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Smoke and Mirrors

"Sometimes an escape from reality brings reality into perspective."

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2.7k words 2.7k words
Rachel sighed, stretching out her arms to full length, reveling in the feel of the warm sun on her skin. She sat deep in thought along the shoreline of Lake O’ the Pines, near her grandparent’s house in East Texas. Her thoughts wandered. She was so fortunate to still have her grandparents, she thought. Already twenty four, sometimes Rachel still liked to come visit them as she had as a child. A getaway to write and to think was just what the doctor ordered.

It was mid May and Rachel had met all her deadlines as an editor up in the greater Detroit area. She didn’t like living there; it was a depressing scene. Even the looks on people’s faces added to the pall of drudgery that seemed to fall like a curtain over the city itself. However, the job was decent pay, even if it was high intensity at times. Using her knowledge from a previous job as co-editor of a local newspaper in the Dallas area, Rachel impressed the founder of a movement in inner city Detroit, who was dead set on reviving the city itself through artistic endeavors. Wes liked Rachel, and immediately after the interview he let her know she had a job if she wanted it.

Perusing over endless paperwork for filing with the city, essays asking for assistance with the project, letters to patrons, not to mention some legal documentation for government permits was taxing. Rachel took the job, so she could set her own hours and not have to be under someone else’s thumb all the time like she was at the newspaper. Wes never complained about her edits, although she would get an occasional middle finger (all in good humor) or a wrinkled nose on occasion if she had to make too many changes to his writing. The man was smart, but sometimes she got irritated when he hurried through his work so fast that he didn’t stop and reread.

‘All right girl, think, think,’ Rachel mused to herself. The morning had gone by so quickly, even though she had been up for hours. One of her favorite things to do was go out early with her grandfather, Papa, and check the trot-lines. He had three of them going, and sometimes what was on the line was a surprise to them both. Rachel had seen large garfish (ugly creatures, she thought), turtles, and even the occasional water moccasin get hooked on the line. Those huge snakes scared her the most. She could see their long slithering bodies, heavy in the water, pulling at the line long before he got to them. Papa was always so patient, never flinching as he cut the line near their gaping cottony mouths. A shudder ran through Rachel’s body. If she kept thinking about snakes, she would never get to her writing.

Think sexy, romantic thoughts… Rachel loved to write erotica in her spare time. To her, it was a welcome escape from reality. Perhaps someday, she would find a man that wanted to share in the stories with her. She needed a hopeless romantic, but someone who also had a wild side too. In Rachel’s mind, this was a heady mixture, but one she felt she might never find.

Therefore, it left her bereft of a boyfriend in any sort of long term relationship. She always wanted more.

She sat, feeling sorry for herself, and began to feel her eyelids getting heavier. ‘Oh man, I can’t fall asleep now,’ she moaned to herself. She was experiencing writer’s block on a story starter. Random ideas ran through her mind, touches, caresses, nails, lips touching, molding together, bodies so closely entwined one might not be able to tell where one person ended and the other began. As that time always does before one falls asleep, swirls of thought fused together, roaming in and out of her consciousness; eyelids became heavier…heavier…

Rachel smelled smoke, smoke mixed with something else, something tainted and strong. 'Where was she,' she thought furiously. Her feet felt something soft beneath her; what a strange place. As her eyes adjusted to the unusual lighting, Rachel looked down at her attire. How on earth…she had on a Halloween costume. She was dressed as Dorothy. A rather sexy Dorothy, she thought, looking down at the short dress and stockings; the high heels of the red shoes. Her hair too, she felt the soft curls on either side of her head from the two ponytails, and the blue ribbons. ‘This is one of the weirdest places I think I’ve ever been.’ Rachel’s mind continued to try and filter what she was taking in, but it was difficult as there was no reference point to connect with. Suddenly, she heard a deep, masculine voice that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Rachel, you are in my realm now, and you are mine.” The words had an instant and deep effect on her, causing both fear and a strange sort of draw at the same time. She began to run, run along the plush padding beneath her. As she began to move more quickly, she figured out she must be in a haunted house of sorts. 'How odd that there seems to be no one her except me,' she thought. And…him. Whoever “him” was, her mind reacted, a chill running down her spine.

