Like Satin Over Steel

Someone is watching me.

Not by sight or sound does he betray his presence, but I feel his eyes on me. I shiver; not the kind brought on by fear, but the strange excitement of the unknown. I'm not sure why I feel my voyeur is a man, for as I turn, slowly circling, carefully scanning the riverbank on the opposite side, I see nothing out of place. No face peers back at me from the dense thickets of trees that run along both sides of the river, no sound reaches me except that of a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, stirring the red, gold, and bronze that have already settled on the ground this early in the fall.

Perhaps I am mistaken; perhaps it was just a creature of the forest passing in search of food or to quench its thirst at the water's edge. As if to confirm my thoughts, a deer appears from behind the large rock where I had earlier spread my clothes before entering the water. Feeling very foolish, I laugh off my nervousness and continue to bathe, lathering first my hair and then my body with the scented soap. As a cloud momentarily shrouds the sunlight, I shiver, very aware now of the coldness of the river. Carefully treading through the water, gripping the slippery stones with my toes, I make my way towards the shore, submerging once more before stepping out of the water.

I am completely unaware of the sway of my large bottom, or the way my nipples have hardened to twin peaks, as the cool air caresses my skin. The sun glints off the drops of water as they roll down my cocoa colored skin. I pad softly on the damp mossy grass leading up to the rocks, making my way to the largest. I place my hand, palm down, on the smooth surface, enjoying the warmth still captured from the sun within its gray mass. I sit on the edge, welcoming the feeling against my naked flesh, before stretching out completely. A sigh of pleasure escapes me as the feeling spreads across the surface of my chilled skin, up the back of my thighs, bottom, and back. Stretching, my hard nipples pushed towards the sky, I am lulled into a gentle slumber, transported there by the sounds of water lapping over pebbles and birds calling to each other high above where I lay. I don't remember falling asleep but I'm having the most delicious dream...

I am lying on the ground on a bed of fur. I stretch slowly, enjoying the feel of the softness beneath me and the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth nearby. I don't know how I've come to be in this place, I have never been here before, yet everything looks familiar. I experience a feeling of completeness, as if everything is as it should be. The silence of the room is broken only by the occasional hiss of the flames and the crack of thunder in the distance. I look around, scanning the shadows, and realize that I am alone. Where am I? How did I get here? The answers elude me.

And for the first time I am aware that I am naked, but strangely, unconcerned, unashamed. Looking around the room again I notice that the room is empty, the only piece of furniture is a large chair, propped against the far wall, hidden in the shadows near the door. I rise and walk towards the window, unmindful of the cold stone beneath my feet. The further I move away from the fire, the more I am enveloped by the cool darkness of the room, until my body becomes part of the shadows. Except for the occasional flash of lightning, nothing else is visible in the murky blackness outside and I stand there watching the raindrops splatter the windowsill. My nipples bead, and chilled, I return to the hearth.

Sitting, I fold my arms around my bent knees, drawing my plump thighs up to my breasts, resting my chin on them. I stare into the fire, the flicker and sway of the flames remind me of a mating dance. A feeling of rightness washes over me again and I languidly lay back, cushioned once more by the soft fur, arching my back, pointing my large breasts towards the ceiling. I run my hands over my body, enjoying the satin like texture of my skin, the roundness and the hollows, the peaks and valleys, not for the first time thankful of the fact that I am a woman. I caress my thighs, soft on the surface but firm beneath, trailing feather like touches from that sensitive area behind my knees, upward to the wetness between them. Dipping my fingers into the damp folds, I stroke the slickness, aware of an urgency building within me. I groan loudly, arching, as an intense tremor of pleasure shakes me. I feel as one with the flames, the heat coursing through my body threatening to engulf me. Perspiration glistens on my thighs and on my round stomach, pooling in my navel, forming rivulets that slowly drip to the fur beneath me. The dampness creates a glow on the darkness of my skin, bronzing the smooth surface. I lick my lips, capturing the full bottom one between my teeth as another tremor takes me. I am oblivious to everything else around me, the only thing that exists is the steady thrusting motion of my fingers, stretching, searching the depth of the tight wetness that makes me a woman.

