Lonely Dreams
Lonely Dreams
He's beautiful. What more can I say? Everything about him is wonderful. His smile, his golden eyes, 'shining' with love, buff body that everyone admires, soft voice, plush, well groomed fur, and of course intelligent. And he's mine. All mine.
"I love you." I wisper secretively, nuzzling his chest. I feel his chest rise and fall in quick succession as he laughs, hugging me tight. His fur is so soft, gently warming my body. "I really do." He kisses my head, rubbing his hands along my back, drifting them slowly south. How wonderful. I can already feel my sheath swelling, making my body ache for something other than simple touches.
With his free hand he tilts my chin up, kissing me so softly. I can feel his tongue, soft, velvety, gently pressing against my lips, asking for entry. I allow him, enjoying the subtle control he has. He can be so cute. He expects me to do as he wants, but would never force me. Nor would he ever press it. He could accept a 'no.' Not that I'd ever say no.
My rump archs away from him suddenly. A spazme I have no control over as his hand runs across my hind end and over the base of my tail. It's embarrassing. But he loves it, and that makes it worth it. I feel a small vibration in my chest. Working it's way from my core outwards. A deep vibration. Only he can make me purr so deeply. He repeats the motion over and over until my body is contorted into an awkward arch, and I feel like I'm vibrating the bed from my purring.
"you enjoy that?" He rumbles, rolling ontop of me, his own erection coming to rest on my chest, just infront of my face. If I stick my tongue out I could just touch it. My own erection suddenly jumps to the front of my mind as I feel his paw wrap around it, slicked with some sort of lube. Probably spit. And he starts jerking me off. "how about this?" I try to answer him. I really do. But I couldn't answer. The feeling was amazing. And my mind just... overloaded. I close my eyes and relax into bliss, letting him pleasure me. "What about me?"
I open my eyes and look at him. He's still pleasuring me, but he has a puppydog look to his eyes, and is making small thrusts accompanied by wimpers. I still can't speak. But, I don't think i need too. He knows I love him. He knows I will. After all. A healthy relationship can't be one way. I need to fulfill my end.
I reach up, moving my hands towards his shaft. A slight tension building as I get closer. He's about nine inches. Bigger than me by about two too three. I think it's proportionate, or at least average. For wolfs. Bright red, tapered at the tip, a slight trail of pre dribbling out. I can't help but lick my lips. Wether in the giddy tension, or a desire to do more than touch I know not. At the base, is his knot, already halfway swollen.
Finally I make contact, shuddering from the texture difference. He's smooth. I'm rough. It's wonderful to feel him shudder. Knowing I caused it. I start jerking my hand up and down his length, trying to get into a rythm. As I thrust up into his hand I pull my hand down his member. I am close. So is he. Even if I justi started on him. I want to hold back as long as possible. Waiting until he cums to allow myself. It would be wonderful. I watch as his pre slicks the fur on my hand, entranced by the clear liquid. If I stuck my tongue out and reached a little I could just reach his tip.
I'm fearful though. I haven't done that yet, and I don't know how he would react. It had to be good right? I want to. Oh, how I want to. He's close... And it would be a waist to let only a little reach my mouth. To lose the delicious nectar his body makes. I know it would be delicious.
I tilt my head to my chest, reaching with my tongue to touch the red spear of flesh so close. He pulls his hips back, his member following suit, ending up just out of reach. Oh, I want it. I reach up and behind him, trying to pull him closer, but my hands pass through him. It can't be. The picture's fading. It can't be. But it is. It's a picture. A dream.
Upon that realization it all crashes down. He's gone. His scent, touch, and image. All gone. But he left me a present. I'm awake, and aware of the hard on i'm sporting. I shift the covers off me. When I touch myself I can tell I'm close. I start to pump my hand along my member, images of him flashing through my mind.
As i cum, it's not mine, but his, splattering across my chest. It adds to the pleasure, but still, it's not him. It's me. My own lonely dreams. But one day I'll have someone. Hopefully him.