Woman of His Dreams - Part V
Welcome to Part 5 of "Woman of his Dreams"! If you're new to my dark little erotic tale, you can find the start here!
Enjoy, and remember, dreams often have a life of their own...
~AC
Cynthia stretched against Tony, cradling the sharp point of his hip against her mons, his chest hot and sweat-moist under her hands. The wine and the story Brigitte had read aloud stretched her brain into a warm caramel of lust and dark mystery. She’d fuck Tony all night, pin him under her and ride him like a Harley, and she didn’t care if her screams – or his – woke Brigitte asleep on the couch. Cynthia slid over Tony, straddling him, his cock hard between her wet pussy lips. She chuckled, the sound thick with wicked desire. The idea of Brigitte squirming and fingering herself to their fuck music only made Cynthia that much hornier.
Cynthia and Tony had things to work out, and she had no compunction about hard, punishing sex being the measure of their reconciliation.
She leaned forward and kissed Tony, invading his mouth, her tongue grinding against his. The jump in Tony’s cock snapped electric heat from Cynthia’s pussy to her rock-hard nipples. He tried to push her over, and Cynthia resisted, using her leverage and her teeth clamped into Tony’s bottom lip to stop his resistance. He growled, but when his muscles tensed then relaxed, the thrill of triumph melted deliciously in Cynthia’s belly.
She tugged at his bottom lip, then released it in favor or sitting up on him, reaching between them to guide his rigid cock home.
Lush delight filled her as his cock slid inch by inch into her cunt, the bond between them silky and burning, her heart pounding in time with the thick, veined rod. She arched, savoring the electric shock of the invasion and Tony’s hands cupped her breasts, claimed the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and mercilessly exploited the sensitive tips. Rivers of sensation flowed through her, blasting pleasure from her pussy, from her tits, molten in her nerves, colliding and exploding as she rocked on him, panting and bucking as she relinquished control for abandoned bliss.
The lightest flutter of skin on skin drew a line across her back. She looked over her shoulder, drunk with rising passion, and saw Brigitte, naked, her eyes wide, lips parted, her taut little breasts tipped by arousal, her smile sly and deliberate.
“You woke me,” she purred.
Cynthia settled down on Tony, his cock a pillar of sweet fire inside her core. She saw his gaze, from her to Brigitte and back, his eyes suddenly glowing with a lust Cynthia felt as well.
“He’s hungry,” Cynthia breathed as her best friend moved fluidly to straddle Tony’s head, facing Cynthia. Brigitte laughed, the sound that of a wicked sprite, as her pussy above hovered just above his nose.
Cynthia gasped, a fresh bolt of erotic delight flooding her senses. She squirmed on Tony’s cock, turned on beyond imagining as Tony locked his arms around Brigitte’s legs and began a ravenous lapping of her friend’s cunt. Brigitte’s face shifted from mischief to delight as Tony’s tongue lavished attention and delved deep. Cynthia smelled Brigitte’s musk, saw Tony’s chin wet with the drip of her pleasure. She knew that tongue, knew the talent of Tony’s lips and licks, empathically felt the pleasure she saw on Brigitte’s face. Cynthia’s pussy clenched and begged, and she wanted to come with her friend. Wanted all of them to scream delight at the same moment. She rose, her thighs responding to her desire, lifting along Tony’s cock.
She felt sudden, sharp, raking furrows across her arms, peppered lines of pain that shocked and aroused, then rough hands pulled her arms behind her back. Weight and pressure forced her down over Tony’s torso, holding her precariously level with Brigitte’s breasts.
Cynthia looked over her shoulder and felt a stab of alarm at the the dark, muscular shadow that held her wrists with one large, clawed hand. She felt the head of his cock at the threshold of her ass.
“No,” she mouthed, but the sound died unborn. She saw his eyes white against the shadow of his face, and he grinned, a blast of light to punctuate the darkness, a twisted smirk of seduction and dismissal.
Odd, she thought, that I can see his eyes and his mouth and yet I cannot see his face.
The cockhead pressed against her, and to Cynthia’s shock, her anus bloomed, opening, the inner wall bowing away from the thick cock that slid in with perfect ease.
She gasped, an endless pull of air into her lungs even as her ass was filled and simultaneously Tony’s cock pushed deeper into her pussy.
Cynthia squirmed, amazed by the sensation of two cocks inside her, her best friend’s breasts in her face, her senses stretching out of her skin and into theirs.
The rhythm carried her, prompted her to become a part of the singular pulse, an eternal wave of sensation that filled her, covered her, the essence of breath and heartbeat, the spice of intoxicating bliss and the wanton coat of rich transgression. Her lips found Brigitte’s nipples and she suckled and laved her tongue against the pebbled tip. She moved counter to the cocks that thrust deep into her, accepted the amazing sensation of the two penises rubbing against each other through the thin flesh. The shadow of inquisition tried to invade her mind, but as she thought to question, a new blast of pleasure smacked all questions away.
