Dream1

Nap after school today. I dreamt like this:

I'm at Lizzie's house. She's sitting there in her stupid little chair in the living room and she's just annoying me. Just babbling on about any such shit and it's really on my nerves, and not because she's an annoying person. She is, of course, believe you fucking me, but it's because I can see myself in her. I keep thinking to myself that I'm just like this. I'm just a stupid, babbling little girl who wants to write for her whole fucking life but she can't. I sit around at night and write my porno and just spend hours and hours cranking out shit that no one wants to read. I sit in this ugly black chair (so similar to Liz's) and touch myself while I type my little fuck tales. No real fucking writer fingers herself to her own work, but I sure as shit do. I'm masturbating on a mass scale here, just touching myself for the benefit of the masses. All the men in the world can read my shit whenever they please. But will they? Will they fucking care? Will I give any of them a half-decent orgasm? Probably not. I'm just sitting here with my hands between my thighs and my fingers are all fucking sweaty and I'm doing it because I don't have a boyfriend to do it for me. And why not? I'm not ugly. Boys tell me I'm nice looking. Fuck, they're liars. Boys lie. Boys lie. Boys fucking lie. They lie when you fuck them and they tell you you're so good and so sweet and then they call you a slut in front of their pencil-dicked virgin friends. But they got laid at least. Boys don't fuck, they don't ever fuck; they get laid. Girls don't fuck either. They get fucked. And getting fucked is a crime, and getting laid is an accomplishment. And nobody just fucks. Fucking is an abstract concept, along with perfection and morality. And there's no help from girls either. They all sit around and giggle and smile flirtatiously and suck dick gently and discreetly and they talk about you too. Because I fuck. I am a definer of the abstract. I take the blurry into focus. I wear old sneakers and sweatpants to school and my glasses are black and thick and my hair is stringy and I wear socks when I fuck. I don't care; I don't give a shit. I write. I put it all down. My record of immorality. My vessel of imperfection. And who likes it? Who reads it? Who cares?

And that is what I think as I sit and stare at Lizzie as she babbles on about the boy she kissed with her tongue at some stupid post-game party. Of course, she makes certain to say that she pushed him away when he got too fucking fresh. Of course. Then Lizzie would be like me. God forbid!

So by this point I was certain that my dream would be yet another warm soak in the tub of emotional self-mutilation. And then the doorbell rang. Doorbells do not ever ring in dreams if nothing important will come of them.

We open the door and a pizza boy steps in. He is not carrying a pizza. I just know he's a pizza boy though; hell it's my fucking dream.

"Hey there... do any of you ladies know where the... Smith house is? I think it's number 56, but the numbers go from 52 right to 68..."

Smith. I'm even a fucking hack in my sleep.

I look him up and down. Nice enough body. Thin. Somewhat cute. Why am I not dreaming of some ultra-specimen? I like normal boys better, of course.

I walk over to him and hug him. He's surprised and hugs me back. Strong hugger. Good boy.

Since I am not a fan of verbal foreplay in my own subconscious I take off my shirt, which was one of those little cream-colored things with tiny straps on top. My boobs bounce out, reasonably big. Saggy, yeah, but their mine. He looks at them and his jaw drops a bit. He puts his hand out and caresses them a little. I'm hard already, and he does that great trick I love where a guy brushes your tits with four of his fingers and massages your nipples with his thumb. I love it now as I loved it before.

And then I turn around and Liz, little fucking nice clean moral cum sucking Liz, takes her shirt off as well. Her tits are like a little girl's, small but perfectly round. Nipples a deep pink. How do I know what Liz's tits look like in the first place? My mind must be guessing.

"Come on... come over here..." she warbles in some hideous fake phone fuck voice. Like guys like to hear. Then she unbuttons her Capri pants in some ridiculously "naughty" fashion. He's more than happy to pull the tight little things down to her ankles. She has on these cherry red panties, close to a thong but not quite. Not fucking quite. No thongs for Liz, no no no no no. My eyes widen and I push the guy away. She's not going to pretend to be a slut now! I'm the fucking slut here! It's my dream! I grab his head and kiss him deep. He has a nice tongue, and he knows how to kiss. I suck on his tongue for a while; people don't do that often to him, I can tell. I hear Liz in the back as I finish my kiss. She's bitching that he's gotta choose one of us. I kiss him again, harder, faster. He likes it that way. My tits feel good on his cheap work shirt. I'm starting to sweat. He looks at me.

"You've done this a lot, huh?"

"Yeah," I say, "yes I certainly have."

He grabs me and kisses me yet again. His hands are up and down me now, the tips of his fingers massaging my back. Occasionally he reaches the top of my pants and slips a finger down inside my panties, feeling the top of my ass crack. I love it yet more.

"This way," he says, "I'm gonna give you a reward."

I still have no idea what that meant.

