A Tentacled Dream Come True

There had been three dates. For the first, he'd taken her to a movie, and bought them popcorn to share. She would feel a tingle of pleasure as her fingers made contact with Rafe's when they reached for popcorn at the same time. They'd parted ways, and come together several nights later for mini-golf.

She'd been nervous when he proposed this idea in their texts, given that the last time she'd been to mini-golf, it'd been a shitty experience with her parents and brother. But Rafe had been the total opposite, giving her a couple of tips on holding her club and aiming it, but otherwise letting her be, and making no comment when her ball landed in the pond.

And then for their third date, they'd gone for a walk in the park, buying hotdogs before they started, and then hot chocolate after their walk from the carts at the edge of the park, all the while talking about books.

Not once had he brought up sex, but there was no denying that she wanted him. Rafe seemed almost over-cautious with how he touched her, limiting his contact to mostly his hands, touching her arm or back. She could not deny that she enjoyed the respect she was afforded, but that didn't stop her from wondering what it would be like to be intimate with him. She remembered well the warmth of his palm against her arm, and her nipples hardened when she imagined him sliding his long, graceful fingers along her breasts.

She'd read erotica, although the pulse-pounding, spine-tingling moments that were described in these lurid works were a far cry from the bleak reality she'd experienced with her ex-boyfriend. She looked down at the remnants of the hot chocolate in her cup before she lifted it, taking in the last sweet dregs of the treat that Rafe had so kindly bought for her.

Many other things in her life had become a far cry from what she'd grown up with, as a matter of fact. And all in all, there were few complaints to be had. Her job was far from glamorous, but it was an honest job that ensured her financial independence. She didn't have to share her space if she didn't want to, or worry about how she might be judged for the simplest of decisions. And her current boyfriend certainly was a hell of a lot better than her previous one.

"It's weird, but reading the latest Anne Rice book, I had to admit to myself that the last few were pretty meh. I'm not sure if it's that she's gotten worse or that I'm getting older."

"The way you put it, you sound like you see yourself as a crone," he teased.

She laughed quietly. "Sometimes it seems like another lifetime. Back then. My friend's mom had a bunch of old Anne Rice books, including Interview with A Vampire." The thrill of reading something that she knew was forbidden by her parents certainly added to the rush of reading an Anne Rice novel, and she had felt so mature as she worked her way through the author's oft-florid passages.

Interview with A Vampire was written well before she was born, and through high school she continued sneaking the novels, among others, and had remained loyal to the author, using the school library when she and her friend had read through the old stash. She'd enjoyed a few of the older ones, but had struggled through the newer ones. Things had just gone to hell after Blackwood Farm, but it was her old loyalty and previous memories of enjoyment that kept her slogging through the newer books.

It was a little like saying goodbye to a childhood friend who had grown up to be a kind of a self-absorbed dick. Was she actually making such observations when she was only a few months shy of her twentieth birthday?

"Now it feels like she's just phoning it in, but I guess when you've already made so much money and had movies made from your books, some people just want to slack off. I hope that never happens to me, though." She'd seen what became of people who just gave up on life or their passions.

"The key is finding what makes you happy, and keeping it close," Rafe replied as he tossed his cup into a nearby trash can. She did the same, and he offered her his arm.

"Real subtle," she teased. He smirked at that.

"Speaking of, since we've gotten to know one another quite nicely, and enjoyed some dates, I am wondering how you feel about the idea of coming up to my apartment."

She looked straight ahead, keeping her pace as she weighed the possibilities.

"We can just watch a movie, or play video games, or whatever. There are a few books I'd like to give you, as well."

"Oh, what the hell," Alive finally said as she looked back up at him.

o0o

The building was six blocks away from the park, in a gentrified part of the city. The architecture was from the late 19th or early 20th century, with a classical look that was complemented by carefully-designed updates, such as the windows. He led her to the south side of the duplex and unlocked the door, gesturing to her with a flourish to a wooden staircase that led up to the first floor.

