Chapter One
Samantha Gaynes tripped over her own feet and went crashing down in a boneless heap onto her couch. Her head swam dizzily and she let out an unladylike burp, grimacing when the after burn of too much Southern Comfort stung her throat. What a way to spend her Valentine's Day. What a way to spend her birthday! Drunk, unemployed, lonely and horny as all get out. It was shameful and pathetic -- she knew that -- but that was one good thing about being alone. There was no one around to see you when you finally hit rock bottom.
She had hit the bottom so hard that she'd fallen straight through it and found an entirely new level of low.
How could she have been so stupid -- to think that the worst wouldn't happen and she'd lose her job? Everyone knew that their company was giving thoughts to downsizing, but she'd foolishly held out hope until the very last. Of course she should have known better than to ignore the warning signs. She should have been putting money aside for such an emergency, should have been scouting for another job just in case. But she hadn't. She was flat broke and without prospects. The job market was pure hell because of the recession -- especially for anyone in her field -- so all she had to look forward to now was perhaps a job at a fast food restaurant to help her earn some living money until something better could be found.
Sam groaned as her head spun out of control again and berated herself for her pessimistic thoughts. It wasn't like her to look at the dark side of things. Her pathetic attitude must be from the effects of too much drinking. Feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere -- she knew that -- and as soon as she sobered up she'd put all of these lugubrious thoughts behind her and start looking for a job. Surely there would be something for her out there in the great wide world; she just had to keep her chin up and her hopes buoyed with happy thoughts.
But first...she needed to pass out.
Her eyes became heavy and her sight grew dim. Her head swam round and round, making her feel as though she were riding a loop the loop roller coaster ride at an amusement park. At times the feeling was almost euphoric and utterly delicious -- at others it made her stomach churn and go queasy. She held a shaking hand to her head, closed her eyes and laughed drunkenly. What a way to end a perfectly horrid Valentine's Day.
With one last little burp she lost consciousness.
Hot breath spilled over her swollen nipple just before a tongue rasped over it with torturous slowness. Samantha couldn't help but arch up against that mouth, silently urging it to take her nipple deeper, to ease the empty ache that had been inside of her for what seemed an eternity. It had been so long since she had felt the touch of a man. Too long. She had almost forgotten that ripe, heavy throb of attraction and desire that could instantly drug her body and mind more thoroughly than any hard liquor.
Countless long, powerful fingers stroked her from neck to toes, as if a hundred different hands were running over her. It was impossible for her to focus on any one area of her body as it was bombarded with so many different sensations all at once. The mouth at her nipple roved upward and pressed a slow, firm kiss against her already panting mouth, testing her response until she moaned into it with rising need. Fingers ran through her hair, sifting the strands over and over again, making her scalp tingle oh so pleasantly. The mouth on hers moved up to press against her hair and she sighed and stretched, the better to savor each and every delicious sensation that was being visited upon her body with such patient carnal knowledge.
Hands forced her thighs apart with immovable strength and she gasped. Immediately countless fingertips moved to spread her vaginal lips and stroked her wet, swollen flesh until her hips were bucking, hungrily seeking more of the sweet caresses. Gentle tugs at her pubic hair had her trembling, and the pulling and pinching of her swollen clit made her cry out shamelessly in her passion. Her nipples were hard as diamonds and straining toward the heavens as yet more hands caressed her there, tugging them mercilessly until they were as plump and rouged as juicy berries.
Sam wanted to open her eyes, to see the phantom lovers that were pleasuring her so thoroughly, but was afraid that in doing so her dream would disappear before it could reach the conclusion that she so longed for. Her mind was still fogged from the consumption of too much alcohol and surely that was why her dream seemed so real, for never had her sober imagination produced such a heady sexual vision or dream. Better to keep her eyes closed for now and savor the fantasy while it lasted, than to tempt fate and wake up too soon.
It was so erotic, the way her body was being fondled and explored by the many hands that roved over her. No part of her body was left untouched. Even the tender flesh between her toes was caressed in turn. When the feel of a hot, wet tongue laved her open and quivering sex, she keened and undulated her hips against it, aching for more. The tongue lingered for a moment, then pulled away, and she groaned her disappointment aloud.
A deep voice chuckled and her body was spun over so that she lay on her stomach. The unexpected move caused her eyes to open in shock, but she may as well have been blind for all she could see. It was black as pitch around her, darker than a foggy, moonless night. Her senses reeled anew until she closed her eyes once more, and rested her forehead on the pillows beneath her.
Hands roved over the flesh of her back and squeezed the globes of her bottom until she was sighing and moaning once again. She dipped her back, raising her hips and presenting herself more fully for the convenience of her sexual tormentor. Again came that deep chuckle and the hands at her rear spread her cheeks wide so that the tongue could lave the puckered moue of her anus.
Rearing up on her elbows, she screeched -- whether from indignation or surprised pleasure she couldn't have said because she felt both emotions with equal strength -- and tried instinctively to move away. The hands that anchored her bottom would have none of that, however, and a gentle slap was administered to reprimand her for the attempted withdrawal. The tongue moved away, but the hands that held her did not falter from their handle on her cheeks. Instead they lifted her higher and yet more hands moved in to caress her exposed labia and anus.
Only her head and arms rested on the couch now, so that her breasts swayed beneath her as she was moved this way or that to better accommodate her phantom lovers' wills. Her entire body, front to back, head to toe, was caressed over and over again until she was weeping for culmination. Her body felt swollen, heavy and moist. It was all she could do to keep from screaming with each pass of those fingers and lips over her body, so sensitive had she become to the tiniest of touches. Never before had she been so completely aware of her own flesh, so receptive to each and every nuance of erotic sensation that was visited upon her.
This was lust. This was passion. This was pure, animalistic need...and god help her she wanted more of it.
Then, just when she thought that surely she would be driven mad with her own need, her every orifice was penetrated by long, strong fingers. Her mouth, her vagina and -- yes -- even her ass was gently stretched by these fingers so that she came with a violent shudder that racked through her body over and over, in rhythm with each tremor of release that washed over and into her. It was enough to make her mind swim even more drunkenly, until she faded out of the dream and entered into a deeper sleep to escape the throes of her exquisite climax.
Just before her senses faded she heard a thoroughly smug and satisfied voice whisper into her ear. "You are worthy of Him, worthy beyond price. You have done well...indeed you will do quite well..."
Copyright © 2007 by Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
