Dream Weaver

It was Mardi Gras, noise of jubilation ringing in his ears as celebrants danced and writhed their way down the street. Gil was there, tailing someone wearing a dark cloak, he couldn’t see the person’s face, though by the narrowness of the shoulders, he got the impression it was a woman.

“Gil!” Abel called out, trying to work his way closer to the old man. Somewhere off to his left, fireworks went off, drawing his attention.

When he looked back, Gil was gone. There was a narrow path between two buildings. Against the flow of the sea of people, he barged through them, fighting to get to the opening of the dark narrow alley.

Stepping into the alley, the path beyond swallowed up by the tenebrous shadows betwixt the buildings. Fumbling with his phone to bring up the flashlight app, he didn’t see her emerge from the darkness until she was on him, same mask, same amazing verdant eyes, except now she was taller than him, pushing him back against the wall and holding him there as she tilted her head to the side and kissed him fiercely on the mouth, her tongue pushing inside his mouth, a sound of pleasure emanating from her throat. He tried to push her back, but she was too strong, her lips expanding, or maybe he was shrinking, either way, now her lips covered the entirely of his face, and it felt like she was sucking the air out of his lungs. Spots danced before his eyes. Releasing him, he dropped to his hands and knees, gasping as she vanished into the night.

Coughing and sputtering, he leaned back on his heels, wiping the saliva from his face. Picking up his phone from the ground, he stood up and found the flashlight. Flicking it on, he shone it into the fuliginous darkness.

The woman’s taste still strong in his mouth, “Gil?” he called out, shuffling deeper into the sooty blackness, the feeble light swallowed up only a few feet in front of him.

“Abel, is that you?” came the response from somewhere indistinct in the darkened distance.

“Here,” Abel replied, trying to move quicker toward the sound of his partner’s voice.

“I can hear you, but I can’t see you,” Gil said, voice sounding closer now.

“I’m right here, you’re close partner, keep talking,” Abel encouraged.

They was something ahead in the inky shroud, tall rising up. It was the body of an enormous nude woman, on her knees, legs parted, like some mammoth polished statue. There was something small and pale on the ground beneath her genitals. It was Gil rising to his feet, corpulent flesh naked. Abel stopped in his tracks. He could not see the face of the gargantuan woman, but her sculpted body was magnificent, perfect breasts each more than twice his height and crowned with small wine stained nipples, narrow waist, her pudenda smooth and free of hair. Large immense hands rested on her thighs, fingers ending in long nails painted deep ruby.

Broad smile splitting his jowly face, “I see you,” Gil said exuberantly, stumbling forward a handful of steps, seeming unaware of the unbelievably quiet gigantic woman looming directly above him.

Suddenly the woman inclined forward, her face coming into view, loose strands of long ebon hair like darkness itself coalescing around her head and spilling over her shoulders and onto her breasts, eyes focused on the tiny thing beneath her, lips the color of blood pulled back into a smile. Achingly beautiful, she was terrible at the same time and Abel felt afraid.

Motivated by fear for his partner, “Run!” he yelled, trying to coax some additional speed out of the rotund man.

Shuffling forward, “I’m coming,” Gil wheezed, his voice weak and breathless as he tried to jog.

Abel shook his head, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, like watching a car accident just before it happens.

The woman leaned her body over top of Gil, lifting her hands off her legs and placing them wide apart on the ground, her enormous exquisite breasts, still firm but shifting pendulously as she continued moving forward, to track Gil’s movements.

“Come on Gil, run!” Abel hollered, eyes moving from his partner to the descending head of the woman. Her posture appeared like she was doing one of the cheater pushups, knees on the ground as her upper body came down above him, her plump lips parting and the tip of her tongue tracing a path over the bottom one.

The portly man pulled up, hands on his side as he struggled for air.

“Gil you need to move like right now!” Abel screamed, the woman’s mouth opening wide above Gil as her face continued to descend.

Shaking his head, Gil waved a hand, “Give me a minute for crying out loud,” he said between pants, oblivious to what was happening.

“Gil!” shrieked Abel at the tops of his lungs, eyes round and full of panic as the woman’s enormous face came down over Gilbert, mouth closing around the older man’s thick mid body. “Gil!” he yelled again.

He could see Gil’s legs still protruding from between her dark lips, flailing away as she closed her eyes and reared back, hands coming up off the ground and caressing her enormous breasts, thumbs moving over hardened nipples.

Taking a tentative step forward, “Gil!” repeated Abel, voice filled with alarm.

He heard a guttural moan of pleasure coming from the woman as she touched herself, left hand leaving her breast, crossing over her taut stomach and down between her thighs seeking out the dewy wetness there, head swaying from side to side. Lifting her chin, he watched Gil’s legs vanish as she sucked his body entirely into her mouth. Then she swallowed, a slight movement in her throat as her lips parted and she gasped in pleasure, fingers increasing in speed as they played in gentle circles over her swollen pussy.

Letting out a sharp cry, she suddenly bucked forward, rising up onto her knees, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Unable to look away from the massive woman in the throes of release, Abel swallowed hard.

Groaning, she collapsed back on her heels, bringing her slick wet hand to her lips and sucking at her glistening fingers.

Opening gigantic her eyes, they settled on Abel, as if now for the first time seeing him, a smile playing on her beautiful face. Leaning forward, she settled onto all fours, moving toward him.

Turning away, he tried to run, but it was too late, he felt the moist skin of her left hand come down over him, the scent of her climax clinging to her digits as she bore him to the ground.

Jolting awake, Abel jerked backward in his bed, body slick with perspiration and breathing heavily, eyes frantically dancing about the darkness of his room, the sensation in his body akin to a dream of falling and awakening a split second before impact.

Still lying on his back, he chuckled, bringing his arm over his head, “What kind of fucked up dream was that?” he asked rhetorically.