She took Brigitte’s nipple between her teeth, shaking her head like a puppy with a toy and delighted at her friend’s throaty squeal of delight.
She released her grip and looked back at the shadow behind her, his wide chest and narrow waist, his cock buried in her ass, the incarnation of carnal strength she relished and accepted, dark and dirty, hot and hungry, she shoved back against the darkness and welcomed the ripe pain of his penetration.
A pulse grew between them all, Tony’s cock and tongue, Brigitte’s pussy and tits, her pussy and ass, the shadow’s thick, precise cock. They moved as one, they breathed and panted, growled and grunted faster, hotter, flesh and mouth burning, sliding, biting, writhing until Cynthia’s nerves cried aloud, joined to her lovers, joined to the sheets, the walls, the floor. One massive, growing throb that finally, divinely shattered her very soul.
Light, color, blinding glorious pleasure as Tony’s cock and the shadow’s cock pushed beyond her last boundary and she came, hard, howling, her keening groan vibrating against Brigitte’s nipple as her friend screamed her own pleasure. Forbidden, ancient, the waves of ecstasy obliterating the mundane walls of the room and opening Cynthia to something she could not see for the burning flame of her orgasm.
She released Brigitte’s breast from her mouth, desperate for breath, and looked into the passionate twisted face of her friend, energizing her own prolonged climax with the beautiful vision of Brigitte’s ecstasy.
And as Tony thrust one last time, and the shadow’s grunt of pleasure echoed behind her, his cock slamming hard and deep, his seed slicking the path even more, she watched, horrified and overwhelmed, as Brigitte’s bliss-twisted face began to run, like syrup, like wax, one eye glistening on her cheek, the mouth turned down in a silent cry, teeth white and skeleton bare behind the flowing flesh. Cynthia saw her friend’s breasts slide soft down the molten line of her torso, pale wax, running in ripples to pool on the pillows and sheets, to the floor, gray and glistening.
Cynthia felt the afterglow of orgasm burning warm, felt fear and terror as though they belonged to someone else.
This is only a dream, she thought, and I have forgotten how to scream.
Enjoy, and remember, dreams often have a life of their own...
~AC
"Woman of His Dreams"
Part 5
by Angela Caperton
Copyright 2010
Part 5
by Angela Caperton
Copyright 2010
Cynthia stretched against Tony, cradling the sharp point of his hip against her mons, his chest hot and sweat-moist under her hands. The wine and the story Brigitte had read aloud stretched her brain into a warm caramel of lust and dark mystery. She’d fuck Tony all night, pin him under her and ride him like a Harley, and she didn’t care if her screams – or his – woke Brigitte asleep on the couch. Cynthia slid over Tony, straddling him, his cock hard between her wet pussy lips. She chuckled, the sound thick with wicked desire. The idea of Brigitte squirming and fingering herself to their fuck music only made Cynthia that much hornier.Cynthia and Tony had things to work out, and she had no compunction about hard, punishing sex being the measure of their reconciliation.
She leaned forward and kissed Tony, invading his mouth, her tongue grinding against his. The jump in Tony’s cock snapped electric heat from Cynthia’s pussy to her rock-hard nipples. He tried to push her over, and Cynthia resisted, using her leverage and her teeth clamped into Tony’s bottom lip to stop his resistance. He growled, but when his muscles tensed then relaxed, the thrill of triumph melted deliciously in Cynthia’s belly.
She tugged at his bottom lip, then released it in favor or sitting up on him, reaching between them to guide his rigid cock home.
Lush delight filled her as his cock slid inch by inch into her cunt, the bond between them silky and burning, her heart pounding in time with the thick, veined rod. She arched, savoring the electric shock of the invasion and Tony’s hands cupped her breasts, claimed the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and mercilessly exploited the sensitive tips. Rivers of sensation flowed through her, blasting pleasure from her pussy, from her tits, molten in her nerves, colliding and exploding as she rocked on him, panting and bucking as she relinquished control for abandoned bliss.
The lightest flutter of skin on skin drew a line across her back. She looked over her shoulder, drunk with rising passion, and saw Brigitte, naked, her eyes wide, lips parted, her taut little breasts tipped by arousal, her smile sly and deliberate.
“You woke me,” she purred.
Cynthia settled down on Tony, his cock a pillar of sweet fire inside her core. She saw his gaze, from her to Brigitte and back, his eyes suddenly glowing with a lust Cynthia felt as well.
“He’s hungry,” Cynthia breathed as her best friend moved fluidly to straddle Tony’s head, facing Cynthia. Brigitte laughed, the sound that of a wicked sprite, as her pussy above hovered just above his nose.
