Chapter one
The woman realized she was awake. She could feel the soft bed she was curled into and the warm comforter that covered her. She wondered how long she had been sleeping; months, years, eons? She did not know why she had been aroused; she only knew that she was awake and she savored the sensation. She moved her legs slowly, feeling the soft sheets against her skin.
After some unmeasured time, she stretched her arms down along her body, gently shifting from side to side and rolling her shoulders. How glorious it felt to move, to let her muscles elongate and then linger in the motion. Her fingers began to wiggle like small tentacles, tasting the soft, warm skin of her thighs. She spent time stroking her legs, amazed at the smoothness beneath her fingers. There had been times she had awakened covered in dust or sand, lying on a hard floor or ground. But this time she felt her first body, the one she loved, smooth in places, rounded and full in others. She felt her lips lift into a smile as she caressed herself. She knew that her senses would come back slowly, starting with the sense of touch. The others would follow as life continued to flow through her body.
Time passed, and she opened her eyes, seeing the sparkling white walls around her. Sometimes she awakened in the wild desert, or in a lovely, elaborate tent made of golden wood and curtains. But this nest of stone was her favorite place to awaken, a place she would call home if she could choose one. Perhaps it is her home, at least for now. The walls glittered and sparkled, and she remembered the name of the stone. Limestone, white and shimmery, full of other sparking minerals, giving the white walls rainbow hues of red, green and blue. The colors filled her eyes, and again she smiled.
Eventually she pushed herself up and, moving her legs slowly, she sat on the edge of the bed. She saw the small table next to her that held a pitcher of water and a clear glass. She realized she was thirsty and carefully poured some of the water into the glass and sipped some of the water. It was cold and tasted like honey, silky and sweet. She gazed around the room, remembering why she loved it so much. A polished wooden table gleamed in the center of the room, as it was proud to hold two unlit candles, a pitcher of wine with a matching goblet, and a circular loaf of bread. Someone had prepared her space with love.
Sounds intriguing, who is this woman and how does she find herself in this place and of course what is this place.