So we went out onto Liz's porch. It's kind of chilly out. He kisses me softly on the lips, and then both cheeks. Then he's on his knees and he kissing my tits so quickly and softly. And then he's sucking on me really hard. I'm still small enough that he can fit almost half my boob into his mouth at once. He's like the hungriest baby in the world. He goes to work on the other one, and rubs the moist one in his hand. I'm smiling like a fool.

He gets up and kisses my nose. He pushes me down onto a perfectly placed lawn chair. One of the big long ones. He lifts my foot up and kisses my sneaker all over. That's the weirdest thing of all. Of course I don't feel anything, but I love it. The whole idea of it. It gets me off more completely that anything he's done so far. But soon enough he yanks my shoe off. My socks are yellow like butter, and half way up to my knees. With both shoes off he rubs my feet on is face, all over. He takes one foot and buries it his stomach, massaging it with both hands. He's kissing the other wildly, and I'm laughing as I rub it all over him, trying to shove it into his mouth. He eats it up. Then he switches feet and it begins inversed.

After he's had enough foot worship, I lay back on the chair, and he gets his shits off. He tosses it onto my face. I pull it off me and he's totally naked all of a sudden. His dick's straight up, and he's hung nicely. Eight maybe. He rubs it and strokes it for me. I watch his hand move up and down and up and down. He's pre-cumming and it grows wet. It shines in the moonlight, all veins and flesh. I decide to help him out, so I stand up on the chair and turn around, my back to him. I pull my jeans down revealing my gray panties. No lace, no frills. Just gray, and getting damp. I turn around again and relish the smile on his face as he jerks off harder and harder and harder. I jump off the chair and embrace him without warning, kissing him all over his face and neck. I feel his dick pressed up against my panties, the head moistening my stomach. He pushes me away and continues to jerk off, now with both hands. After a few seconds he stops and his hands are dripping and glistening with pre-cum. He rubs them deep into my back, and the warm syrup feels so relaxing and good on my skin. It never dries out and gets cold and cracking on me either. It stays warm, like natural oil. Dream cum. He keeps pumping out more and more and he lathers my body in his hot juices. His dick's big enough that my hands fit on too, so I begin pleasuring him as well. My hands are soaked in seconds, and I begin to cover his body in his own wonderful mess. We continue for minutes upon minutes, till we are covered from head to toe, our bodies glistening with sex. I lay again on the chair and he masturbates over me, his clear juice dripping onto me every second, and I rub it all over my hair, my socks, my panties, everywhere.

After a few more minutes, he scoops me up in his arms, and carries me into the backyard. It is suddenly unbearably hot. I look out and see that a giant green pool, filled with bubbling hot water occupies the whole yard. He carries me onto the pool's deck and sets me down. I don't want to leave his arms, as he is still slick and warm from himself. He softly pulls off my panties, smells them deeply, and tosses them into the pool. I haven't shaved in a few days, but he doesn't care at all. He licks me very slowly, all around my pussy, but not touching it. He's running his fingers up and down my ass crack in the meantime. He softly flicks his tongue up and down my clit, and teases my pussy lips for what seems like forever. Then he flips me over onto my stomach, and begins to milk himself again. This time the stream of pre-cum is almost uninterrupted. He lathers my whole ass till I'm afraid it'll shrivel up like your fingers when they're too wet. Then he works on my cunt, pumping his fingers deep in. I'm already soaked, of course, but his juice makes it even better. For five minutes, he applies a fresh coat to my whole body, his hands all over me like he's sculpting me out of clay. Then I feel his tongue on the back of my neck, and I have to moan I like it so much. He licks me all over, up and down, his tongue never drying out. He picks me up and twists me and juggles me almost, just to make sure he hasn't missed a spot. And he is certain to eat me whenever he passes by. I'm drooling now, and I don't care. This is my dream. My wonderful, wonderful dream. I can be a dirty and uncaring and unglamorous as I want. I just let go and give myself in totally to the joy my body can produce. Because he's me really. My mind. He even knows to leave my socks on. So I make stupid faces and ugly noises and I dribble all over my chin.

He kisses me softly again on the mouth. He takes my hand and leads me into the pool. The water is fantastic. It's perfectly warm, and tickles me for some reason. It makes me hornier than I am already, and I fear my smile will tear the flesh right off my face. I start to giggle in that giddy way that I tend to do when I'm happy and I don't care. He bends me over and holds me tight, so tight, and he's in me from behind. He pumps slowly and fully. The water enhances everything to the point where I don't even know it's a dick in me; it's a total zone of pleasure. And as my giggles and moans reach to the heavens and the shallow water laps at my tits and he pumps me harder and harder and harder...

Tears form. I'm sobbing in sheer joy, and laughing and gasping and moaning.

All at once.

And I'm up. Lying on my bed. Face buried in the pillow. I haven't cum during a dream in years.

I smile though, as blink at my watch and lay back down.

I'm good and creative.

I'm the best lay I ever had.