Taken... By The Hunger

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Lynden's distraction with 'haunting' of being taken.
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Marcxs
Marcxs
3 Followers

It had been a few weeks now, since Lynden had experienced the 'haunting' of being 'taken', but it still lingered at the edges of her daily consciousness as a niggling distraction. Though she had tried valiantly to suppress, block or deny those thoughts and feelings that threatened to intrude upon her self-determination to ever need or be consumed by anyone or anything, she had to admit mixed but strong heartstrings to the vivid memories of that night and threads to her recent past.

Here again, she lay upon her bed at the close of another day. Finally, able to relax a bit and gain solitude for her thoughts - wanted or unwanted - after the duties of household and parenting had been completed for the day. Her younger daughter has been tucked in bed for the night and backpack readied for the next school day. Meanwhile, muted sounds of the television wafted up the stairs and underneath her closed bedroom door from the living room where her older son entertained himself.

The nighttime air was cooling with the advent of fall weather outside, but still the stuffiness of the day's heat lingered, adding to the 'heat' of those thoughts and feelings now allowed to intrude again upon her at this late hour. Once again, she had foregone wearing any pajamas to bed in favor of feeling the coolness of her satin sheets against her feverish body... and truth be told thoughts.

Unfortunately, and all too common of late, sleep had refused to come to her quick aid in the place of restlessness. She turned onto her back again, kicking to untangle the sheets at her legs for room and comfort. A deep sigh escaped from her lips as she stared up at the ceiling paddle fan visible through the boulevard streetlight filtering into her bedroom windows and upper porch door. She didn't really see the fan or its silent revolutions, for her mind was fixed fully upon her plight. Even now, her body refused to follow the dictates of her mind as it betrayed her by arousal at the mere inner suggestion of that night.

Being a sensual creature, Lynden had always been in tune with her body, even as a young woman. The telltale signs of arousal were there, her flushed condition with the resultant 'heat'... the tingle or itch of her sex. And if she dared to touch herself... there were no doubts about her being 'wet' with latent desire as well.

With a sigh of resignation, she realized that like all the other recent nights, if sleep was ever to find her... she would have to breakdown and pleasure herself in order to dim the turmoil of thoughts lingering in the back of her mind... not mention, tire herself out such that sleep yet might come. After a week's worth of successive nights of this... she'd also given up on the idea of ever satiating the gnawing desire.

She breathed in deeply for a moment as if girding herself for what must follow, while stretching out fully onto her back with legs slightly parted and arms beside. She moved her right hand to rest and pause briefly on her stomach before moving to lightly caress her belly button with her fingertips. Slowly she worked her way along the flat of her stomach upward, her thumb reaching further up to caress the underside of her breast while the little finger kept its teasing contact with her belly button. She shivered slightly as her skin prickled, capped off by a noticeable intake of breathe.

As if without conscious thought, her left hand moved of its own accord to glide over her left hip to the sensitive juncture of skin between thigh and sex. The fingertips of this hand tracing a circle around her pubis mound... pleased by the overall smoothness of her skin as shaved. All that remained was a small tuft of blond hair above her sex. She bit her bottom lip as she slightly flexed her hips up and down, while her right hand had come up to feel the heft of her right breast and caress its underside.

She brought both hands up her body then, seeking to build her overall arousal better... and eventual climax through particular attention paid to her breasts. Taking a nipple in one hand between forefinger and thumb, she squeezed it while lifting the other breast up with the other palm. The nipple between her fingers responding to the pressure began to delightfully ache... squeezing harder and twisting it a little produce a sharper pain. But a 'good' kind of pain! She thought.

Her reason suggested that she should stop, while desire countered that she could take more... that she wanted to take more! Her internal battle subsided briefly, before her other hand moved from merely hefting the other breast to a grasp of its nipple as well. The sweet torment began again, only this time with both nipples delightfully aching from being twisted and pulled, the rise and fall of pressure over and over again... highlighted by the pain of her bitten lower lip.

Lynden's desire continued to grow along with her mounting sexual tension. Her sex cried out to be touched, so she raised her left thigh crossing it over the right, and squeezing them together to offer any kind of pressure to it in the meantime. The delicious pain and pleasure of her breasts became too much. She used her tongue to wet her lips now dry from her sharp breathing ... almost as if all bodily moisture has disappeared in favor of her pussy. She released her right breast... sending that hand down her body to push between her crossed thighs.

