I had been having a reoccuring dream for about a month. I would always wake up cumming. Now that isn't bad but I was in bed alone and I don't remember what I was dreaming about or more like whom. It all started the day that I purchased the portrait that hangs over my fireplace of a beautiful woman. Her skin is the color of chocolate that is rich and creamy, begging to be touch, even licked. Her face is lovely with dark eyes that seem to follow me when I move around the room. I moved it after having in placed in a new frame that while costly was more suited to the painting into my bedroom. She was the last face I saw at night and the first that I saw when I opened my eyes in the morning. She became my Sun and my moon, and then she became my dreams. The dreams that started to haunt me asleep and awake.
Wandering through local yard sales one Saturday, I came upon an old mansion that was having a serious clearing out sale. Everything was for sale, including the house itself. As I wandered from room to room looking at the items that could be purchased and finding some bargains, I came across a backroom where there was a mixed collection of pictures and large decorative pots. I put some of the pots aside to use on my patio, but it was the pictures that caught my attention. As I looked through them I noticed in the far right corner of the room the back of a framed canvas facing the wall. I climbed over stuff until I got to it, once there I picked it up turning the painting around to face me. I held my breath as I stood there looking at the painting. It was a portrait of a young black woman from around the 1900's, she was beautiful and I had to have her... the painting. I looked all over for price sticker, but finding none I went in search of the woman who was handling the sale. Upon showing her the painting she asked me where I had found it, as it was not one that she or any of her helpers when question recognized. I told her where I had found it and she seemed confused, but saying nothing she just looked at the painting and back at me. By now a few people had noticed the painting and some had even asked if it was for sale. I quickly told them that the painting was sold with the woman who was in charge of the sale standing right there. After some haggling we agreed on a price after having convinced her into selling it to me. Sometime later, I was able to take my painting home minus the pots as her price proved to be all the money that I had on me $200.00. Upon arriving home I clean off the mantel piece over my fireplace and put the painting up. That night was when the dreams started.
I had gone to bed early in spite of the next day being Sunday. I sleep naked with the temperature of in New Orleans being what it is it was the only way to sleep. As I laid in my bed going over the day's events, I let my mind drift to the painting hanging above my fireplace. I let the vision of her looking out at me accompanied me into sleep and it was then that it started.
I felt someone lips kissing me down my back, as small hands stroked my bare hips and thighs. I breathe in sharply as I felt teeth light biting the flesh of my ass then my thighs. Moaning out loud I opened my eyes turning to see who was giving me so much pleasure and found no one. I sat up in the bed and looked around the dimly lighted room and finding no one or reason for what I had just experienced. Chalking it to and overactive imagination and libido I quickly went back to sleep this time lying on my back. Sometime near the dawn when most men experience the "morning wood "I had that plus something else. There was the sensation of someone one sucking the head of my cock. I could feel the head of it being massaged with soft lips and then the wet warm flick of the tongue against it. Then there were small hands massaging my balls one at a time then together the combination did the job. I came awake cumming shooting ribbons of white cum up into the air above me. I was cumming so hard that I couldn't see or hear but God was I feeling it!! My toes curled and my body jerks up off the bed as if I was fucking someone as my orgasm ran its way through my body. When I came back to myself, I was breathing heavy and covered in a light sheen of sweat. The covers were on the floor along with my pillows. The bed look like it had been the playground for some serious fucking. I left everything as it was, falling into a deep sleep as I felt a gentle kiss that ended in a moan against my lips.
The next day I just chalked up to be a really good wet dream. I went on about my life ending everyday sitting or standing looking at the painting of the beautiful mulatto woman. I started eating my meals with her and even found myself telling her about my day. I work as lawyer for the District Attorney's Office for The City of New Orleans. I decided that the frame of the painting needed replacing so I started looking around for shops that did such things. I found one after a week search not far from the Court house where I worked. After work one day I took the portrait by for an appraisal on what needed to be done. I had called a head and spoke to the shop manager a Mr. Michaels, who said he would be there himself to receive me. I had covered the portrait with a large bath towel to protect it and as strange as it may sound I had gotten very protective of my little one.
