She lay in bed, unable to sleep, waking every hour or so with a gasp on her lips or a tremor of her body. Each time she closed her eyes, he leaned in to kiss her again, pulling her closer into him, disappearing through the back of her eyes as the kiss went deeper and deeper. She'd feel her head roll back, and as his lips grazed down her chin with little nibbles, scoring her neck, she would moan and .... wake.. eyes turned to the little beacon of red numbers that mocked her.
Her hand pulled open the bedside drawer to fish out a bottle of sleep aids, and as it tossed the contents she grasped the small bottle of Liquid Lady that had lain in there, forgotten for some time. She pulled it up and placed it on the nightstand, her hand plunging back in to find the herbal remedy. A buzzing sound jolted her even more awake, and the vibrations of The Sultan tickled her fingers. She laughed a moment, and realized she had found a better sleep aid than melatonin and valerian pills.
He had kissed her right, so right, she could still feel where their lips had connected and pressed into teeth and gums and tongues. She could feel it the dozen times she woke that night, dreaming of his hands as they caressed the top of her bottom, his knee pushing her legs apart and riding up into her crotch. Her hand drifted to the bottle of lube and squeezed a dollop onto her fingers, a light aroma of sandalwood made its way to her nostrils. She slid her panties down, and kicked them off her feet, fingers seeking the warm and throbbing mound of Venus underneath. Strokes and circles, fingertips pulsing and circling, she fantasized of the following night. Would he come for her? Would she come with him? The Sultan whirred beneath her hand, and she waved it like a magic wand, lightly touching and accentuating her already aroused senses. She did not take long to climax this time, her dreams had brought her to the precipice, she only needed a slight push to fall over the edge.
Back into darkness she tumbled, this time with the waves of joy lifting her arching back, diving with her into the midnight sea of pleasure. The Great Wave off her shore... crashing his boat into her beach, a tsunami of desires. The Sultan fell away from her hands, and her muscles slowly twitched and wiggled to a deep steady sleep, her lips curled up at the edges, her heart in dreams and so very far away already. Yes, he must come for her.
(Image courtesy of Google Images: The Great Wave of Kanagawa)