Rachel went through three larger rooms. The first one housed a mechanical werewolf, one that roared and moved its arms. So real and intense it looked that Rachel had to keep telling herself it was just a machine, just a machine. Fog filtered around her, in every room, keeping the various scenes almost surreal in appearance. The next room contained rats. Lots and lots of rats! Rachel hated rats. They ran all around, there must have been hundreds of them. After watching them a bit, she realized they were in mazes beneath a glass floor. Rachel ran over them, and as she ran the floor lit up everywhere she placed her foot. So creepy, and disturbing as hell. Whoever designed this place had to have some sort of mental disorder.

The third, and what would turn out to be the final room Rachel visited that night, was a hall of mirrors. A most confusing place, for everywhere she turned she saw soft strobe lights hitting various mirrored surfaces, causing crazy shapes and forms to appear to come and go before her eyes. Rachel saw herself reflected tens, hundreds of times. The voice broke the eerie, fog-filled silence, “I see you, and soon I will feel you.”

A flood of fear, combined with a very odd other feeling, balled into her very center. She realized she could no longer run, since she would hit glass if she tried. Cautiously, she moved about her, going from reality to the looking glass, backing up, and trying again. The fog mixed with the various colors emanating from the strobe lights caused her to become slightly dizzy and confused. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re right, you aren’t, Miss Dorothy,” said the voice from…behind her? She shifted uneasily, trying to look around. She tried to turn around, but the voice told her “no,” in a hushed tone.

“I just want to admire the view.” Rachel blushed, thinking of the stockings and short dress she was wearing. The fingers trailed up her body, finally resting on her neck, grabbing it lightly, but with just enough force that she knew whoever this person was, he had strength. The thought caused her to shiver.

He came closer to her, she could feel the proximity of his body behind her, a strong presence about it even though he had not yet touched her, except with his fingers. Hot breath tickled her neck, causing her to become entirely on edge, yet strangely aroused at the same time. His mouth followed the breath, and suddenly he was kissing her hard on the neck, sucking her skin, biting softly.

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She inhaled quickly, reacting to his sudden movements, desire coursing through her veins like a flood. What was this reaction, to someone she didn't even know? 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, you have no idea. I decided this would be the night, my night, to have you all to myself. No one else comes here tonight, and no one gets out.” As those words sunk in, Rachel felt fear, yes the fear was still there, but even more present now was desire, longing. A very strange mixture. She felt faint from the flood of emotions this man was causing within her. Slowly, he turned her to face him, and in the dim, dancing lights of the strobes, it was quite the effect.

Standing before her was a well toned young man, dressed as a wolf of sorts, with markings on his face and tight fitting clothing that completely resembled the animal. His eyes were aglow, a furnace it seemed, befitting his character and adding to its intense effect. Rachel seemed to not be able to breathe as she looked at him. He came closer, pulling her face toward his, and recognition dawned. “Randy?” she said, in wonderment. “Is that you?”

“Yes Dorothy, and you are now in the Land of Oz, welcome to the Emerald City,” and with that, Randy kissed her, full on the lips, his passion and intensity overwhelming all her senses, causing Rachel to back up. Randy pressed her into the mirror behind her, his body molding itself to hers, his hands wandering, seeming to have a mind of their own. A moan escaped her lips, as she tried to take in what was happening, and the fire that seemed to be racing through her body, causing her blood to boil. All fear ebbed away, the tide of electricity causing it to fade into nothingness.

Everywhere she looked, she could see them reflected in the mirrors, the crazy strobes illuminating their bodies pressed together. She could see his broad shoulders, and the ‘v’ of his back where it connected to his hips below. Sexy, a very sexy image, her mind registered. His mouth was on hers, then her neck, her collarbone, moving along her chest, just above her breasts, tongue and breath and lips, driving her to the brink of insanity. Her nails clutched at his head, pulling him to her almost subconsciously, moans and soft breaths escaping her, for words became entirely elusive.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment, when I could have you entirely to myself, when you wouldn’t be so busy, surrounded by work and business and the distractions of the real world. I want it all Rachel; your body, your heart, your mind. I want to immerse myself in you tonight, lose myself completely, lost in your very essence.” The words came out of his mouth passionately, fervently, and he seemed to lose self control at that point, pulling her to him, crushing her body to his. She felt her clothing coming off, she didn’t recollect how, then mouth on skin, tongue tasting her everywhere, her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and down, down….