As I walked into the shop I saw a man stand there all alone behind a large counter with a variety of frames lying about. He was of middle age, slightly bald, slender in built and wear a pair of wire framed glasses. He seemed to be adding to them as I approached him. I had conveyed to him the size of the portrait which was a few inches smaller than the standard size of a portrait. I knew nothing about the woman in the portrait and there was no artist signature to look up so I was also hoping that he might be able to tell me something about her. As I laid the portrait down on the counter in area not covered by frames and l unveiled her for him. The man looked at the painting and then looked back at me, then move to examine the painting closer.
"Where did you buy this portrait," he asked still looking at the painting now more carefully then he had done for.
"I purchased it an everything-must-go-sale down in the Garden District, why?," I asked now getting a bit irritated that he was handling my La Petite even though he was doing it in a professional manner.
"Do you know who this is?" He asked letting his blue eyes settle on my face for a second before going back to look at the painting.
"This lovely young woman is, Naomi," he said answering his own question not waiting for me to answer him. I believe that you are the owner of the only likeness of her of in existence. The shop manager said as he turned back to look at me. You don't know her history do you?"
"No, I am native or New Orleans and until the day I purchased this portrait I have never seen a woman like her." I said looking down at her lovely face.
"Well if you got time I will tell you her history... it is a sad and tragic one as it was for any of those poor souls born into slavery and even after. Naomi lived after the end of slavery but it was no better as you know. She was tied to the Bonuets through a history of slavery and was raised in their house to be a servant." He said as he continued to gaze at the painting.
"Yes, at a very young age she became the mistress to the eldest son of the family. That was acceptable as long as she remembered her place, but well let say she didn't and he left her to die of a broken heart. He didn't fare much better and died a year later some say of the same thing. It seemed he was force to give her up and he lived every day after regretting it. I believe I have a portrait around here somewhere of him. His name was Dominquez Marcus Bonuet and he was about 30 years old when he died," the shop owner said as he moved from one shelves of paintings to another.
Then it came to him that the portrait he was looking for was in the storage room where paintings were waiting to be claimed after the work was done. He excused himself and went to the storage room, once there he found the portrait with relative ease. Mr. Michaels glanced at it briefly and then stopped dead in his tracks and he paled in color. Looking at the portrait again, now holding it close to the lights he knew that his eyes didn't deceive him. He slowly walked out to the front of the store knowing what a waited him and was glad to find it so, the store was empty. The portrait of Naomi and the man were gone.
I left the shop not waiting for the shop owner to return. I don't know why but I knew that I had to leave and the sooner the better. I wrapped my La Petite up and made my get away.
Once back at home, I did not put her back on the mantel piece above the fireplace but on a wall in my bedroom. That night I remembered who and what happened clearly because I was awake when she came to me as she had all the night before but in my dreams.
"Cher' do you remember your "Petite Noire Ange"?" She asked as she glides toward me on silent feet. Naked with her long thick crinkly hair hanging free like a black cloud around her shapely form, covered in skin the color or honey, so soft and smooth to the touch,,,
The Past ...............
"Yes" Ma Petite Noire Ange", Naomi I remember you!" I said as it all came back to me now......I remembered us.
I picked her naked body up in my arms and I held her tight. I had promise to never let her go when she had agreed to become mine. Naomi had done the same knowing what such agreement would cause her, but she didn't care of being banned by her family and friends. She loved me as I loved her and that was enough.....
I kissed Naomi's lips, drinking in their sweetness as my hand stroked the silky hair covering her sex. Sliding fingers between the lips I sought and found the pearl that I knew was there. As Naomi arch into my hand I stirred the fires of desire in her, for tonight I would take her completely. Giving her just a taste of what was to come; Naomi came with her essences flowing out from between her legs like some heady fragrant nectar that I couldn't wait to taste. Sticking to fingers in my mouth I suck them clean as I savored her sweetness. Then kissing her lips, I let her taster herself from my mouth causing the kiss to deepen. She released me from the kiss only to attach her sweet mouth to my nipple where she lavishes her attention with pleasure. Naomi had also found her way to my manhood and was stroking it with such innocence that I put my hands over hers giving pressure and guidance as showed her how to please me." Ma Petite Noir Ange" is a fast learner; in time she had me on my back stroking my cock with such fervor in the pleasure that I let her have her way for the moment. It gave me time for my eyes to enjoy the view of her, as the light from the moon and candles dance over her dark skin. She was" Ma Petite Noir Ange" and as she suck the head of my cock between her full soft lips I knew that even in death I could not give her up. Pulling her from her oral worship of my cock I pulled her up my chest until she pussy was within inches of my mouth. The soft curly black curls of her pussy glisten with the juice that was flowing from her. It musty heady scent drew me near and my tongue went in first. Between the lips my tongue danced in and out teasing her nub until she came screaming my name as she rode my face and the juice from her sweet musty fruit ran in and over my lip and down my face. She slid off falling to the side still shaking from her cumming.