I squeeze my eyes tightly as a face forms in my mind. He looks familiar; a face from a long forgotten past, this mystery man taunts me from the recesses of my memory. There is something about this man that drives me wild, beyond reason, increasing my urgency to climax. I plunge two, then three fingers inside me, ignoring the slight ache this causes. Licking the middle finger of my other hand I slowly circle my nipples, imagining that my hands are those of the man in my mind, giving me such intense pleasure. I squeeze and knead the fleshy mounds of my breasts, pulling and tugging on the hard peaks. I feel the urgency build deep within me, starting like a warmth in my stomach, and spreading in radiating circles until my entire being seems at risk of being torn apart with the force. Again, I feel the eyes of someone on me, but I am beyond caring. I scream, my large hips jerk and quiver as my lower body elevates from the floor, involuntarily. I spread my thighs wider; both hands gripping my wetness as spasm after spasm engulf me.

I drift for what seems like an eternity before the sensation of being watched once again comes to me. Rising slightly, I look down, between my parted thighs, towards the door, and I see him. Sitting quietly in the chair, in the darkness, watching me. Although I cannot see his eyes, I feel them on me, almost like a touch. I know that he saw me pleasure myself and a shiver runs down my back. Just then, a flash of lightning illuminates his face, it lasts only a second, but it is enough time for me to recognize him. He wears the face of the man in my mind, the same face that brought me to such ecstasy just minutes before, the face in my dreams. I stare back at him, slightly embarrassed at being caught like this, but oddly satisfied that he witnessed my most intimate of moments. He stands and moves deliberately into the light, never taking his eyes off me. I see him clearly for the first time. He is tall and powerfully built. The muscles in his thighs bulge as he moves towards me and I see that his lower legs are encased in soft calf skin boots. His damp shirt is open to his waist, the light dusting of dark hair covering his chest just visible. His face is strong, well defined, yet not classically handsome. He is a stranger, but I know him.

He continues to stare at me, he eyes moving from mine, down my body, over my slightly parted lips, the tips of my breasts, caressing my stomach, my hips and stopping briefly at where my fingers are still firmly inside me, then moving down my legs to the tips of my toes. He is so close now that if I were to point my toes they would brush the tops of his boots. I quickly remove my fingers from inside me, the sudden motion causing a noticeable sucking sound in the now quiet room. He drops to his knees, startling me as he reaches for my hand and licks the sticky fluid from my fingers. His eyes darken and his face shows his enjoyment of the way I taste. I am shaking with the raw sensuality of his actions; I have never seen anything so erotic. He groans something that sounds like my name, but I cannot be sure.

He looks up at me, still grasping my hand in his, and speaks. His voice is a surprise, slightly raspy, a deep baritone with a slight southern tinge. He tells me that he came upon me bathing in the river and he was incapable of turning away from the sight. He explains that the glow of the sinking sun played across my skin, shimmering on its darkness and that he was mesmerized by my motions as each time I raised my arms to rinse my hair the movement caused my large breasts to sway and my fleshy arms to quiver. He was about to turn to leave, he says, when I rose from the water and started to walk towards the shore. He said he was unable to tear his eyes away from the abundance of my body, the large bottom and wide hips tapering into very full thighs. The rounded stomach resting gently above the hairless pubic mound was more than he could bear to turn away from. My body, he continues, was that of a real woman, full and lush, the kind of body a man could lose himself in and that he had never seen anything so beautiful. It was at that moment he decided that he would claim me as his. He asks me if I am aware that my nipples resemble dark jewels when wet and I cannot answer, I am so in awe of this man before me.

"I want to know what it feels like to join with you," he says, "but not a gentle mating; there will be time enough to make love to you later. Right now I want to fuck you. Do you understand the difference?" I can only nod, as no words escape my lips. "I must bury myself as deeply as I can inside you and feel you tighten around me. I've never wanted another woman the way I want you right now." I know now that this is not a dream, that this is really happening to me and that I hadn't imagined being watched at the river. I say this to him and he admits that he waited until I had fallen asleep on the rock before approaching me. He'd watched me sleep for a while before deciding he would take me. He tells me that we'd lost touch before, many years ago, and that he wouldn't let it happen again. Now that I was back in his life he would do all the things to me that he had always wanted to do.