"If madam would so kindly take off her shoes and leave them here," Rafe asked as he closed the door, leaving them in a comfortable foyer that opened to said stairs. Several shoes sat neatly against the wall, under a nook that served as a coat closet. There was a faint but pleasant odor, like perhaps potpourri, although she could see no source for it.

"This is amazing," Alice breathed as she stared at the room that opened from the top of the staircase, revealing what could be either a very upscale bachelor's pad, or a love-nest, depending on how one wanted to look at it. The living area consisted of several pieces of dark-colored furniture and a couple of pale surfaces arranged around an entertainment center that could hardly be called modest.

He smiled at that. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" he asked, gesturing to the couch. "I'll go get these books for you, and if you like, I can make our drinks."

"Sure/" She made her way to the sofa that was positioned in front of the screen, seeing several remotes and controllers on the coffee table. Her palms were sweating, and she quickly wiped them on her lap. There were times when her old life seemed almost a distant memory, but other times when her escape seemed like only yesterday. And now here she was, in the apartment of a man that she was romantically inclined towards. And one who had made his desire for her clear, despite his restraint.

Was it too good to be true? Paranoia, a long-familiar friend, paid an unwelcome visit, and Alice curled her nails against her thighs, trying to get her panic attack under control. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to decide if this was just a stupid ill-timed attack, or if her women's intuition -- such as it was -- was sending her warning signals about Rafe?

"Are you all right?" he asked, and she blinked as she looked up at him, feeling his hand on her shoulder.

"Um... I... yeah," Alice managed as she tried to straighten herself up so she didn't look so vulnerable to a potential predator.

"It seemed like you were having a panic attack. It's okay. I can make you some tea if you'd prefer," he offered. He squeezed her shoulder, and she nodded slowly. He picked up one of the remotes, handing it to her. "This is for watching TV. I have Netflix, Hulu, and a few others. Feel free to surf around."

Looking at the descriptions and posters for various entertainment items, Alice noted that the distraction did help ease her some. She'd watched a couple of trailers before Rafe came to sit next to her, placing a tray down on the table that contained two tall mugs of tea along with a few packets of sweeteners and a container of honey. In each cup floated a fresh slice of lemon, The warmth of the mug against her palms and fingers was another soothing distraction, and she inhaled the lemon-infused steam coming from her tea.

"Drape your legs here," he said, patting his lap. Without thinking, she complied, feeling him wind his arm around her leg as she did so, ensuring that she was snug against him.

He picked a movie, and Alive found herself starting to drift off as she nursed her tea. Occasionally, she'd hear a funny bit of dialogue, but what she was more aware of was the gentle circuit of Rafe's hand, almost like a massage, up and down her leg as they sat there in comfortable silence. There were no drugs in her tea, but she still drifted off into a comfortable doze.

"Sogoth," she breathed as she turned around, looking for him in the grand chamber that they'd been in before. Since her first date with Rafe, she'd had a couple more dreams of Sogoth, but she always woke up before they could get to the really good part.

"Do not fret, my dear," she heard his voice rumble from behind, and she turned to face him.

"I missed you," she admitted. His cheeks tightened, and his tentacles curled in what she now recognized as his version of a smile as he reached out, his fingers caressing her arms as he closed in on her.

"Hearing that warms my heart," came his reply as he wrapped his arms around her. Several tentacles familiarized themselves with an unresistant Alice, weaving through her hair, sliding along her jaw and hooking around her neck and shoulders, finding their way through the arm-holes in her gown to wind around her breasts and sides.

Not wanting to waste any more time in the risk that she might wake up, Alice tried to pull him towards the bed. It was Sogoth's turn to offer no resistance, and obligingly, he allowed her to lightly shove him back onto the blankets as he looked up at her with a good-natured twinkle in his dark eyes. Lowering his hands, he opened his robe, revealing the turgid flesh that sent a fresh thrill through her.

Yet when she tried to close in on him, his tentacles and hands kept her gently restrained, allowing her to draw close to him, but not quite close enough. A whimper of dismay made it out of her chest, and one of his hands reached up to cup her face.

