The dream began in silence.
We were in a pool — not of water, but of liquid gold. Thick, warm, glowing faintly like fire caught in a trance.
She was with me. Naked. Bound.
Golden ropes coiled around our bodies — not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind us we were trapped... together.
Our skins touched. Every breath created ripples. Every heartbeat sent the ropes humming, vibrating with an unseen force.
"The bond won't break," I said, my voice low, brushing her ear, "until you surrender."
Shirel looked at me — not in fear, but in defiance, as if daring me to try. I smiled.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers.
A shimmer. A soft crackle in the ropes. They loosened — ever so slightly.
Another kiss, deeper.
The ropes pulsed.
When I kissed her neck, they grew warmer. When I touched her chest, they slid an inch lower, like serpents uncoiling.
Her breathing changed. She was melting.
Not because she was forced to — but because the dream was written that way.
By me.
Then it happened — a slow friction, skin against skin, tension building, desire blooming.
Each movement, each touch, each sound between us — it was unlocking something ancient. Sacred.
As our bodies moved together, the golden ropes began to glow.
Not from light.
From heat. From energy. From surrender.
Then i started to suck her nipples , her red lips was cring for more, i sucked her both nipples like a machine .. my hand was on her ass. Then my penis found its way , ot entered her hot pussy smoothely, she closed her eyes and bite her lips . The roops were glowing, the heat was up
I penetrate her more and more until she thought i reached her kidny.
And when she cried out — that cry between pleasure and release — the ropes unraveled completely, vanishing into steam, leaving only skin, and breath, and silence.
I held her.
Not out of affection. But because the dream demanded it.
Because in this world, I was the architect.
And pleasure… was the key.