The Woeful Tale of an npc 8 The Countess I

It was one of those strange dreams, begining with a benign, pleasurable aura of hazy positivity that seem to caress her soul and stroke her deepest and warmest parts while relating to nothing at all.

She sensed that she was smiling in her sleep.

Then the background changed, from a gauze-draped room with wind-blown curtains and flickering candles to a hazy shadow hollow in the woods, cold and damp and sepia tinged. The dream was almost like jumping from one painting to another. Even while sleeping, Niwlat Evolem Dnaetah thought she was aware of the change, felt her muscle tighten and her skin tremble as if the weather had suddenly turned freezing. The darkness slid over the woods like a curtain of night, and as she shivered she heard a sound of the dark, the whisper squeezing through the tree trunks, which turn charred with black and glowing ember as she looked at them. There was rustling in the woods, among the foilage of leaves and bushes. Niwlat Evolem Dnaetah caught the heavy scent of sweat and semen and something else, a strange smell of rot that somehow intertwined wth a familiar smell of.....she couldn't quite remember what, but she knew that she was intimately acquainted with it, so very long ago.

Niwlat Evolem Dnaetah's shivering intensified, and she caught herself to wonder whether it was her who is sleeping is shivering or her dream self, or if perhaps neither are sivering. The noise in the woods grew louder, closer and more menacing. She thought back to the safe place, white with its gauze and lighting, wishing she could return there, where she knew she would not be afraid. Instead the darkness surrounding her become more and more vivid, and whatever made the noise growled---at first softly, but then growing in volume and anger. Rage, Rage for life.

Who or What was it?

Then she had shaken herself awake.

The dream turned nightmare left her reluctantly and she pulled the covers against the sudden chill. Why did she have these strange dream so many times? Why was every dream similiar to one another? What did does this mean? Anything?

The question zipped through her mind as they had a dozen of times before, but in replaying them she found herself relaxing her clenched muscles. Slowly, her limbs warmed up and the chill began to dissipate.

In the chill of the night, in the warm cover of the her bed, she remember of a time long past. She remember of her lover. They had been together for a long time, and in those days it would seem as though they will always continue to be together so. Niwlat Ibeb was her name back in those days, she was a daughter of a noble. Sadly her parent passed away, but under the protection of her family butler, she was well educated and she had a friend. She remember the shimmering form of her lover, Natit Hna, a young man who would sometimes come to her home and taking her out from the grieving. She had once suffered an injury by a stray horse, she remember the tenderness Natit had exhibited as he treated her from the terrible injury that was inflicted on her. From that point on, what once was a friendship become something more. Her status as a noble lady hadn't kept her and him from exploring each other's bodies every chance they had though. They have many night of intense lovemaking.

Niwlat smiled, thinking of their bond. Childhood friend who had suddenly become lovers, already more comforting with each other's company, they had enjoyed discovering the whole new aspect of thier relationship.

Niwlat felt her insides melting at the thought of Natit's hands on her. Nipples tingling under his tongue, gentle nips driving her near madness. She was wet and ready and he was there. Like a dying man in the desert, down on his knees, burying his face into the lush fragrant bower; moused trembling lips over the contours of her flower and slake on the sweet, aromatic nectar spilling from the crevice.

As Niwlat look out the window, the sky is still dark. She touched herself feeling naughty and not caring, knowing she still have times before the morning light.

Fingers caressing her most intimate spots, Niwlat allowed herself to imagine they were Natit's, and then she was moving faster, deeper, more pointedly focusing on that one spot where he would have placed his warm and loving tongue...

Chapter end