After moving me carefully to his cottage deep in the woods, he had returned to the river to bathe, returning a short while ago to find me lost in ecstasy. Not wanting to interrupt me, and deeply affected by the sight of me pleasuring myself, he had quietly taken a seat by the door and watched me. The view from where he sat allowed him to clearly see my every stroke and he imagined himself as my fingers. He tells me that he was so lost in what I was doing than when I screamed as I reached orgasm, he almost did the same. I can't speak, all words freeze in my throat, and I lick lips suddenly gone dry.

I look at him, slowly running my eyes over his face, searching for recognition. His hair, still wet from the rain and his bath, curls slightly where it touches his collar; the drying tendrils framing his face reveal the color of wheat. The piercing eyes, darkened by desire, appear to change from hazel to green and back again. My eyes move to his mouth, over slightly thin lips that promise untold joy. He lowers his head towards me, capturing my mouth and soul with the thrust of his tongue.

Lowering me to the fur, never breaking our kiss, he stretches his large body next to mine, his fingers loosening his clothing, desperate to remove them. Only when he is completely naked does he release my lips. Rising to his knees he towers over me and I can see he is deeply affected. His large hands rest lightly on the tops of his thighs as he fights to control their tremble; his broad chest rises and falls with each labored breath, the hair catching glints from the light of the fire. I lower my eyes, following the trail of hair as it tapers down his taunt stomach ending in a coarse nest at his pubes. I feel no shame as I boldly examine this magnificent man before me. My eyes slowly caress his erect member, standing tall and proud at the juncture of his thighs. It jumps slightly as my eyes pass over this part of his body, almost as if I had touched him.

He continues to watch me watch him and I feel a surge of power as I realize I am the reason for his extreme arousal. I look up at him, my eyes focusing on his face again and I see the tension as the muscles tighten in his jaws. I rise to my knees before him and take him into my arms, holding him tightly, flattening my breasts against his chest, his penis pressed against my stomach. He holds me and I feel suddenly very tiny, so protected by the raw power of this man. His lips take possession of mine again briefly before trailing a moist path down the column of my neck, licking and sucking, across my breasts, stopping at each in turn to draw a swollen nipple into the warm recesses of his mouth.

His hands, the palms slightly callused, move over my body possessively, grasping my bottom and pressing me into his hardness. I feel him squeeze my hips and his hands slip between our bodies. Slowly his fingers move upward until they are pressed against my moistness, and with a slight down and up motion of his hand, he inserts two fingers deeply inside me. I cry out and he captures the sound in his mouth as he once again devours my lips. I arch against him as he begins to stroke me in a steady plunging rhythm, increasing the speed and force once he is sure that I have opened enough to accommodate him.

I reach up, threading my fingers through his hair as I wrap my lips around his tongue, sucking, thrusting, matching the motions of his fingers inside me. I moan deeply and he raises his head, his eyes searching my face. "Did I hurt you my love?" he asks in a voice gone coarse with desire and my only reply is to shake my head. Continuing to look at me, as if gauging my response, he inserts a third finger inside me. I throw my head back and cry out, my body beginning to quake as I orgasm. My eyes are tightly closed and my lips are moist and slightly parted. He tells me to look at him, but I am unable to respond, I am lost in a world of pure joy. He withdraws his fingers almost completely from my body then forcefully plunges them back inside again, never taking his eyes from me. My eyes struggle to remain open and it takes everything in me to focus on his face. I am surprised by his look of victory, as if he had just won the most precious of prizes. I watch him, forcing myself to, wanting so badly to close my eyes again and slip back into the darkness, into heaven.