The heat between my legs was rising to an almost unbearable level and I needed to bury myself in Naomi's body. I quickly pulled back to slide between her legs with her still in the throes of her orgasm. Glassy eyed and her mouth open moaning loudly I turned it into a scream sliding my cock head to Naomi in one forward move. I could feel the heat of what was to come when I said her name aloud enough for her to hear me in her daze state. Her eyes flew wide open as she focused on me, spreading her legs wider to receive me; I gave myself up to the fire that was that was between us. Knowing that it would consume us both and knowing that there was nothing that we could do to stop it ....
I awoke screaming her name as I shot streams of white cum up into the air above me only to have it land back on my body and in my mouth. I could seem to stop from cumming and it wasn't my hands that were stroking me. It was as if an invisible sheath of warm, wet and tight skin that was milking the cum out of me. My body jerked and shook as if it was cumming a part at the joints. I had never cum like that before in my life and I wondered if I would survive it. I must have fallen into a deep sleep for when I awoke it was mid-morning. In a panic I called my job only to find out that I had called earlier and told them that was sick and wouldn't be in. I end the call confused and a little scared as I didn't remember making the call. Rolling weak and unsteady from the bed I made it to the bathroom and into the shower. Letting the warm water wash over me I started to remember my dream. Then it hit me. I got out of the shower, ran naked and dripping wet back into my bedroom. I stood in front of the painting and felt myself go pale and become a little weak in the knees. The painting was gone!
It took me two weeks to get up the courage to go back to the framer shop and talk to the store owner.
To be honest I was scared shitless. I had been haunted for a month by the ghost of a woman who had been dead for over 200 years. We had made love to the point that it had pushed me beyond anything that I had experienced before in my life. Then there was also the love that I felt for her and the she felt for me. My little dark angel, oh how I missed her!!
The day that I walked in to the shop the owner Mr. Michael was standing behind the counter, talking to a customer. I waited until he was finished to approach the counter. We looked at each other saying nothing. I knew that he had guessed what was going on and he did the only thing he could do under the circumstances, he slid a piece of paper with an address on it across the counter to me.
It was bill of sales for services render on a painting... a portrait, I looked at him and smiled. I knew the address and drove there breaking a few speed limits along the way. The police seem to be missing that day as I drove back to where it all started the Bonuet Mansion. Parking my car downs the street from it and I walked the rest of the way. It gave time for me anticipation to reduce to a level that wouldn't have me running up and into the house. Once I got there I saw that the renovations had been started. The place was in an organize disarray, but it didn't matter as I knew where I was going. I arrived in the room where I had found the portrait of Naomi and it was now empty except for the paint of a man hanging on the far wall where I had found Naomi's. I closed my eyes and opened them again to look at the portrait on the wall. The face of the man I knew as well as my own.....
"You look just like him," a voice said to me from the shadows of the room.
I was so busy in my intent that I hadn't notice that the daylight was slowly disappearing. She stepped out of the shadows from the 1800's to the 21 century Naomi... this Naomi was wearing a pair of jeans and dark tee shirt. Her dark hair was still long and flowing down her back. She looked at me with eyes that glisten from unshed tears. I closed my own eyes and opened them again as I looked down into my little dark angel's face. It would be later that she would tell me about how she found the painting of Dominquez Marcus Bonuet in the same room that I had found Naomi's. How she had taken it home to be haunted by him and how she had come to love him. Yes we would talk about it all later, but for now, we just wanted to hold each other tight and not let go.
Naomi and I had found each other again and this time our love would have chances.
Oh by the way I am sorry, I had forgotten to introduce myself, and my name is Dominquez Marcus Bonuet.