I Dreamed of Us Last Night

I am dropped into the middle of Him and I engaged in intimate activities. I am wearing a burgundy satin blouse, completely unbuttoned and gaping open. My black lacy bra is casually draped over a chair in the room. My chocolate auburn hair is unbound and cascading wildly down my body. I am wearing a lacy black thong, garter belt, and lacy black silk thigh highs hooked to that belt; no shoes. My eyes widen in surprise at my attire. Where am I? It's a large room, chill and dank. I see the deep grey color of stone peeking out from elaborate tapestries hanging on the wall. In front of me is the door, a mirror..no...two. There is a small settee and chair side by side. The hunter green rugs on the floor are plush and silky beneath my feet. But it's when I look around I catch my breath. A solid oak four poster canopy bed...done up in black and silver velvet and silks...is in the center of the back wall. Sitting high off the floor, its size is monstrous. There is a bathroom to the left of the bed, but the darkness makes it difficult to see in there. The vanity sat to the right of the bed, giant mirror reflecting a very nice view. The candlelight bathed his face, making it at turns tender and sinister.  He is standing there. Black jeans, short brown hair tousled, cinnamon eyes gleaming with amusement and desire. His eyes suddenly turn hard, but I know it's not a bad thing. He is shirtless, and holding a quirt. I am guessing at this point, that he'd been using it on me. I have my wrists tied above my head with what looks like my suede belt. I look up to see the hook embedded in the ceiling. 'That thing could handle a horse,' I remember thinking. I am not gagged. He wants to hear the gasps and whimpers that escape my throat. I cannot take my eyes off him as he prowls across the room. Stopping just before me, he skims the quirt down the front of my body. My breath hitches. He grabs my chin and locks his lips to mine. Flames erupt through my body. I open my mouth for his tongue. He kisses like I always imagine it. He's in control, his tongue taking my mouth, exploring every nook and cranny like he's claiming every bit of it as his. I begin to stroke his tongue with mine, breathing hard, mapping out the shape of his mouth. My head begins to spin. I can feel all of it. His hand strays up to my hair, and I feel him caress it at first. Then his hand tightens into a fist and he jerks my head back and trails kisses down my neck, licking and nipping. I feel his lips curve into a smile against my skin as I squeak in reaction. A soft moan is building in my throat. My hazel eyes closed in bliss, I hear something hit the floor and his other arm snakes around my waist.  He pulls me closer into his questing lips, and starts feathering kisses across my jawline, slowly inching downward. I feel his hand loosen slightly in my hair, and his mouth has reached my breasts. I wait for him to continue, but he stops...leaving me panting, chest heaving. He pushes my arms up, me needing to stretch to tiptoe, to release me from the hook. His arms slide down mine, and he releases my wrists from their binding. His arms embrace me, he turns me around, whispering in my ear, "I've waited so long for this, baby." I feel the silky material drop before my eyes,and with a few deft twists, he secures it. I giggle faintly, and reach up to feel the fabric shielding my eyes. I feel the sting of the quirt on my nearly bare ass. Startled, I let out a little yip and reach down to cup my stinging cheek. Mind working furiously, I realize his little game. I smile and let my hands drop. Obviously he wants it in place. I am pushed to my knees, and my chin is lifted by the very quirt I thought he'd dropped. I hear it hit the floor yet again. When did he pick it up? My thoughts are scattered when I feel him kneel behind me and cup my breasts in his hands. I hear him murmur, but don't catch the words. His hands knead and squeeze the globes, working in ever decreasing circles. He's curled himself close,our flesh enmeshed behind and before. When I feel him suddenly pinch my nipple hard, I jerk and whimper. I like it. I like it a lot. His second hand mimics the motion of the first, and soon I am arching my back, trying to shove more of my breasts into his hands. He kisses and laves my neck, occasionally setting his teeth in here and there. At this point in my dream, I think I started waking up, because the dream sped up. Next thing I know, I am on my knees, I have no blindfold, and he is standing before me with his cock in his hand. I look up at him and hope to hell that my eyes challenge, "I dare you." I guess he sees the gauntlet thrown, because I have just enough time to open my mouth before he is ramming his dick into it. His hands bury in my hair, and I have to swallow to take him deeper. His hands begin to force my head down. I know he wants me to choke, and I refuse to give that to him. So I swallow again. I feel the tremble run through the body against mine. I wrap my tongue around his cock, and begin to trace the veins on the shaft, while gulping him down. I hear the groan spill out of his mouth. I open my eyes and roll them up at him to gauge his reaction, and get metaphorically punched in the gut when his eyes clash with mine. The orbs to his soul are glowing with the primal desire burning at his core. The look a man gets when he knows he is going to fuck you hard. I work my throat once more, watching his face. He keeps eye contact, but the storms rages inside, and his body quakes again. A light growl escapes him, filling me with a glorious power. Quick deep intake of breath, and I begin bobbing ever so slowly. Slipping every bit of him in, and easing every bit back out. His breath quickens, murmuring encouragement. His hands still gripping my tresses, he begins to lead me in a rhythm of his own making. I have had him all in now; let him have his way, my nose meeting his body with each thrust. I close my eyes again, and concentrate on just the motion and sensation for a while. The sleek muscle encased in velvet. The heat and fullness stretching my jaw. The noises he makes and the way he's thrusting into my mouth... makes me feel closer to a climax myself. I notice him getting thicker and harder, and know I can get him off fast and hard if I keep this up. 'So you'll make me choke, will you?' I thought, with an inner goddess smirk. 'Tables TURNED.' I continue to indulge in my penis fetish, sucking, slurping, and gobbling his cock. I feel a tugging in my hair, and I draw deeper and faster. He fists his hands more forcefully, grip just on that borderline. I feel like I am close...I am a greedy bitch...and pulling my hair just gets me hotter. I grip his hips, set my nails and hold him close, taking every inch, really working my mouth. I swirl my tongue,tickling that sensitive spot at the base of the head. I can feel him try to pull away, and hum my displeasure at his escape attempts. He will not get his way. I can feel the shiver start at the base of my spine and work its way up. When the quivers become violent, I cry out against his dick. I love doing this...He begins to shake and stiffen, howls my name, and erupts stream after stream of cum down my throat. I eagerly drink him down, while stars and planets are exploding in my head and lightning forks through my body in orgasm.  My head is still held against his crotch, my mouth full of his cock. But I am still floating from my own enjoyment. When his hand loosens and strokes my hair, I pull back, sucking as I release him from my mouth. He jerks noticeably. I look him in the eye, lick the corners of my lips, and give him a smokey triumphant look, "I told you I don't choke." His laugh reverberates through my mind; I wake up...covered in sweat, flower soaked, and reeling from my latest wet dream.