Back to the garden
My sleep attire was ready and I knew I would fall into a deep
sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I looked out my window,
hoping it would not rain, and then pulled the covers up and
sighed. My day was over, and I deserved to just lay here.
The clock was telling me it was getting later, but I couldn't
focus on sleep. I looked around and saw it was so foggy. I
heard a voice in my garden outside calling my name. I was
only wearing my tank & panties and it was apparent how
cold I was. My nipples were very visible as I stepped into
the garden but I folded my arms and walked on in. I have a statue
that seems so meaningless, but that is where the voice was
coming from. I looked up and say a man shackled to the statue,
singing, "liiiiiiily, my sweeeeet Liiiilllly."
He looks at me with glowing green eyes, almost like cat eyes.
Then he shakes his arms, crying "help me down, release
me please!"
I smile. He looks so helpless, yet so strong, like a soldier.
His arms so muscular, like he is just maybe holding his arms
there, and to my surprise, I am correct. He reaches out to
grab me, catching me by the wrist. He pushes me into the armrests
where the shackles are, and then turns to me. "I knew
you would come to me tonight, Lily" He then proceeds
to kiss me, as soon as he has me cuffed in. His breath smells
like mint, and his hair is black, shoulder length. He keeps
saying my name, as if he, too, could be in a dream.
His foot hits a button that suddenly has me lying flat on
my back, still cuffed in place. I now notice his perfect
naked body. All he needs is a camera pose to do the trick and
I would feel like I am in a commercial for a thriller movie!
I feel scared, yet intrigued by his heightened aggression
toward me. I know he will not harm me, but knowing he has total
control, I feel like I am in the first scene from Gerald's
Game, unknowing of the future at hand.
He moves closer, erect, and ready to prey upon me, as if I
am what he has waited for all night. His body moves into mine
and I willingly accept him, feeling relaxed at last. His
free hands hold my shackled hands, tracing my fingers,
my lips, my chin, then touching my heaving breasts. His
lips move near my navel, then up my body. by doing this, we
discover I am mobile in this position. The cuffholder is
more like a swinging prison cell, full of erotic gadgets.
Our bodies make their ways closer and closer, not feeling
the cold air any longer, but the hot sweat that runs bewtween
us, keeping us warm, keeping us energized. We come simultaneously,
feeling overjoyed at the occasional breeze. I smile to
myself, thinking this has been a great night. The man looks
at me agan with his cat eyes still glowing. He kisses me,
and then steps away, leaving me there in the cold night,
wondering how I will ever get away. . .
|