The instant her probing index and middle finger hit the top of her damp sex, an involuntary prolonged moan escaped from her... as finally they met her so sensitive bud. Both finger searching and reaching... and pushing down. Her juices coating them in sweet slickness as her labia parted and caressed them back. She curled them up through her folds, pressing her clit and delivering a delightful mix of pain and pleasure through aching sensitivity.

Overwhelmed with both pleasure and a need for completion, she twisted onto her side, her right hand of three fingers shoved in as far as possible... stretching herself as far as possible, but unfortunately unable to reach that bundle of nerves deep inside. That would take longer fingers than she possessed! Her thighs squeezing tight together, their weight and pressure adding to the 'frigging' of her fingers. With great anticipation, she twisted, both squeezed and pressed down harder and faster with hand and thighs as another low guttural moan escaping from her lips. But yet her climax seemed slow to mount!

It just wasn't enough! Too frustrated and growing impatient at not being able to bring herself closer to the edge... it suddenly came to her. Could it be? Determined with the idea... she jerked herself off the bed and approached her tall chest-of-drawers. I wonder if its still there. Now, in which drawer did I keep them... or it? She thought to herself. She started at the top, right hand side, beginning a desperate and methodical search for it. Standing on her tiptoes, she searched almost blindly by hand through the top drawers. Along the way she felt... discarded journals, a book and maybe a forgotten vial of perfume or two. But, no luck. Moving down to lower rows of drawers, she dug deep through lingerie, hosiery and socks, and with still no find for her near-frantic search. Next drawer, housed pajamas and cotton tees. Bent over, she reached far with both forearms under the packed clothes, feeling the back and corners of the drawer for it. Having got this far with no luck, she almost gave in to the notion that just maybe she had thrown it away after all, when a fingertip grazed the length of a smooth and ribbed object.

As if her hand had a mind of its own, her hand jerked back to clutch at the object with her fingertips. Feeling it again, her fingers closed around it with certainty, but also wonder... and withdrew it from underneath the pile of clothes wedged into the drawer. Exposed to the filtered nightlight, her eyes took in its shape and purpose.

Lynden's fingers ran over the soft skinned and veined vibrator. Although it wasn't designed to accurately replicate a man's cock, it was shaped like one with a gentle curve, veining, and a bulbous head. Above average in length at 8-inches, it was covered with both a forgiving and smooth 'blue' colored skin to mimic a man's texture. And maybe best of all... on the opposite end it possessed a twist-on control for vibration. But, this function had to be 'dead' as batteries didn't last that long... plus, her memory suggested that they were dead the last time she used it.

Back on the bed in a flash and resuming her prior position, she wasted no in pushing the head of the vibrator between her crossed thighs. Lynden began to thrust the lost-but-now-found toy into her wet pussy and slowly fuck herself deeper and more purposefully than had been possible with her fingers. Ohhh... it felt so good! She was now able to reach places within her... not possible by fingers alone. Her left hand and fingers resume their pinching caress of that breast's nipple. Yet another low moan of both hunger and heightened pleasure were offered up to the nighttime air as remembered feelings of fullness and deeper stimulation came back to her.

She twisted onto her side again to seek that delicious mix of tightness and pressure on her pussy through crossed thighs and her thrusting hand with the ohh... so sinfully sweet tool. Lynden bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as she drove herself higher and higher. Her eyes clenched tight as the head of her pleasure toy slid in and out of her pussy. She felt her excitement grow, but still something wasn't quite right. She wanted more tightness... more pressure! Acknowledging that while her hand was necessary to fuck herself with the newly rediscovered toy, her wrist kept blocking efforts to apply consistent pressure via her crossed thighs. Plus, she still couldn't seem to get the right angle of thrust such that the head of her toy might regularly rub her g-spot. She wondered...