"Fret not, my darling. All of this is yours, just as you are mine. But I do want to savor this moment... or quite a few others." A tentacle guided her hand to his shaft, where she slid her palm up and down the length, feeling it twitch. Her body ached in response, and she wanted for nothing more than this glorious piece of flesh inside of her, sharing the rhythm that was as old as time. Her thumb skimmed across the tip, pressing into it for a second, feeling another twitch. Repetition of this gesture brought her echoes of that same needy twitch, and she rubbed her inner thigh against his lap, wiggling her hips against the tentacles that were binding and caressing her, skirting the searing ache of her flesh.

A tentacle's tip found her clit, and she let out a quiet hiss of approval. His other hand reached to stroke and cup her rear end, fingers curling possessively along the underside of the curve. She whispered his name, more of an entreaty than anything else.

She would go mad if this teasing continued. The last couple of times she'd woken up after her dreams of Sogoth, there had been no fulfillment in said dreams, leaving her horny when she made her reluctant return to the world of waking.

"Take me," she begged, pressing her hand against him, her hips swaying gently under his touch. With her hand, she gave him a firm squeeze. Warm and thick, with just the right amount of pliancy to ensure that it would fit in her comfortably despite its generous size. If she wasn't restrained, she would be able to climb on top of him...

"You don't just want it, you need it," Sogoth whispered. Not a question, but an observation. She nodded. How could he be so patient, as eager as he obviously was, and with her own readiness more than apparent?

"Don't you?" she managed to make out in the haze of frantic arousal. If she didn't have him, she was certain she might simply explode, with the heat that seemed to radiate beyond her core, each stroke of a tentacle or hand igniting her nerve endings, becoming tighter and tighter with a white-hot static of sensation.

"I will always need you," came the reply as his hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing their faces close together. His eyes were like twin pools of ink, their surfaces gleaming in the ambient light from outside. His other hand moved from her rear end to her inner thigh, fingers brushing against the outer lip of her most intimate area...

With a gasp, Alice jerked awake. The movie was still playing, though it seemed to be nearing a climax, with the dashing male lead character making his way towards some kind of event to prevent some kind of disaster. But the more pressing issue was the burn between her legs, and the small jolts of pleasure she got from Rafe's languid rubbing of her outer thigh, her legs still draped over him.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK. She wondered if she was going mad, if Sogoth was nothing more than a figment of her imagination, never to give her true satisfaction. Had she simply imagined the pleasure she'd gained from her first dream of the tentacled being?

"Is something the matter?" Rafe asked as his fingers slid up and down her leg, the gesture more arousing than soothing.

"I... guess I must have dozed off?" she said, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Perfectly all right. It was nice just sitting here and cuddling with you," he said cheerfully. "I can make more tea if you like, or a snack."

I just want4 to fucking cum so bad, Alice thought, well aware of the wet spot in her panties as she shifted her legs off his. Could I quickly rub one out in the bathroom, or would that be beyond rude to my host? She asked herself. She doubted that Miss Manners or any of these other advice columnists had ever covered that sort of thing.

"Where do you think you're going?" he playfully chided, but he made no move to restrain her.

She blushed, trying to stammer out a request for directions to the bathroom.

"It's just off the living room, on the left. But I don't think that's what you need right now." There was a knowing rumble to his tone, and she found herself rooted to the spot by the warm intensity of his gaze. "Self-ministration can bring about quick relief, but it's never quite as satisfying as someone else taking care of your... needs."

She heard his voice amidst the pounding of her own heart. She did desire him and had fantasized about him. But now, to receive an invitation that could not possibly be misinterpreted... it was as if she stood at a precipice. She could turn back and retreat to safety, sticking to the things she'd learned, about being cautious, about not rushing into things, especially since she had bitter experience in regards to this.

On the other hand, Rafe wasn't him. Rafe was a different person, one who'd always treated her with respect and affection. She looked at him, hands trembling slightly. He reached out, taking her hand, guiding her down next to him.

"There are many different things we can do," he said, whispering hotly into her ear, nibbling along her earlobe. "And things that I can do for you. Let me take care of you."

