Whisperings of Sweet Nothings
He licked his lips, his eyes dancing over that prone form that lay on the bed, the sheets tangled sensually around that lithe form. The long muscular legs stuck out from beneath the sheet; one hanging down, the foot brushing the floor. His arms were spread; one was strewn over his head, though gently placed over the forehead, while the other lay limp at his side.
His torso was covered with but a corner of that leopard print sheet. While it covered his stomach and his upper left chest, the pink nipple on the right poked out, sitting on a bed of corporeal muscles that while not bulging, were leanly defined.
His head was rested on the smallest incline on one of three pillows. The second was under his arm that jutted out, while a third was on the floor, under his foot.
His dirty blond hair, normally tame and carefully styled by day – though allowed to be caught in the gentle rolling breeze should an attractive young skirt strut by, wafting gently as to accentuate that seemingly innocent gaze, to conceal the truth that lay beneath the sexually charismatic smile – formed something of an angelic halo of fly a ways. An angelic halo that disguised what lay beneath.
That soft halo was accompanied by a serene expression; those lips that normally twisted into an overly charismatic grin, as he pitched woo, were caressed and lulled into a state of peace. His expression declared his utmost serenity; that he was at a deep point in his sleep; that he had surrendered himself to the sweet embrace of night.
He closed his eyes, his mind feeling the depths of that peaceful dream; a dream with very little. It wasn't a powerful one. It wasn't going to be one that would be foremost on the mind at dawn.
But…perhaps with a little help; he chuckled to himself; his little friend here would have the most vivid dream of his life, perhaps even a living one; one worthy of conversations twenty years from now.
He moved into the room, removing that flimsy sheet. It would get in the way when he needed it the most. Fortunately, there was nothing else in the way to impede on the gently telepathic ministrations once they commenced.
He opened his eyes, drinking in the vicinity; the dark room, whose only source of light was the dim light of the moon, which filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting a seductive beam that caressed the contours of the décor that accentuated this tiny but personal space.
The room's aura…ambiance radiated with the kind of mellow mood he needed in order to manipulate the situation to his liking. Though…there was something missing. The sweet melodic sounds of Cecilia Bartoli, on low, wafting through the room, capturing all into her gentle embrace. 'Of course…' he rationalized, 'I could substitute that with some of my own. After all, the power of suggestion does go quite far and in situations like this where I am in total control, I can have them believe whatever I want.' He moved over to where Yohji lay and caressed a hand over that firm chest. He had worked on his most sensual female voice for a while and believing he had achieved perfection in that area, he prepared to unleash it onto his victim. It was a voice that combined the gentle ministrations of a sexually advanced woman, one her knew how to wrap that flexible male form around her wee pinkie, while maintaining that cute voice that emulated the succulent innocence of the cute virgin schoolgirl. His gazed rested firmly on the sleeping young man, as he projected his range of thoughts into that seemingly serene dream. He was slowly merging his thought projection to make the seamless transition without causing any disruption to the delicate world of dreams and nightmares. Manifesting a form which was pleasing to the eye, he projected his perfect female self into the unwitting psyche of his malleable victim. From the mists that line that delicately woven world of dreams and nightmares, he slithered through stealthily, coming upon the scene which was the dream. A soft smirk caressed his lips and his voice, instantly transforming into that of a woman beckoned over his victim. He watched in sheer delight. Moving his shoulders in a humble female like fashion, his fluttered his eyes, mimicking the very image that danced day in and day out through Yohji's head; that vision of the perfect woman; practically perfect in every way. "Why hello…" his soft voice called through the breeze as his victim approached, enchanted by the seductress that stood before him. He knelt, taking her hand in his. He kissed the top of it. "I have waited for this day…" "Come with me…come away." "Where?" "A place of no return; one where no one shall ever find us…" "But does such a place exist?" "In this world it does. But, you must make me one promise…" "Name it." "Never open your eyes, for everything that you believe to exist outside of this world is but a false lie; a fabrication of the devil; one meant to lure you into what many believe to be reality, but instead it is a manifestation of hell, carefully disguised so that many cannot escape until they have all committed irreversible sin." A soft gasp escaped him, but he said nothing as her slender finger pressed itself over his slips. "You mustn't say a thing, for a devil can hear everything, both in this world and beyond. As long as you listen, you can avoid him." "What must I do?" "Take me, and make sweet love to me now." "But we've just met!" those words were so foreign to Yohji; something he had never dreamt he'd ever say; of course, he had never dreamt it, so, this wasn't a dream, right? After all, would such a beautiful fine creature ever resist him in his waking moments? It never happened. Rejection came as a deep seated nightmare, visibly fabricating in a world he