Lynden twisted completely to turn over completely onto her stomach and knees. She thought to brace her head, neck and one shoulder against the mattress, while curving her back enough to raise her hips off the bed, bringing her sex closer to her slightly twisted torso and the other outstretched shoulder arm with her toy. She kept her legs still crossed, but drew her fanny closer to aid her reach by coming up slightly onto her knees. She used the bulbous head of the toy to feel around behind her fanny with her outstretched arm, using her crease to both tease and guide the tip past the 'little brown star' toward her pussy.

Then she traced the toy tip back and forth across the sopping entrance to her sex. That sensation alone made her gasp in delight. But she was determined to explore this new position completely. Even with just the slightest hand pressure, the shaft of the 8-inch toy slid in sinfully deep. It felt exquisite... the fit was tight and the angle seemed to touch all the right places. The lips of her labia both tugged in release while at the same time drew the shaft back in of its own accord, mostly likely because of the toy's girth. The overall tight pressure felt ohhh... so good, she thought. Good enough to feed her growing desire. She slowly rolled and tilted the shaft angle with each deliberate cycle of 'fucking' herself.

She inhaled sharply at the sensation of fullness and being ravaged which came along with each thrust. The toy becoming more soaked with her cream at the mental image of 'taking' herself from behind... her ass provocatively posed in the air afforded maximum penetration and angle! Successful in finding the right angle to repetitively tap and rub her g-spot, she increased her rhythm as the delightful friction and tension climbed higher. Time seemed to stand still as she gave into the rising wave of sensations cascading within her. Her eyes rolled back and she tried to breathe as well as stay quiet. The mounting temptation to yell was threatening to take her restraint.

She knew the 'edge' was close... her breathing began to come in short, agonized gasps, which she couldn't help by punctuate with moaned 'oohs' and 'aahs'. Slowly, a feeling of intense flush... a fevered heat began to flow over her body. She could feel it washing over her from the tip of her toes to the hair on her scalp. The heat spread over her body, and she vaguely had a sense of being complete enveloped... consumed by it, her breath came in sharp staccato gasps. It was then that she had an out-of-body experience... disconnected... as if floating in pool of fire, all sensations lost save for the cresting wave of pleasure threatening to take her over the edge. Lost in the moment, she was unable to do much besides claw at the bedsheet with a death grip in her other hand, grunt and pump the toy into her swollen, wet pussy with a frenetic urgency.

The drop over the 'cliff' turned out to be shattering... as her body shuddered involuntarily, legs and back shaking in spasms of contraction and release. In a flash, the heat erupted as Lynden's already sensitive skin tingled with the feeling of thousands of needles. A kaleidoscope of colors flashed before her eyes unbidden. Where the shaft penetrated her, though, was the most intense. Her clit cried out to her, and her pussy clenched on the toy of its own accord, in a natural act... milking the shaft for its alleged seed.

The final wave of her climax brought stars to her eyes and she bit her lower lip, bruising the tender flesh. "Oh fuck!" she cried. Her fingers released the clenched satin sheet, her palms convexed outward, and she felt as if she was hitting rocky shores of a great ocean, riding the surf ever slower to rest upon the outcropping. Her body continued to experience successive but lessening tremors as she fought for air... until finally her breathing held and her body stiffened. "Fuck yeah!" she yelled and stilled, as exhaustion stole over her.

****

He let his gaze slide over her. She lay partially upon her back, her arms open, breasts high and nearly bared by the satin sheet just clinging to her curves. In her slumber, she looked like a painting of an angel - in the streetlight... a silver, bewitching and mysterious angel - descended from the heavens into his midst. But, the furrowed brow of her forehead? Even in her sleep... something unknowable goes on inside that guarded mind.

Lynden's right knee was pulled high and bent inward, rucking up the satin sheet and exposing her leg to mid-thigh. Greedily, he let his eyes trail up her leg. The light from the outside street bathed her exposed flesh in a silver light. She murmured restlessly, and rolled a litter farther toward him, the top of the satin sheet dragging lower still, to coyly unveil the tip of one full breast. It was an elegantly indecent pose.

His fingers yearned to skim up her inner leg, to drag the satin higher... revealing more. Uncertainly, he reached forward, then yanked his hand back as if stung. No! He would not attempt to seduce her while she slept, only to have her wake, tousled and aching, yet uncertain whose touch had inflamed her. When he aroused Lynden - and took her, swift and sure... she would know that it was he who did so. He was tired of the wanting to be fully understood... and wanting, the ceaseless yearning for something he could not have.

