She lays upon red satin sheets, her body partly covered by them. A slender calf peeks out here, a bare shoulder there. Her arms are wrapped around a pillow, clutching it to her chest. She sleeps, but even as she does there is the hint of a smile upon her lips as a dream takes the dreamer away.
In her dream, she sleeps upon the same sheets, in the same way. Her blonde ponytail laying upon the sheets beside her as if pointing the way to her soft pink lips that smile ever so softly. There is a thin, red, metal collar that shimmers under the moonlight, draping about her slender neck. She sleeps, knowing that her Mistress is looking over her, watching. Across the room, Mistress sits upon her throne, her green eyes somehow brighter than the moonlight passing over the body of the sleeping beauty.
Mistress’ cheek rests against her hand as she sits there in thought, pondering the one that means everything to her. She doesn’t wish to awaken her, to disturb this rest. But she longs to be there, to hold her. She smiles at the thought of nuzzling her lips against the nape of her love’s neck, of wrapping her arms about the blonde, spooning against her, the dominant brunette’s warmth giving comfort to her love as she sleeps. She bites here lower lip at the thought of her love’s legs bound by a red tail, then her own leg over that, skin to skin, body to body, soul to soul.
Then, the thought comes to her that this is a dream.
Mistress stands, playing with the red sash that encircles her waist, holding the black robe about her. As she tilts her head to the right, her long red fingernails undo the knot, the sash loosens, and then her robe pools at her heels. For a moment, just a moment, she considers leaving them on, but then slips out of them, still not making a sound, not wishing to wake her love as she rests. Her long, red, heart-tipped tail sways slowly behind her as she moves closer. The moonlight now caresses her tanned skin as its only clothing, leaving patterns that seem to tease her form, cast her lips in and out of shadow, putting her so-green eyes into contrast with the night that watches them both.
She reaches the side of her love’s bed, pausing there once again. She considers for a time, one fingertip tracing over the sheets lightly, still trying not to awaken her love, at least not as yet. She could just simply be there with her, entwined as if she had been there from the moment love had fallen asleep: she could bend this dream.
Love feels the bed shift beneath her and it awakens her. Her nose is tickled by the scent of cherries, and her smile, once soft, becomes a little larger, a little needful, a little expectant. She stifles a giggle. She does not wish to embarrass Mistress in her playfulness, after all. The blonde keeps her eyes closed, following the shifting of the bed, her Mistress now so very close to her. She feels a fingertip lightly touch her exposed calf, followed by fingers, and then she holds her breath as the hand to which they belong begins to move. She knows her body is breaking out in goosebumps, her core heating, becoming slick as Mistress’ caresses her hand along the inside of love’s thigh, seeking that which the sheets have hidden.
The whimper of need almost escapes her as Mistress takes her hand away and nothing happens for a moment. That moment is long, stretching out into time. She aches for Mistress to continue, to play her Song.
The ache is answered by Mistress lying beside her, not quite touching her—the sheets are still there as a barrier between them. The next sensation is Mistress spooning against love from behind, their bodies pressing warmly against each other through the sheets. A soft kiss, light on love’s shoulder, the draping of one arm over love’s waist, legs entwined; she feels Mistress’ heat warming her. She cannot help herself, cannot restrain the sigh of bliss that escapes her now.
When Mistress purrs, her breath warm against love’s ear, she responds with full-throated moans. This is what she dreams of: being held, loved, cherished. She thinks of how wonderful this dream is, to have Mistress with her. The next kiss is upon her collar, the one that Mistress offered and she took without question or hesitation. She shivers at the sensation of it rubbing against her skin, telling all that see her that she is for Mistress alone and for always.
It is a wonderful … dream?
She opens her eyes to find it is morning, the sunlight coming through the windows where moonlight had been. She sighs, still clutching the pillow, imagining that she is holding Mistress instead. Drawing a breath, she senses something. It is familiar though she has never sensed it before: the sweet smell of cherries in the air; a presence there with her.
Love moves a hand from the pillow to touch about her neck and a thin metal collar is resting there. She smiles; this is still the dream, of course. She doesn’t have a collar, she isn’t owned. But for the one that loves her, she would be.
It is a wonderful … wish.
A voice she has never heard before, but knows intimately, asks: “Did you sleep well, Love?”
Holding the pillow to herself, the sheets about her, she turns over, a mix of fear and anticipation within herself at what she will find. Is it still a dream? Will she find an ebon-haired Goddess with green eyes, red horns, and a tail awaiting her?
The first thing she finds is the ebon hair, but no horns; the warm smile, but no tail; but definitely the so-green eyes. She swallows, trying to find the words to answer.
Mistress touches her lips, nodding: “Needs Love.”
Love kisses those fingers: “Thank you.”
Mistress draws closer, now laying against her love, looking into her eyes. No more words are needed, nothing else has to be said. The pillow is moved aside as fingers entwine, bodies touch, and the love for each other … just is.
The need to be loved transcends dreams and words. The giving of love is also a need to be fulfilled.
The love which feeds such needs can overcome anything …