Welcome to another episode of Bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled ‘Couldn’t be Better” . I whisper I love you as I lie in my bed, wishing you were here next to me instead. Pretending you're here to keep me safe, into my dreams I gladly escape. An image of you soon becomes clear, he warmth of your body, as I feel you near Into your beautiful eyes I gaze. Slipping into a dreamlike haze
Soon I feel my heartbeat race, imagining your gentle and sweet embrace. I hear you whisper your love for me, feeling your kisses both soft and deep. Into your arms I begin to melt, each trace of your fingers upon me is felt. Lovingly your hands roam along my thighs, drowning in pleasure I gasp and sigh. The room is spinning and starts to sway, lost in the moment, I'm swept away. Passionate kisses getting much stronger, willing this dream to continue on longer
My skin feels hot, my breath gets quicker, chest rising and falling, as my body quivers. Sensations go through me as I feel your touch, wanting this moment to be real so much.
I awaken and turn, though you are not there, but I bask in the moment we once did share. Missing your voice and your hands to hold, many a night my bed feels empty and cold. I force myself back to sleep again, wanting to drift to where we had been. I long for the night when I awaken and see you lying right here, right beside me.
This is my image of you, Sir. My thoughts before I go to sleep.
Do you want to watch me, Sir? Let’s begin….
I found myself starring at the screen unable to concentrate. Thoughts of my lover, you, My Doctor, my Alpha Male, my Dom, Sir, had invaded my mind again and began to resonate through my flesh. I sat, my tall frame slouched, twisting my long red hair round my fingers, my deep hazel eyes, with a spherical hint of green, sparkled with delight. It wouldn’t be hard for you to read them right now I mused.
The moments seem to come with more frequency nowadays and I feared they may be affecting my work. Still I couldn't fight them nor did I find I wanted to, the happiness I felt when I thought of you was welcome, even needed these days.
It was always like this. it would start with the scent of you, something would trigger the memory of your sweet flesh and the fresh smell of your tempting cologne. I inhale deeply and release a desperate sigh as it began to wash over me. All my other senses could not help but be persuaded to join in.
The sight of your sexy man features, defined cheeks, sweet perfection for lips, how I love to kiss your lips and those eyes, those clear blue eyes that begged me to swim in them. You keep your chestnut hair short, a well tailored crew cut, and I love the way it feels in my hands. Your form screaming with masculinity, broad shoulders, safe inviting muscular arms, every ounce of tall dark and handsome, six feet of perfection.
At this point I broke; no longer able to fight it I called my lover. That is you, Sir. The sound of your voice on the other line, melodious smooth and deep, sending me weak at the knees. The conversation started simple as they always do, hi baby how are you today and other small talk.
We had begin to reminisce how all of this started with an innocent kiss. How you had placed a single finger just inside my sweater, using the top button to pull my sexy body to you. “I blame you,” you said “your sweet artful seduction, as if you weren’t aware of what you were doing.” “Me sir, seduce you, never.”
You must hear it, the want in my voice, how desperately I miss you, because the playfulness comes out in you. “Do you miss me?” “Are you thinking of me?” Confessing that the sound of my voice is warming you. The pattern of my breathing is bringing you to a sweet level of arousal. I let out a gentle whimper, a result of the surge of power that the knowledge of what I am doing to you brings on. “I love hearing you make that noise,” you say with arousal, “it’s adorable.”
“Are you touching yourself?” The question catches me off guard. Am I right now? No.Do I feel the urge to, Fuck yes.
You disposition slowly transforms from playful to sinful as you tell me your cock has become rigid and how swollen it is in your grip, knowing the thought of your hard cock will cause me to get so fucking aroused and drive me to touch myself. I have never hidden my absolute adoration for your manliness; I have admitted to craving your long thick smooth shaft and even used the word beautiful to describe it in past conversations.
Once again the question comes, “are you touching yourself?” My reply this time a weak breathful “yes.”
With a trace of my lips and a teasing touch to the tip of my tongue I am lost in it, my eyes close. I slide my hands down across my double-d breasts, tugging at my erect nipples moving down across my ribs, abdomen and hips, then bringing them to the inside of my thighs. My heated flesh inviting me to come closer, each word from you daring me to. Should I, asking myself if this is the place. The question alone seems to arouse me as the mere thought of being caught adds to the intense need to try.
Your quiet deep voice explaining the details of how and where you want to touch me. “Can you feel my hands,” you ask. “Gently caressing your soft porcelain skin, my lips and tongue following the path they lay, warm breath against dampened flesh.”
Finally my fingers surrender tenderly tracing the line of my pretty pink panties threatening to slip beneath them. My garden now radiating heat and moist with expectation. The thought of your throbbing manhood entering me is more than I can bare.
The temptation is too much. Two fingers make a pass at my pulsing clit and slip sweep the wet opening. My body trembles, my fingers slightly chilled. I slide down in my chair, just enough to allow me more access.
Bringing my fingers to my mouth I moistens the tip of them, gliding them delicately across my inflamed erectile organ, stealthily sinking to penetrate my burning passage. A subdued moan confesses to you that I am putty in your hands. You paint visions of your body upon mine, reminding me with an occasional groan that as you are taking me to the utmost level of pleasure you yourself is going there. Our own hands playing the role of the other.
“Mmmm do you like that,” You ask me, almost begging to hear how it feels. My reply is weak and tender as the back and forth motion brings me closer, “yes,” pleading to you, “harder, deeper, faster.” Our panting breath in unison. Your hand clutching your firmness stroking with vigor. My fingers fondling my perky clit. “I want to hear you cum,” I demand, “to hear the moment when you break, when the idea of us sets you aquiver.”
As if on cue, my low seductive voice beseeching you to cum is all it takes and in response to the sound of the incremental moans as you release your creamy nectar, I too find myself overflowing.
In a heavy breathed joy filled voice you ask me “are you okay,” your tenderness ever present. I sigh a trembling, “couldn't be better, Sir.”