had always believed was a dream world… But, did reality happen so fast? Did anything in his utmost desired dreams come true? He didn't have a chance to fancy with that, as he found himself on a bed of silky coverings, his body naked, and the most perfect female standing before him that he had ever seen. Her body curved seductively. Her breast were each shapely; well rounded and full, yet not obscene large. They were…perfect. Her hips weren't tiny, nor large. They were slender yet softly accentuated with a hint of gently rolling roundness to them. Her legs were long and lithe; her thighs were muscular yet lean. Her calves were defined, her ankles tiny though sturdy, decorated with a carefully placed silver band. His eyes traveled back up to that gorgeous face. Her lips were full and pink; her nose was tiny yet elegantly shaped. And her eyes…a perfect pair of deep, emerald green situated perfectly on her face; not too close together and not too far apart. Her head was crowned with soft flowing russet curls that framed her face. Her left hand caressed her lump left breast and she giggled. Her hand then moved down, gently moving over the vagina and down to part the lips and play with them as she lay in a so-called helpless position on the bed. He swallowed. This girl was quite forward. Though naked, he could feel his penis growing erect by the mere sight of this strange yet oddly familiar girl. "Go on…nurse it… make it dance for me…" she whispered, as her tongue snaked between her teeth. It then ran alone the top then on the bottom. She let out a soft groan. "A man who can't pleasure himself, can't pleasure a woman…" This girl… His breath was taken away and he could do nothing but think about her and her simple demands, as his hand slipped down and cupped his erect member, gently massaging it. "Oh…" she moaned. "You're good… Make it dance more, so that it'll be wet enough for me to ride… You want to take a ride, don't you? A ride is what will help you leave the last of the devil's world and enter the world of the angels…" she explained, as she probed two fingers into her birth passage, moving them around, her sight trained on him; enticing him. "You see…I must also prepare myself… we can't prepare the other because our souls are only pure enough to just ourselves…" He nodded wordlessly. He could think of nothing to say to this girl, as he fell back onto the bed. She crawled over to him, rubbing her breasts against him. He groaned softly. This was… no words could describe the elation. She rested her hands on his hips and gently lowered herself onto his erect penis and slowly moved up and down, up and down, taking care of the thrusting motion. "You do nothing…you enjoy it while I show you the way to the exit…" she whispered, her breasts bouncing as her movements grew more rapid and forceful. He groaned; thrashing beneath her. She was took much to handle while being just the kind of woman a sexually driven man like him desired, no needed. She satisfied his insatiable desires. She drove him to new heights never before known… Though…she wasn't actually on him; she wasn't riding him. His hand was her shaft… The hand around his forced the motion. Her sweet voice danced in his head as he neared his climax. She felt her drop on him, her breath laboured; her brow sweaty. She gently pushing up, her wispy breathe brushing over his ear. "You've achieved ascension, and now the last stage…" She stood up and took a knife. "The blood which flows through our veins is impure..." she smiled serenely at him. "Though, more correctly, yours is. For, I'm the angel which helps bring over those who can still be saved. I am just here to help you get over…" She wrapped her hand around his as she placed the knife in his… As he placed the knife in his, his gently disguised voice, massaging that supple brain, creating images that no man had ever seen before; nothing as dramatic; nothing as deadly… "Take this knife and drive it through the so called heart that the devil has given you…" he explained, his hand, coated in a thick layer of semen from the climatic end to that sweet little scene, caressed the limp penis, offering something of a pleasuring touch before death. Her face danced before his eyes. "This blade must be driven into your heart…a heart which the devil has deceived you into believing his pure…" He lifted his hand, tasting the semen. "It's such a pity… that you're not acting quickly. The slower you are, the slower the evil that we have drawn from you will enter you and take you again…" his masterful voice purred, as he helped guide that hand wielding the knife over the chest. "You must plunge it in…deep… like you did when I helped give you release… helped give you release through an act that the devil…disguised as god, as led you to believe is a dirty sinful act…" Her words faded from his brain as the knife dove deep into his chest, puncturing the major organ that pumped life generating fluids through him. No longer were those fluids going to give him life; no, they weren't going to as they liberally flowed from his body onto the bed, soaking those fresh from the dryer sheets. His eyes were closed, a serene smile over his lips, as his hand clutched that knife; pushing it further and further in until there was no more. But, still, more and more blood gushed forth. The stranger, smirked, his semen covered hand reaching into that blood and letting his hand be warmed by the fountain of endlessly flowing red fluids, that weren't so red under the dim lighting of the moon; whose lighting was filtered by the sheer flimsy curtain that danced gently in the wind. Someone had left that window opened… Someone who had left… Someone…someone… but who? Who would've left that window opened Yohji's friends would wonder…