...I dreamed of her last night again. As vivid as always, I was left with the idea of her and no image. She stood before me, her face in shadows, obscured from my view. Her hands reached out to me, beckoning me forward. Seeming to float, I moved toward her, long slender fingers gently grabbing my wrists, pulling me forward. Happily I submitted to her embrace, feeling her naked breasts press against mine, her skin silkily brushing against mine, intoxicating me with the sensations. Still, I couldn't see her face, the one part of her I really wanted to see. Frustrated, I tried to cup her face with my hands and force it into the light. Laughing lightly, she resisted, pulling away completely, turning from me. Watching the muscles in her naked back flow as she walked away, I felt entranced. Sexual desire and lust coursed through me, my blood warming and traveling as my need grew. My head felt light as I again went to her, this time to a bed that appeared in the room. With a sure touch she pushed me down onto the bed, not that I fought her any way. I was dying to see her, dying to see the face on this woman who had tormented my dreams too often, but I was also hungry for her touch. With confidence born of shared love, she began to stroke my body, her caresses fanning the flame within me. I know I must have been moaning, but I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. For the thousandth time I let myself sink into her love making, not...
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