It’s been a hard day, and you take a walk in the woods to get some peace and solitude. It’s a bit cold, you feel the chill breeze on your face and in your hair, but you’re dressed for the weather and the woods welcome you with serenity and you’re warm inside your winter jacket.
You find a comfortable place to sit with your back against an old tree. You close your eyes and rest for a while, listening to the sound of the forest. You doze, you dream. The worries of the day fade away as you feel the comforting bark against your back.
You listen to the gentle breeze blowing through the forest, rustling leaves and branches. As you sit you feel the the wind change. No longer is it just a breeze; there’s a gentle rhythm to it. You open your eyes and off in the distance you see a figure dancing.
Soundless, with nothing but the breeze to guide him, the figure dances. You watch him dance through your half-opened eyes, still not sure if you’re awake or dreaming. He dances closer to you and then he’s in front of you.
He’s tall and thin, with long blond hair. He reaches out to you. His fingertips brush your hair and cheeks. He wears no gloves and his fingers are warm. He takes your hands and you stand and dance. Soundlessly, to just the music of the trees, you dance. You feel the warmth of his hands through your winter jacket. You feel warm and safe in his embrace.
He stops dancing and slowly kneels down. You kneel with him. He’s facing you to your left. His left hand cups the back of your head; his right traces a path from your hair across your cheek and down to your nipple. You feel the heat of his touch through your jacket; his fingertips brush your nipple and continue down across your belly. The heat of his touch is unmistakable.
You feel his touch past your waist, slide down the outside of your jeans. You’re already wet and excited and you feel his hot touch on your pussy. He traces the folds of your most sensitive places.
Your hands reach out and unbutton his pants, releasing his manhood. It stands erect under your fingers. You hear him moan ever so gently, the first sound you hear him made.
You peel back the foreskin exposing his pink tip. His left hand pulls your head down. You run your tongue around the tip, up the back, through the fold where the head meets the foreskin. You feel him tense up; the heat of his right hand on your crotch increases.
You take him in your mouth. His size and heat surprise you. His touch finds your clit and massages it ever so slowly. You moan around his penis.
He pulls you down onto him, keeping the same rhythm as the wind, as your dance. You slide his shaft deeper and deeper into your mouth as his touch strokes your clit.
He pulls you all the way down; you struggle a bit to slide his shaft down your throat but then your face is pressed against his belly as his hot touch on your clit gets more intense.
He pulls you down over and over; the pressure of his fingers on the back of your head and the pressure of his fingers on your clit are now following the rhythm of the wind.
His touch drives you over the edge and as your body explodes you feel and taste his come in your mouth. He clutches you hard, and a moan, only the second sound you hear him made, escapes his lips.
And then you hear the wind blow through the trees, and he’s gone. You’re warm and happy and relaxed – and not sure if you dreamed this.