The Mountain Nymph

It should be an easy climb. At 4600 feet of mostly bouldering, you only have 68 feet to go, but you are so tired. You stop, stand upright with your arms above your head ,and gaze at the peak. This is why you came here, to Sierra de la Solidad – Mountain of Solitude. For the quiet, the melding of your body with the rock, the oneness with something far greater than mere earth. As you gaze upward, you are startled to see an ocean wave rising behind Pena Blanca, growing taller and on a crash course with your path, in a place where no ocean exists and no water rises or falls. You close your eyes tight and brace yourself for the assault, but you are not pummeled by the wave. You feel a wet warmth glide over your face, down your chest, slowly bringing moisture to your belly, between your thighs. The wet warmth rises up behind you, pools in the small of your back, settles on your shoulders. You open your eyes, and a woman stands before you, but not a woman. A mountain nymph, ethereal, not quite the shape of a woman. You blink, and she is behind you.

Her hands move through your chest to find your nipples. You can’t feel her hands, you strain your chest outward to feel her hands, you can see them playing with the hair of your chest, see them brush your nipples, which respond without her touch. Her hands float down, tracing the line from your sternum to your crotch. She touches your penis, and you can’t feel it, but you feel a wet warmth, slick, as if she had just herself, run her fingers through her wet pussy, then spread it over you. You can smell her, and feel her wetness on your organ as the skin is pulled back and you become fully erect.

She laughs softly, and it sounds like distant music. She turns you around, takes your hand, and leads you to the summit. You are no longer tired, you don’t even feel your feet touch the ground. You float with her over the last peak and find her sitting on a narrow ledge, beckoning you to join her.

You sit. She runs her hands over your eyes, closing them. Her fingers trail on your lips, and you begin to feel the softest touch. She climbs onto your lap, facing you. She is there, but not there, and you yearn to feel her. She smiles, and positions herself over your right thigh, slowly rubbing back and forth, deeper, until her moist clit is pressing into your thigh. She looks you in the eye as her hips roll forward, backward, and her wetness spreads across your thigh, down into the space between your legs. Her motion is fluid like the water she was, and it finds a slow rhythm, urgent but not in haste.

You reach out to touch her, and she is gone.

Her hands are on your shoulders, pulling you back, gently laying you down on the ledge. You don’t feel the harsh stone, but now you feel her hands. She rolls you on your side, and lies with her chest to your back. You feel her hard nipples against your back as her hands envelope you and hungrily seek your body, your chest, your hips, your penis. Her hands are warm and so wet, and every part of you that she touches begins to tingle. You want to see her, so you turn to face her, side by side, chest to chest. You look into her eyes to know that she is real, but you see through them.

You begin to move together as she presses into you. Her lips seek your lips, her tongue seeks your tongue. Her nipples rub your nipples, and her wetness runs slick on your penis. Her toes intertwine with yours, and you still aren’t close enough to her. You want to feel all of her, but she won’t let you. Yet.

She pulls her tongue from your mouth and lets it glide down, slowly, sucking on your left nipple, then your right. She uses the tip of her tongue to tease, touching, not touching, until you strain toward her. Again she laughs her song and you are wanting to feel more of her, all of her. She glides down your body with her tongue, and finds a dew drop on the tip of your penis. She sucks it, and you feel her tongue, you grow even longer to feel her mouth. She opens herself for you and takes all of you, all of your manliness and pulls it inside her mouth, her throat, it’s so hot and wet and you feel an urgency rise as she slowly pulls and teases and pushed your organ in and out and deep and deeper still.
You think you can’t wait. You think you will come now, hot and full and in need of release. But you open your eyes, and she is gone.

You moan with wanting, you ache with your need. Blink. She is in front of you, her back to your chest, and she is fully a woman now. Firm buttocks, smooth unblemished skin, high breasts, long hair tumbling over the ledge. This is not who she is, but how she feels next to you. She becomes your fantasy as she pushes back toward you and spreads her legs, inviting you to seek her wet warmth, daring you to find it and enter her. You wrap your arms around her hips, and find that she is using her fingers to rub her clit, and the singing sounds come faintly from her lips. She rubs slow, and moans. You let your finger follow hers as she shows you what she needs, where she needs it. With your other hand you pull her belly back, and feel her firm butt press deeper into your groin. You know what she wants, but you want her to say it. You tell her to say it.

“Come inside me” she whispers, and with her invitation your penis seeks that warm space between her legs, and you push inside her from behind while a quick note escapes from her lips. You rest there, not moving, letting her know the feel of you before you drive her and yourself to the brink of no thought.

Slowly, you move deeper inside. And out. She presses her knees together to hold you more tightly and you feel a pulsing throb begin in your penis, inside her, until the pulse matches rhythm and you don’t know where you end and she begins. Faster, and she pushes back to bring you deeper inside, then faster still until you both cry out the final moment before the light explodes in your eyes and your mind goes still as your body goes rigid, and the wave keeps coming, her wave, your wave, until at last the wave crashes into the shore and slowly recedes.

You try to pull her close to you, but she is gone. You hear the soft melody of waves breaking on a distant shore, and receding back to the ocean where they belong. Did you dream this belief, or believe this dream?

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