Cynthia gasped, a fresh bolt of erotic delight flooding her senses. She squirmed on Tony’s cock, turned on beyond imagining as Tony locked his arms around Brigitte’s legs and began a ravenous lapping of her friend’s cunt. Brigitte’s face shifted from mischief to delight as Tony’s tongue lavished attention and delved deep. Cynthia smelled Brigitte’s musk, saw Tony’s chin wet with the drip of her pleasure. She knew that tongue, knew the talent of Tony’s lips and licks, empathically felt the pleasure she saw on Brigitte’s face. Cynthia’s pussy clenched and begged, and she wanted to come with her friend. Wanted all of them to scream delight at the same moment. She rose, her thighs responding to her desire, lifting along Tony’s cock.
She felt sudden, sharp, raking furrows across her arms, peppered lines of pain that shocked and aroused, then rough hands pulled her arms behind her back. Weight and pressure forced her down over Tony’s torso, holding her precariously level with Brigitte’s breasts.
Cynthia looked over her shoulder and felt a stab of alarm at the the dark, muscular shadow that held her wrists with one large, clawed hand. She felt the head of his cock at the threshold of her ass.
“No,” she mouthed, but the sound died unborn. She saw his eyes white against the shadow of his face, and he grinned, a blast of light to punctuate the darkness, a twisted smirk of seduction and dismissal.
Odd, she thought, that I can see his eyes and his mouth and yet I cannot see his face.
The cockhead pressed against her, and to Cynthia’s shock, her anus bloomed, opening, the inner wall bowing away from the thick cock that slid in with perfect ease.
She gasped, an endless pull of air into her lungs even as her ass was filled and simultaneously Tony’s cock pushed deeper into her pussy.
Cynthia squirmed, amazed by the sensation of two cocks inside her, her best friend’s breasts in her face, her senses stretching out of her skin and into theirs.
The rhythm carried her, prompted her to become a part of the singular pulse, an eternal wave of sensation that filled her, covered her, the essence of breath and heartbeat, the spice of intoxicating bliss and the wanton coat of rich transgression. Her lips found Brigitte’s nipples and she suckled and laved her tongue against the pebbled tip. She moved counter to the cocks that thrust deep into her, accepted the amazing sensation of the two penises rubbing against each other through the thin flesh. The shadow of inquisition tried to invade her mind, but as she thought to question, a new blast of pleasure smacked all questions away.
She took Brigitte’s nipple between her teeth, shaking her head like a puppy with a toy and delighted at her friend’s throaty squeal of delight.
She released her grip and looked back at the shadow behind her, his wide chest and narrow waist, his cock buried in her ass, the incarnation of carnal strength she relished and accepted, dark and dirty, hot and hungry, she shoved back against the darkness and welcomed the ripe pain of his penetration.
A pulse grew between them all, Tony’s cock and tongue, Brigitte’s pussy and tits, her pussy and ass, the shadow’s thick, precise cock. They moved as one, they breathed and panted, growled and grunted faster, hotter, flesh and mouth burning, sliding, biting, writhing until Cynthia’s nerves cried aloud, joined to her lovers, joined to the sheets, the walls, the floor. One massive, growing throb that finally, divinely shattered her very soul.
Light, color, blinding glorious pleasure as Tony’s cock and the shadow’s cock pushed beyond her last boundary and she came, hard, howling, her keening groan vibrating against Brigitte’s nipple as her friend screamed her own pleasure. Forbidden, ancient, the waves of ecstasy obliterating the mundane walls of the room and opening Cynthia to something she could not see for the burning flame of her orgasm.
She released Brigitte’s breast from her mouth, desperate for breath, and looked into the passionate twisted face of her friend, energizing her own prolonged climax with the beautiful vision of Brigitte’s ecstasy.
And as Tony thrust one last time, and the shadow’s grunt of pleasure echoed behind her, his cock slamming hard and deep, his seed slicking the path even more, she watched, horrified and overwhelmed, as Brigitte’s bliss-twisted face began to run, like syrup, like wax, one eye glistening on her cheek, the mouth turned down in a silent cry, teeth white and skeleton bare behind the flowing flesh. Cynthia saw her friend’s breasts slide soft down the molten line of her torso, pale wax, running in ripples to pool on the pillows and sheets, to the floor, gray and glistening.
Cynthia felt the afterglow of orgasm burning warm, felt fear and terror as though they belonged to someone else.
This is only a dream, she thought, and I have forgotten how to scream.
Continue to Part 6
Copyright 2010 Angela Caperton. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Copyright 2010 Angela Caperton. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Posted by Angela Caperton at 6/20/2010 8:53 PM 
Categories: dark erotica, Lovecraft, Angela Caperton, Woman of His Dreams
Tags: dark erotica Lovecraft Angela Caperton Woman of His Dreams
Categories: dark erotica, Lovecraft, Angela Caperton, Woman of His Dreams
Tags: dark erotica Lovecraft Angela Caperton Woman of His Dreams
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