~ Love In The Mist ~
by
Scott C. Ristau
In
the bedroom, Nigella switched off the lights and took off her clothes but left
the necklace with the odd markings hanging around her neck. The chilly air
raised gooseflesh on her skin. However, fatigue dragged at her. So, instead of
taking the time to put on pajamas, she quickly pulled back the covers and slid
into the moonlit bed in the hope of getting warm and recovering her strength.
Outside, the wind died down, bringing peace to the urban neighborhood. Somewhere
beyond the window of her room, a dog barked to the accompaniment of subdued
traffic noise. Otherwise, all was quiet.
After she closed her weary eyes, relaxation slowly crept over Nigella. She
stretched beneath the sheets and felt the linen caress her naked body. Long and
lustrous, her coal black hair streamed out over the pillow. As somnolence again
took hold, her connection with the waking world grew more tenuous. Her thoughts
lost all coherence and began drifting into the smooth, dark oblivion of the
night.
An
hour passed unnoticed. Then, uncertain if she was awake or asleep, Nigella began
to experience strange sensations. With fearful wonderment, she felt someone
touch her. The strong, firm hand of a man came to rest upon her calf. His
fingers flowed sinuously along her leg as the meandering progression of his hand
glided toward the velvety flesh of Nigella’s inner thigh.
Lost
in the chaos of her thoughts, she remained motionless as the phantom palm
explored further north, proceeding with purpose across her slender waist and
settling over the slope of Nigella’s warm breast. Gentle, clutching fingers
massaged the bountiful meat of her bosom, and she imagined her stiffening nipple
first encircled by hungry lips, then moistened by a playful, flickering tongue.
Unable to distinguish between reality and dreams, Nigella could not be sure how
frightened she should be of these sensations and her own escalating arousal.
Enveloped in a half-luminous cloud, a mysterious weight settled on top of her.
The masculine force descended upon her recumbent form with amorous vivacity and
a conquering virility. She opened her eyes but saw nothing within that white,
transparent mist. Yet she clearly heard the hypnotic rhythm of his excited
breathing. Its warmth pulsed against her ear and she was kissed by unseen lips
about the face and neck.
The
amorphous mist raised a baffling fog inside her head. Reason became obscured.
Logic lost its definition. However, the exaggerated details of this fantastic
dream seemed crafted with a jeweler’s precision. Nigella, petrified with
astonishment, tried to rouse herself from the tantalizing terror of her dream,
but to no avail. The press of her ghostly lover’s embrace would not allow
escape.
Yet
intertwined with her fear was a wholly unexpected emotion. Nigella’s fright was
overwhelmed by a surfeit of tactile wonders and the building intensity of her
libidinal desires. She discovered the phantasmal form atop her to be
astoundingly adept at provoking her animal appetites and inciting her sensual
instincts. Filled with rapturous sensations, her body ignited with wanton
sensuality, and the supreme intoxication of these voluptuous impressions numbed
her mind to rational thought. She no longer cared to understand and so gave up
trying to think.
Embracing her mental and physical helplessness, she fell back upon the bed,
welcoming defeat. Aroused beyond all endurance, Nigella surrendered to the
madness of the moment and abandoned her self-control. Drunk on an inebriating
brew of staggering thoughts and sensations, she chose to accept her weakness,
her indefensible vulnerability, and take pleasure in submission.
Nigella was carried in tandem with her lover to a world she had never known
before. There she roamed the fields of forbidden joy found within the realm of
madness. Nigella’s flesh began to burn with the consuming heat of hell’s fire as
the specter slid inside her, exciting every nerve. Penetrated by the unearthly
manifestation, Nigella’s body undulated with the gradual release of long
suppressed primal passions. She felt him enter and withdraw at rhythmic
intervals, a slow and easy pace that set her burning with extreme carnal desire.
Together with her own, his movements slowly intensified into a state of
ferocious passion. In an excess of physical euphoria, Nigella mewled and moaned
with pleasure. She was gradually persuaded to believe in the phenomena’s reality
by the convincing sensations experienced by her flesh. These extraordinary
sensations and the emotions they inspired brought her to the verge of screaming.
Nigella squirmed, her body writhing in a fit of intense feeling.
Carried by a mounting wave of incoherent ecstasy toward an irresistible and
explosive climax, Nigella threw her head back and clenched her teeth. Every
muscle tensed and, riding a wild orgasm, her body bucked uncontrollably upon the
bed.
Yet behind this untamed bliss lurked the vague suggestion of something dimly terrible. Cloaked beneath the amazing thrill of physical delight, she had the feeling of being degraded and unclean. Precipitated by these emotions, moisture glistened upon her lashes and a single tear ran from the corner of Nigella’s eye. She had to bite her pillow to keep from crying out or weeping aloud.