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Shoreline

A gift, a hope, a bit of dream for the one that is my Song…

 

Shoreline
By TeraS

 

For the one called Love and she knows that to be always…

There is a place called the In-Between, a realm that lies between that which we know to be the real and what we wish it might be. It is a kind of shoreline, a place where the foam of the surf churns and splashes, making little bubbles of shared reality that some who dream can slip into.

The journey into one bubble begins with a simple red ribbon … or perhaps not such a simple one at that. This ribbon is a particular shade of red … a reflection of the red of a particular sinuous tail, a particular pair of small horns, a certain sort of lipstick that adorns a particular gentle smile. This ribbon is wrapped around a tall mirror set in a gilded frame, but it does not reflect the one that looks quizzically into it. There are shimmers of green in the mirror, like those of a pair of so-green eyes that hold love and affection always, waiting patiently.

She stands there, wondering about the mirror, about the ribbon. Her long blonde ponytail lies upon her bare skin, tickling, as if to divert her attention from the mirror and the ribbon, but, in spite of this, she steps a little closer, to see better. She nibbles her lovely, pink-shaded lips, thinking about the ribbon, how it tells of the one she calls “Goddess:” of her devotion, love, and need, simmering within her in the moments between being with her.

She is called “Love.” Not the love that many know, that some can say they have an idea of. She is the Love of the Goddess. The thought makes her tremble slightly, a shiver passing through her as goosebumps begin to dance over her skin.

Love traces her fingertips over her skin, dipping a fingertip around her navel, before caressing herself lightly, straying, building her heat and desire to be with her Goddess from the simmering that is with her always. Closing her sparkling blue eyes, she imagines being with her Goddess, enraptured by her, spooned against her in devotion. She nibbles her lip, stifling a little moan, noticing a certain heat passing through her core. She imagines being held, knowing the everlasting affection that Goddess has for her, wishing that, for a moment more, she could be held in the arms that desire while Goddess is unconditionally, completely caring only about Love.

A thought comes to her, a naughty little smile causing her lips to tremble a little. Hesitantly, she reaches out a hand to the ribbon and tugs at the end, unravelling it, separating the ribbon from the mirror. She opens her eyes, expecting that Goddess would be standing there, the ribbon pulled, the gift unwrapped.

But no. The mirror has changed, now reflecting her within it. She sees herself now, sees herself as Goddess sees her: fetching, lightly;bronzed skin, still warm from where the sun had kissed upon her, while she had been serving Goddess. The ribbon is held in her right hand as she rubs it, the feeling of silk against her skin. She sighs as the ends tickle over her curves, drape against her areolae, now becoming little hardened points that press into slim, silken fabric. One end encircles her, winding around her leg, caressing her inner thigh, a little shiver of pleasure and surprise as the edge comes close, but does not touch, her clit. A gasp as the other end of the ribbon comes over shapely rear, rubbing against her skin, almost like the light touch of a hand.

A shiver makes her blonde ponytail sway behind her; a smile comes as she remembers that Goddess mused that it was an echo of herself, she knowing exactly what her Goddess meant by those words. She takes in her entire form, dedicated to her Goddess, and smiles once more.

She takes the ribbon and gathers it up before taking it over to her bed and laying it there. The ribbon now drapes over the bed, a splash of red against the golden sheets that shimmer slightly paler in comparison the red of her Goddess.

Love closes her eyes once more and, as she is allowed, makes a silent appeal for this moment, in this place at this time. A wish for a moment, a touch, the expression of her Goddess’ will. She focuses all of herself upon that desire and need, asking for a boon to be given for this moment. She opens her eyes, unsure if her wish will be given. Her eyes open wider, a gasp escapes her, a joyful smile dances over her lips.

Goddess is there, reclining upon the bed, her raven hair wild and tempting, her so-green eyes sparkling joyfully in seeing her Love there with her, her tender red lips in a gentle smile. Goddess beckons to Love, tilting her head to the right slightly, revealing that she wears that red ribbon around her shapely throat, as if she were a gift to be unwrapped.

Love pauses, for a moment, unsure. She serves Goddess—that is what she needs, desires, lives for in all things—not the other way ‘round. The moment is broken as Goddess opens her arms and gestures with her fingertips for Love to come to her Goddess. She slips into the bed, over the sheets and kneels there, just in front of Goddess, lacing her fingers together, her head bowed down slightly. She shivers, holding back a whimper of need, to touch, to submit, to give of herself.