His hand slid along the front of her sweatshirt, nipples hard under the thick fabric. Her core muscles contracted as she felt the weight of his hand pass her navel. Her heart thudded rapidly against her ribcage as he made his way even lower, fingers now cupping her deftly, their tips pressing against her perineum. Instinctively, she pressed against his hand, giving out a soft groan as he ground the heel of his palm against the front of her mound.

Massaging his fingers along the soft planes that sat under her pants and underwear, Rafe leaned in for a kiss, peppering one cheek with his lips before moving down to her parted lips. The over-prudent part of her brain was demanding that she pull away, but oh god, it felt so damn good, and she wrapped an arm around his middle as he sucked on her lower lip. Lifting her hips, she signaled her willingness. He responded by kneading her groin with the pads of his fingers, sliding up and down, her thighs flexing against his hand.

When she felt his other hand at the waistband of her pants, she offered no resistance, lifting her legs after the appropriate cues.

Without preamble, he hooked his arms under her legs and pulled her up so that her lower back was against his chest, and brought his tongue down to her quivering sex.

"Rafe... oh. Oh my God." He seemed to know where her most erogenous spots were, sliding a finger into her as his lips and tongue probed at her inner labia. In her position, beyond her sweatshirt she saw the upper half of his face, eyes half-lidded in enjoyment as he held her to himself with one arm around her waist.

There wasn't much she could do in her position, but she was able to reach up and touch the hand that anchored her so firmly to him, resting her hand on top of it. His fingers flexed in response, and he continued his pleasurable task, flicking across her clit and massaging it after having teased it out of hiding. It wasn't going to take much longer for her to cum, if he kept at her like this, and she groaned softly as the back of her head ground against the couch.

Her other hand found his knee near her side, and he obligingly pressed his foot on the floor, bracing his leg for her. Another finger joined the first that was pumping into her while he sucked on the sensitive nub that had her at his mercy.

"Yes... Rafe... please..." She almost let out a sob, what he was doing felt incredible. He nodded against her as he wiggled his fingers fiercely. Her nerves were ablaze, the heat radiating into her stomach and thighs from his enthusiastic ministrations, and there were fleeting moments when she forgot to breathe. Her inhale stuttered along before she exhaled a short cry.

He continued to love up on her, his tongue and fingers massaging her quivering flesh. Every few moments, she would shudder as a small shock of post-orgasmic bliss tingled through her. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings -- the upholstery of the couch, the soft glow from the lamps, the faint scent of cologne.

Her body was pliant as she felt him carefully lift her legs, lowering her pelvis so that her knees now rested at his sides while her butt rested on his lap. Her cheeks felt very warm, and Alice lifted a hand to one of them before noting the sensation of his hands sliding along her bare stomach and thighs. As her gaze drifted to his face, there was no mistaking the look of satisfaction on his features, as if he had done an excellent job on a goal he'd set for himself, and was taking pride in it.

Well, there was nothing wrong with personal satisfaction in something artfully accomplished, she supposed. The way her body had reacted certainly was ample proof of that. He touched her gently, his fingers sliding along her lightly, and she found herself drifting comfortably back to sobriety. It didn't occur to her to feel self-conscious or pull her underwear back on as she wiggled into a sitting position, his hand coming to her arm to caress it.

She'd had her pleasure, but what about him? Her gaze moved downward, and she was pleased to see the unmistakable shape of an erection sandwiched between his left thigh and the dark material of his slacks., straining against the thinner of the two barriers.

His hand moved to the zipper, and she nodded eagerly. With several movements, he unbuttoned his pants and pushed down the band of his underwear, revealing something she'd seen before, but in worse circumstances.

She blinked and leaned back a bit without thinking as a memory roared through her consciousness, reminding her that the last time she'd seen a penis, there'd been nothing to enjoy about the experience.

"Are you all right?" she heard him say from what seemed like afar as she became aware that her hands were shaking. She swallowed thickly, pushing back the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her, rising from her stomach.