Lorelei

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For as long as I can remember, Lorelei held my heart in her hand. She is the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky. Her flaming hair flows down her back, falling in rich curls. Her eyes are the color of wheat fields, just before Autumn’s touch. Hazel, you could call it, green on gold. She is striking, long legged and agile. She has the look of an exotic animal; her cheek bones arch gracefully beneath long, sooty eyelashes. Her smile dazzles me. It is her secret smile, granted only to me. I open my mouth to speak, but she laughs, deep and resonant. She spreads her legs and I kneel to receive her gift. Light fills my being, and I awaken.

Panting, I wake tangled in bed sheets. Her scent is in my nostrils and I throb mercilessly with desire. I want her, the woman in my dreams. I want her legs wrapped around my head. I want to taste her skin. My hand travels to the cleft in between my thighs. The lips are swollen and juices flow hot. It is almost painful when I start to rub. Small, light circles graduating to harder, faster movements. Then, much too soon, the orgasm rips through me. I remain unsatisfied and melancholy.

‘Why must she haunt my dreams so?’ I wonder inwardly. She has been in my dreams since I was no more than a child. She is perfection in my mind. So much so, other women pale in comparison. Her appearance never changes, but she has many different personalities. Sometimes she dominates me and I whimper at her feet. Those nights she takes me from behind, and I wake feeling sore and exhausted. Other nights, I tie her, gag her and penetrate her anus with tongues and beautifully carved toys.

I kick the covers off and sigh deeply. Sweat glistens in the morning light. Finally the dull ache subsides and I rise from bed. None of the people I know understand. They think I’m just picky. They think I fear commitment. They tell me, ‘Having someone real is better than having someone perfect.’ So I flirt, and I date to no avail. And when I wake, with her scent in my brain and her salt on my lips, to find another woman lying next to me, the world feels off kilter. I would rather be alone.

I brood on these matters as I arrive at my destination. Today is my last day at the ‘South East Convention for Property Managers.’ The banquet hall is less than half full and I sit alone at a table in the back. A small, grizzled woman comes to the podium and begins a litany of proper tax codes to use in various zones in the region. A quarter hour passes and my eyelids start to droop. My sleep deprived mind wanders as I drift to sleep, my head propped on my hand.

It is dark. First I think it is night, but as I regain my senses I realize I am blindfolded. I can feel heat from a brazier, making the room overly warm. I inhale, noting the sharp smell of citrus and clove. I try to rise, but I am tied down. I shift restlessly, thin ropes rubbing my wrists. The more I move, the tighter they become.

Cool fingers graze my bare shoulder and I am suddenly aware of my own nakedness. I turn my head in hopes to feel her beside me. My lips barely touch her fingertip.

“Please, let me see you. This isn’t fair,” I plead.

“You will see me soon. Be patient.” Her voice rings out through all of heaven. Her voice is sweet and melodious. It sounds at once like gravel on velvet and bells in the wind. The Earth itself stands still when she speaks.

I thrash violently in my restraints. Her laugh rings out, unfettered and free. She watches as I bind myself tighter and tighter. My hands go numb and I slump over, waiting.

I feel her touch on my thigh. Her hand trembles slightly as she pulls my legs apart. I feel her fingers as she explores my nether recesses. Blood rushes to engorge the lips. I grow slick with desire. She manipulates me till I ride her hand, causing the cords to tighten so much, I feel as if I will faint. Before I climax, she withdraws her hand. I hear her take a shuddering breath.

“That’s a good girl,” she whispers softly. I feel the blindfold slip from my face. I blink at the sudden rush of light. She stands before me, apple green silk barely covering her body. Her perky breasts take my breath away. Her nipples harden as she gazes down at me.

She straddles me. Inches away from mine, her lips part. Our eyes meet and I become lost in them. For how long, I cannot say.

“Kiss me,” she says simply.

I kissed her then, deep and savage. I put every unnamed emotion I have into that kiss. Our tongues dance and our bodies join. I fall into her and out of her. Is she I? Am I her? I could be here forever, if she would have me.

She pulls away slightly and gives me her secret smile. When she does, I begin to pant. If there was desire before, it does not compare to the heat between us now.

“Are you ready, love?” She asks quietly. I cannot reply. I have lost all rational thought. Only her flesh is my touchstone. I moan and she giggles, then catches herself. I push my body as close as I can to hers. Her eyes close slightly and her body tenses. She bites her lower lip.

Then I feel it, hot and wet. She sighs deeply and pisses in my lap. The silk of her dress darkens and the liquid pools between us. I want to taste it. She doesn’t stop and it begins to overflow and puddle on the floor. She kisses me and I orgasm, hard and complete.

My head slips from my hand and I jerk awake. Groggily, I realize that I have slept through the seminar. Red lines score my wrists. I pull my jacket down to cover them. As I move, I realize I have wet my pants. My piss has soaked into the chair and I grind into it. I stifle the cry as I come. Sending a silent apology to the cleaning crew, I gather my paperwork and retreat hastily.

As I leave the hall, I bump into a young maid with downcast eyes. She glances at my crotch, dark with my pee. She glances up quickly. I blush and turn down a corridor. I find the elevator and make it to my hotel room. I do not change and climb into bed and try to sleep, to see her again. Sleep eludes me that night and I lie awake filled with a deep chasm of longing.

To be continued.

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