Goddess touches Love’s cheek, the bed moving slightly as she moves to do so. The touch becomes a caress, then a cupping of that cheek. There is the scent of cherries now, her heat becoming damp. She parts her lips, to wet them with her tongue, but instead feels the touch of soft luscious lips against her own. A light nibble, a touch of their tongues together, the pressing now wet and slippery, soft moans of delight escaping her. The kiss is forever, and, at the same time, it is but a few precious moments. Not a word is spoken; there is no need for them. Her eyes flutter as Goddess hesitantly moves away, their lips moving apart, a last touch of their tongues before the kiss is paused.

Love wants to press against Goddess, to be wrapped in her arms, to be held, cuddled, desired, and more. She gazes in want and need, her eyes telling of the yearning of her soul in this. Her soul is bared, needfully, gratefully, completely sure in knowing that Goddess desires her, cares for her, and holds her dearly within.

Goddess shakes her head, then glances towards the sheets meaningfully.

Love understands, again, without a word being said. She gracefully—for she belongs to the Goddess and obeys in all things—lays herself upon the sheets, her head turned to the side. For a moment she wonders what Goddess has planned. The thought is paused by the feeling of warm oil being poured upon her skin. It pools there, where her waist narrows. Then there is the lightest of touches, and she nibbles her lips once more, knowing that Goddess’ hands are caressing her there. She feels the warmth of the oil coating her skin, making it more sensitive. The tension that she didn’t realize was within her being slowly drawn from her. She relaxes into the sheets, her legs parting slightly.

Goddess moves closer, blowing lightly from her lips, the oil picking up that cooling, then being rubbed upon once more. Love lets out a little gasp of surprise as Goddess moves up her back, over her shoulders and then along her arms, coating them all in the oil. The gasp comes back as Goddess then kneads her rear, giving a light squeeze before continuing lower, over her thighs, calves and to the tips of her toes.

Love whimpers, knowing that Goddess had not touched her core, her heat. She wants to ask a question, to know why not. But she does not move—she cannot—for Goddess commanded she remain as she is, and so she will.

Goddess straddles over her Love, who feels the bed shift again. She imagines in her mind the image of her legs being trapped beneath Goddess, being looked upon. She feels the touch again on her legs, her shapely bottom. But then, Goddess drapes herself over her Love. There is the touch of two hot points into her back, and she knows that Goddess is enveloping her. She wiggles, knowing that Goddess is there, skin to skin. She feels the raven hair like a feather over her skin as Goddess lifts Love’s ponytail to the side, laying it there carefully. Then, Goddess kisses the nape of her neck, along her shoulders, then down her spine. Each little touch is a pressing of lips, a light sucking, occasionally a little nibble of teeth, all reminding Love that her Goddess desires her, needs her.

Love wants to turn over, to wrap her arms around Goddess, to draw her close, to be pressed against her, heat to heat, lips to lips, curves to curves. She needs, so dearly and utterly, to return the love she feels.

Goddess lowers herself close to Love’s ear, her breath warm there. A little lick of her tongue against Love’s earlobe makes her giggle. Goddess then moves to the side, her hand touching Love’s waist, guiding her to turn over.

Love does so, of course. She needs to look upon her Goddess, so that the love and devotion she feels is expressed in her eyes. The moment she is lying comfortably once more, she Goddess reaches to the side, picking up the oil and pouring it upon Love’s navel. She looks upon Goddess, seeing her tanned skin shining with the oil, reflections from the room dancing upon her. Their eyes meet, Goddess giving a little wink and then putting a finger to her own lips, commanding Love to be silent, even though she knows that Love wishes to cry out in bliss. She watches, for she must, Goddess lovingly spreading the oil over Love’s skin. Goddess makes sure not to miss an inch of skin, to be sure that the oil is spread to cover, to warm, to draw Love further into her own heat.

Goddess smiles, then licks her lips before her soft, warm hands cup Love’s bosom lightly. She moves closer, her lips brought to just about Love’s nipples where she then coats them in the oil before blowing over them.
Love, aroused before, now feels the ache, the delicious ache that moves from her needful core throughout her body. She whimpers, feeling Goddess draping her hair over Love’s skin, her lips now gently sucking first one nipple, then moving to the other, her fingers pinching, then rubbing and soothing, before she moves back again. Love shivers and gasps, her legs parting slightly.

