by Paul Bridgeman Jr. ©
Pagan lay on the bed, her body drenched in sweat. She was so soaked that her skin glistened as if it were oiled for massage, even her bush glistened in the pulsing red light. It felt as if her juices were simply pouring from her moist opening, unable to control the relentless orgasm she gasped. Her body was paralysed, she could only look around the room by moving her eyes. She was at once terrified and aroused beyond bearing. The pulsing of the muted red light seemed to alternatively set her skin alight and chill it as the light faded.
Footsteps began in the hallway, slow and deliberate. "Him" she thought, though who this might be she could not say. Each step sent a tremor of anticipation through her, her hips jerked with an involuntary orgasm. Why couldn't she move, her excitement seemed to escalate along with her fear as the footsteps approached. Was it her lover? Was it just someone she had met in a bar. Frantically she cursed herself for the lifestyle she had been leading recently, she wanted sex at every opportunity and as her eyes traveled across he glistening breasts, across her flat, toned stomach to her glossy bush, she knew that she would get it without a problem.
She looked up to see a shadow fall on the wall of the hallway outside the room. She felt her body rise on a wave of ecstasy, every pore seemed to cry out for the owner of the shape on the wall. She was so wet now that her thighs felt silky against each other, deliciously slick and she wanted to be delivered from the insanity of this overbearing lust. A moan escaped her lips, echoing sensually for a moment in the still hot air.
A dark figure appeared in the doorway. Another orgasm racked Pagan's weakening body, but now she was frightened too. The figure, tall and broad, features not visible began to approach the bed. He moved to stand at the side of the bed and the light would not allow Pagan to see his face, but somehow she knew that he was smiling and it frightened and aroused her more than she had ever felt before.
A large hand with long, strong looking nails reached out and roughly squeezed one breast, the other hand slid down and a finger slid into and out of her snatch. He brought the finger to his mouth and tasted it, oblivious to Pagans screams as she orgasmed violently on the bed. Even the sound of him sucking his fingers drove her insane. "Please" she said, her voice an exhausted whisper. "Please, stop it, it's too much". No reply came
The man walked round to the edge of the bed and began to crawl upwards, first sucking her toes and then kissing, licking and biting the skin on her legs. She was panting now her vision filling with black swarming patches, her body overloading. She felt his nose nudging her pubic hair, he opened his mouth and his tongue came out. Long and pointed it was, he gently lapped at her juices, careful to lick them only from the hair and not touch the flesh. Pagan's muscles in her thighs began to cramp as an orgasm built in her. She looked at him and saw his tongue slip into her entrance. She came like a great dark wave at the first touch of him in her flesh. Everything went dark.
She woke up in her bedroom. The light in the room hurt her eyes, despite the closed curtains. She slipped a finger into herself and found that she was wet, unable to resist she masturbated herself a little and then sucked her fingers clean. A movement in the bed startled her and she turned to see a shape moving under the black satin sheets. Could it be him? Her strange night visitor. Was it more than a dream she had been having this last month? She reached across and lifted the sheets. A gasp of shock escaped her, what was she thinking of! She hoped that no-one had seen them together...
Who is under the sheet? Is it's Pagan's nocturnal Love God? Is he real...... Find out Next time in Pagan Pleasure