I follow the slow procession of his tongue across his lips as he lowers his head towards me, capturing my lower lip between his teeth. He alternates between gently biting and licking as if he is soothing a hurt. He withdraws his fingers from my body and I run my hands over his shoulders, following the smoothness down his wide back until I am gripping his tight buttocks with both hands. Squeezing him I pull him towards me, pressing the swollen length of him against my stomach. Rotating my hips in a circular motion, I caress his heated flesh and relish the feeling of satisfaction when I feel him tremble in my arms. He buries his face against my neck and groans, licking the hollow there. I reach between our bodies and wrap my fingers around his erect flesh, beginning to stroke him slowly. I am amazed by the feel of him in my hand, like satin over steel. His eyes snap shut and his body jerks and tenses. For a moment I worry that I may have taken him over the edge too soon and I quickly release him. He groans again but this time in protest, mourning the loss of my hand on his penis.

Grasping my shoulders, he presses me back until I am once again lying on the fur. He looks at me and the corners of his mouth lift slightly in a smile. It seems like an eternity passes before reaches for me, running his hands across my breasts, down my stomach, to my hips and thighs, settling on my knees. I feel the slight pressure of his fingers on my skin as he presses my legs apart, encouraging them wider and wider. He continues to look at me, his gaze now centered at the very core of my femininity. I feel no shame as he looks at me; the expression of awe transcends any self-consciousness that may have existed.

He lowers his head and I feel the warmth of his breath on my inner thighs just moments before I feel his lips on me, nuzzling and kissing my moistness. I grab his head, pressing him down as he begins to stroke me with his tongue, rolling my clit and drawing me into his mouth. I hold him firm, threading my fingers through his hair as I arch my hips towards him demanding more. The sound of the thunder has been replaced by my chant of "yes, yes, yes!" I am lost, I have died, I am reborn.

I lay trembling, a layer of perspiration glistens on my skin as he raises his head and looks at me. He smiles and moves over me, covering me with his hard body. He kisses me and I taste myself on his lips. I look into his eyes and I see the fire still raging within him and I feel the evidence nestled between my thighs. Shifting my hips slightly under his weight I position myself to accept him into my body and he takes my gift with a single downward thrust. I have never experienced this feeling of being so completely full before and several moments pass before the ache subsides. He remains perfectly still, allowing me the time I need to adjust to the size of him. As the ache is replaced by a warm rush, I signal my readiness by tightening around him, squeezing him in that special way only a woman can and he begins to move, so slowly at first that it is maddening. My breathing quickens and I moan his name, my nails rake the delicate skin on his back. His thrusts are now sure and strong, alternating between slow, long strokes and short quick jabs. My world is a maelstrom of sensation and I gasp for breath at the intensity increases.

He raises himself, supporting his body on his forearms, and looks down at me. The expression on his face is no longer arrogant or victorious; instead it is filled with such love and tenderness that for a moment I feel on the verge of tears. I pull him back down to me and take his tongue into my mouth, as I wrap my legs high on his back, adjusting myself so that I am completely accessible to his thrusts. I cry out and the sound is muted by his mouth. He again lifts his body, but this time he moves his hands behind my thighs and presses them forward until they are cradled against my chest. He tells me to looks down and I follow his eyes to where our bodies are joined. I watch as his hardness is coated and re-coated in my moisture with each sheathing of his body into mine. I am struck by the beauty in the contrast of our skin color, so very different but so perfectly right together. I reach for him and he is again in my arms.

His tightly held control is gone now and he plunges into me again and again, faster and faster. We are both beyond reason; the only thing, which exists for us, is the feel of our bodies, damp with perspiration, surging rhythmically together, sharing a single goal. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck as the first wave of pleasure shakes me, the spasms increasing in intensity as I peak. He accelerates his speed, determined to meet me at the top and I feel his body tense moments before I am aware of his flow deep inside me. I hold him, running my hands up and down his heaving back, as tears flow down my face. He lifts his head, concern showing in his eyes, and I smile to reassure him that I am all right. He kisses each eyelid, catching the salty drops with his lips.

I have no idea how long we remain like this, his body on mine, in mine, my legs and arms wrapped around him tightly, his face buried in my hair as I lick a drop of sweat from his shoulder. Our breathing slowly returns to normal yet we cling to each other, resisting the need to move, neither of us wanting the experience to end. I am completely dazed by what has happened, but I am now completely clear about one thing, I know this man and somewhere in the haze of my mind a name comes to me. This man, my soul mate, is...