Goddess removes one hand, trailing down Love’s flank, over her waist, and then tickling her inner thigh. Love’s eyes open wide as Goddess teases a fingertip against Love’s folds. She is so wet there now, not just from the oil, and she raises herself, legs a little wider, her folds opening, her clit throbbing in need, want and desire.

Love wants to ask, to beg, to wish and more. She closes her eyes, her thoughts crying out to Goddess, begging for her, pleading for her. Her prayers are answered when she feels Goddess move, then there is the touch of a slick, wet tongue. Love’s folds quiver in pleasure, her clit thrumming now. The touch of Goddess’ tongue there, her fingertips dipping, parting Love’s folds, makes Love cry out wordlessly.

Goddess lightly, lovingly, pushes Love further—the need to orgasm, to cry out in her submission, to give all of herself to Goddess’ touch are all pushing at her mind, body, and soul.

Love’s hips buck, trying to increase the friction, to push herself over the edge, but Goddess pauses, her fingertip tapping against Love’s inner thigh. Even this, a reminder that Love belongs to Goddess, only serves to build Love’s passion for her Goddess. Love’s eyes are watering, the emotions of being enjoyed so completely, totally, utterly by Goddess taking her breath away. The moment passes, Goddess returning to Love’s pleasure, stroking her, kissing, licking, breathing hotly upon her sex so wonderful and so desired.

Goddess takes Love to the edge, holding her there, on the edge, but not quite allowing her over. Love is a hot, wet, mess of slick desire now, her thoughts of touching Goddess, of worshiping her, of pleasing Goddess being the last straw that breaks with Love screaming out in passion, devotion, and ecstasy.

Love comes down from the pleasure after an unknown time—it might have been minutes, hours, or centuries. Her eyes flutter open to see that she is held in the arms of Goddess, spooned against her. She feels the ribbon that Goddess wears against her own skin, and notices a smile playing upon Goddess’ lips.

Goddess also has her eyes closed, and Love sighs a bit, wanting to behold the so-green eyes that she loved and lost herself in. The smile is a little bit larger as she gently pulls at the ribbon, slipping it away from Goddess and gathering it into her hands.

Love regards the ribbon, then carefully ties it around her own shapely neck, the bow on her right side, the mirror of Goddess, who had the bow upon her left. Love moves back against her Goddess, cheek to cheek, curves against curves.

Goddess opens her eyes and sees that Love is wearing the ribbon. Before Goddess can do a thing, Love puts a fingertip over Goddess’ lips and then touches her own before sharing a kiss once more. She places all of her love, submission, and desires in the moment. She has no fear of this, the trust they share making it as it should be. She traces her way along Goddess’ lovely, perfect neck, downwards towards her collarbone, kissing along, shivering at the sigh Goddess gives in the pleasure given.

Love smiles as she sees the goosebumps flashing over the lovely tanned skin that she adores, her sex becoming slick once more. Kissing along Goddess’ breasts, she gently sucks upon her loved one’s nipples, her tongue swirling. She moans as she pulls away, then gives the same attention once more.

Goddess traces a hand between her Love’s thighs causing her to arc her back. Love then rests lightly against her Goddess, licking, moaning, gazing upwards.

Love looks into the eyes of Goddess, the green sparkling, the love held in those eyes complete, perfect, and total. Love’s eyes flutter in the moment, the joy as she suckles, her own need and fantasy being fulfilled by this moment, this need that she feels.

Goddess wraps her arms around Love, holding her, rocking her gently, lovingly. Love does not know when she slips into dreams, being held in Goddess’ arms, warm, loved, and knowing that all that Goddess holds for her, in all things, is for always and ever more.

Love awakens the next morning and looks about her. The mirror stands there, the ribbon once more wrapped around it. She sighs, brushing a tear from her eye. The moment is past. Goddess is away once more. Love moves to sit on the edge of the bed, drawing in the scent of cherries that still lingers about her. She smiles and remembers what Goddess has given her in all things, and is whole in that knowledge.

A touch of a hand against her back startles her, and she turns to see Goddess resting there beside her. She squeals in joy, in seeing Goddess and presses against her. Their fingers entwine, their lips touch, and a smile is shared.

The sharing of a dream, of a love, is a blessing between two souls. The giving of oneself to another is a gift shared. To return the gift, to give of yourself to them, and their dreams, loves and more, is where anything can be.

Sometimes, in the In-Between, the foam is fleeting and ephemeral. But, sometimes … sometimes where the love, the passion, the desire are strongest ….sometimes the bubble never has to break …