At some point she was on the soft padding, the strange stuff that made up the floor of this place, and he was on top of her, his hands holding her in place. Randy knew what he wanted, and he would not let her move as his mouth drifted along her thighs, taking in her scent; he could hardly withstand it he became so excited. Ushering in a bit of control from somewhere, he continued his explorations, his tongue moving to her innermost parts, tasting, moaning, sucking.

Rachel tried to move, squirming from his touch, but he held her a little tighter, his hands gripping her sides. Relentlessly, his tongue moved within her, in and out, in and out, causing her to whimper and breathe faster. Her reactions only got Randy more and more turned on, and his tongue went crazy, licking her and sucking hard on her clit, and he was rewarded as she climaxed hard, her legs shaking and squeezing his head, her hands pulling on his thick hair. Randy continued to lick her, slowly, tasting her essence, and reveling in her body’s reaction to him. She tasted so good.

Rachel floated in oblivion, her mind gone, replaced by some animalistic state of pure desire, beyond reason, beyond logic. She simply wanted. Randy seemed to sense this yearning radiating from her, and it caused him to want her even more, painfully so. Rachel felt him move up her body, tasting her skin as he did so, sucking on her breasts and teasing her until he could no longer stand it either. As he lowered himself fully to her body, he let out a moan, full of heat and desire. His eyes looked into hers and she melted, consumed with pure longing for this gorgeous man.

Randy began to enter her, slowly at first; Rachel was tight but very wet from his recent actions. “Oh, Rachel, you feel so amazing, so incredibly amazing, I wish I could stay inside you forever.” Rachel moved in sync with his every thrust, her body seeming to form itself to his in the intricate, beautiful dance of lovers. His lips found hers once more, and they were fused in every way possible, the closest two people can be, tongues danced and toyed with one another, driving them further and further toward the brink.

Time seemed to stop, and there was nothing but Rachel and Randy, skin upon skin, nails raking along his back, moans, moving faster and faster with one another, until they both hit the brink at the same time, lost in the final crescendo of the climaxing wave, falling in space toward the ocean of oblivion.

In the afterglow, basking in the warmth of each other, eyes upon eyes, Randy played with her hair, kissing her neck with soft nuzzles and nips. “I suppose now would be a good time to tell you how much I like you, Rachel,” Randy smiled, touching her face. “I wanted you to have a night you would never forget. So welcome to the Land of Oz, Dorothy!” Rachel laughed, and it echoed slightly through the large chamber.

“Can I stay in Oz with you forever Randy?”

“You can Dorothy, but first you have to find me. See, you have to go back, and write this story, and never forget to search for me in the real world. Until then, all of this is just smoke and mirrors, smoke and mirrors,” With those words, the fog began to get thicker, and thicker, and Rachel felt herself fading away, going somewhere else...what about the clicking of the red shoes, she thought hazily…click…click…click.

Rachel awoke with a start, taking in her surroundings. There she was, still by the lake, a skier coming close to shore giving her a slight shower from the sprays of water. She shivered, more so from the powerful dream than the water itself. Her body still tingled, as if she had been through the experience in the real world instead of Oz. ‘So much for writer’s block,’ she thought. ‘Dorothy, you have a story now.’ When she got back to Detroit, she would have to pay a little more attention to Randy, Wes’s right hand man. Rachel had admired him from afar, he was a little older than she was, at twenty eight. He was very handsome, with rugged chisled features that did funny things to her if she looked at him too long. A little part of her wondered if the end of her dream might be right, and he wanted her to pay attention. She smiled at the thought, warmth flooding her body. Rachel picked up her computer, and began to write. A few minutes later, her phone vibrated. It was a text. From Randy.

This story is in loving memory of my grandparents, and the lake house they had, which gave me such fond and amazing memories. They put a lot of love into my life. Sadly, they died when I was twenty four, which is why the character in this story is that same age.

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Written by MsSensuality
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