Adrift in sleep, I awoke with a start. The snow was falling gently outside, and I was nestled cozily in my bed, a goose feather-stuffed blanket covering my body. Still, despite the fire I had built just a few hours earlier, the room was blisteringly cold, my breath visible as I breathed.
A noise is what shook me awake. A voice, I thought. “Is someone there?” I called out to the night. Hearing nothing back, I pulled the blanket higher, over my bosom and under my chin, my teeth chattering to keep me warm.
I closed my eyes, tried to set aside the fears of the creatures of the night, when I heard it again: A voice? No. A whistle.
I dare not speak this time. My eyes wide open, I waited for them to adjust to the darkness. Scanning the room I noticed little, except for my ajar window – the culprit of not only the drop in temperature but also the mysterious sound.
Curious, I thought to myself. I was sure I had closed it. Perhaps the cold air had forced it down?
Quickly, I jumped out of bed – my bare feet cold against the hardwood floor, my flesh stinging from the lack of protection provided by my cotton night gown – ran to the window and pulled it shut, latching it properly this time.
Back in bed, I let me mind wander. Silly girl, I thought, afraid of boogie men in the night. What was there to be afraid of? The night had always been so pleasant to me. The night is where, as a little girl, I’d let my hands drift down, finding pleasure, bringing me to such heights. The night was always about exploration, infatuation and culmination.
Perhaps I should culminate now, I thought, a smile sinking over my face, my cheeks rosy red from the thought. My nipples, already hardened by the night chill, tingled at the thought of exploring my naughty parts. I felt myself dampen as the butterflies fluttered in my belly, in anticipation of what was to come.
“Good girl,” a voice said, from the dark corner of the room.
F/F erotic fairy tale.