For it seemed not that long ago, Lynden had writhed in his arms with an uninhibited passion few women possessed. Somehow, he would unleash that emotion again. Yes. He would please himself, and he would please her. And this time, when he was done, he would leave her so sated, she would never again think to wander!

It mattered not one bit that he had been apart from her this long... his confidence severely shaken as to her preferences, what made her sigh with pleasure, how she liked to be taken. He knew the things that did matter: the taste of her skin, the sound of her need, the scent of her arousal. These things that haunted him all too well.

Yes, he would have her. He would convince her. His hands shook with the lust and the shame of it. Standing still in watch over her, he hesitantly reached out with one hand to touch her... reconnect his senses with hoped for caresses now lost to him. Touching his fingertips to her breast... her nipple, he watched it swell and harden as he traced its form. In her sleep, Lynden answered by turning into his touch, her mouth parting, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Smoothly, he pulled the satin sheet lower, exposing her more fully to his view. Moving to caress her other breast, then watching it too harden with need. A short pause of reverence... and gathered determination, he bent down to suckle, tracing her form with the slight moisture from his tongue-tip, faintly rasping her delicate skin with his beard, then drawing her deep into the warmth of his mouth.

To his shock, Lynden rolled fully onto her back, and her warm hands came up to cradle his head. Beyond his line of sight, he could hear her foot begin to slide restlessly down the satin sheet and back up again, like a cat seeking the pleasure of a stroke. "Ahh... mmm... so good," she murmured drowsily. He was stunned by her words. And then, she jerked awake, bolting up in bed!

He too jerked upright. With a soft cry, Lynden scrambled backward, pulling into a near crouch against the headboard of her bed, dragging the bedsheet together to hide her nakedness. In the silvered light from the street, her eyes were wide and angry.

"Drop the sheet, Lynden," he said, trying to suppress the tremor in his voice. "I swear, I just can't take it any longer." In the dark, he heard her gasp as he stripped off his dark pullover, exposing his naked torso as he let it drop to the floor.

"No!" she said softly, extending her hand, palm out, as if she might hope to hold him off. "No! Who do you think you are? Get out!"

"Oh, Lynden," he whispered, his voice raw, "I have grown so weary of this standoff. You were meant for me. Now just drop the sheet." He wanted to watch, he realized, his fingers fumbling to loosen the fastening of his pants. He wanted to see her, shaking with uncertainty, as she gave into revealing herself knowingly for him. Power. Yes, he wanted power over Lynden. The power to make her tremble beneath him. And the power to make her beg.

It was not his way, he knew. That such desire was wrong - possible even crazy - he knew that, too. But somehow, he just did not care anymore. It was as if something within him had finally snapped under the pressure of wanting to be reconciled in all ways to her. Seemingly a lifetime of aching. Years of submitting to... and honoring another woman before her, only to rise apathetically from a cold bed, appeased yet unsatisfied, for far too long.

It was time to make her ache as he did. This time, it would be he who cast her under a spell; something to rival her own. He would take her with his fingers, his tongue, and with his cock, until she had been driven mad with pleasure.

"I cannot believe you have the nerve to invade my home... let alone my room," she whispered. "I've had enough of you pushing me."

"Not so very long ago it seemed, you didn't find my pursuit... my focused-attentions so unwelcome," he answered bitterly. "Tell me, Lynden, have I grown so unattractive... or boring... unworthy of any effort on your part? Do you prefer someone so much more different than me?"

Angrily, she shook her head. "What bothers me is that you can't seem to leave me in peace!" Lynden came to her knees, the satin sheet cascading about her on the bed. Unlike her words, she seemed small and delicate in the streetlight. "As to what I prefer, it is none of your business anymore!"

He threw back his head in an abrupt sigh, "Oh really! Make up your mind sweetheart! In the past you've confessed to wanting... and knowing to be 'pursued' by me, but on the other hand, all forms of available pursuit open to me are thought to be 'pushing' by you? In the end, I've come to think that you lie," he said softly, reaching to brush the back of his hand across her nipple and watching it swell with need.

Marcxs
Marcxs
3 Followers