Touching down at the small airport after the long journey from London, Emily was ready for a shower, a drink and a nap, though in which order she wasn't quite sure. She'd been pondering this matter for a while ever since the transfer in Kuala Lumpur. Pondering it between dozing and the distraction of the man just in front on the opposite aisle. More than once a small smile had crossed her lips as she studied the back of the man's salt and pepper hair, admired his broad shoulders and caught glimpses of his rather fetching jawline. Little fantasies played out in her head, as they do in that half asleep, half awake way, keeping Emily entertained and a little aroused throughout the flight.
As she disembarked, thoughts of the stranger put to one side, what was playing on her mind was that important decision, cocktail, cup of tea, shower or snooze? This thought too disappeared as the island's tropical countryside revealed itself from the window of the taxi; paddy fields, mango trees, school children in smart uniforms and cheerful smiles crammed 3 or 4 on mopeds, street food stalls, palm trees, glimpses of beach and azure ocean. Breathing in the sights and smells Emily sighed and relaxed, tension dropping from her shoulders. This was exactly what she craved a quiet week in beautiful, warm surrounds, a beer and a book.
The villa had views of the ocean, red bougainvillea and palms framed the views. It was shaded with rattan blinds, contained a large king size bed with crisp sheets below a gently rotating fan. The bathroom contained a multitude of exotic potions, a large shower and a bath that looked made for two. The mini bar was fully stocked. There was no TV. It was spacious and cool and a comfortable distance from the next nearest villa, yet only a short walk to the pool, the spa, the bar and resort restaurant. On entering Emily smiled, did a little dance to the music in her head, made herself a cup of tea, removed her shoes and promptly fell asleep on the oh so comfortable bed.
This is what you should know about Emily. She was in her forties but could easily pass for a decade younger. She had short blonde hair with a long fringe that always fell sexily over her right eye. One of two lovely blue eyes, which often twinkled especially when accompanied by the delightful smile from her pretty mouth. Her lips were made to be kissed. She was a proper woman with curves, often showing a little cleavage, which pleased her nearly as much as it pleased her numerous admirers, and though not tall she always looked elegant, simple make up and lipstick just enough to enhance her good looks. She was a woman who still made men's heads turn and despite herself enjoyed doing so.
As Emily slept on top of her crisp sheets, air from the fan cooling her, her unconscious returned to the man on the plane. The jaw, the stubble, that hair, those shoulders. Her sleeping mind constructed a handsome face and a strong body. A man of age and experience, not old but wouldn't see thirty again. A man with a ready laugh and smiling eyes. Thoughts of his breath on her neck must have been caused by the breeze from the fan, yet it still felt good. Emily's mind imagined a kiss, gentle on the lips, delightfully trailing down her body. Her subconscious imagination saw him standing over her, removing his clothes, down to his tight white shorts where the bulging outline of an erect penis stood proud and waiting. The man put his thumbs in the sides of his pants, pulling them down...his cock springing out to hit his muscular abs and Emily both in her dream and on her bed licked her lips.
Stirring in her slumber, the beauty of Emily's dream played out. That hard cock seemed so real, as real as her engorged labia, as real as her taut nipples, as real as the secretions soaking her panties. With a sleepy murmur Emily reached out in her dream, grasping the inviting cock, her hand slid up the shaft, feeling its heat, enjoying its fleshy hardness. She rubbed her thumb around the softer head, spreading the leaking fluid around it, eyes glued to the movements and twitches of the beautiful shaft.
Sleeping but fully aroused, Emily's imagination was in overdrive, her mouth now engulfing the dreamy cock, her tongue lapping the dripping pre-cum, her hand vigorously wanking anything that wouldn't fit in her mouth. Unconsciously her right hand drifted into her panties, spreading her wetness up and down the length of her pussy before two fingers found her stiff little clitoris, rubbing expertly, even asleep, around and around as thoughts of making the man cum engulfed her mind. She could taste him, that unique savoury, salty taste of sex, of sperm.
Emily's fingers were now buried deep in her slick pussy, sometimes inside her, sometimes rubbing her clit. Her other hand had found her left breast and its hard nipple, rubbing, squeezing, sending shockwaves of desire deep into her core. And all this time in her dream she had hold of that spunk filled cock, could feel the man's balls bouncing, could sense his imminent explosion, could hear his ragged breathing.
If you could have seen Emily that late afternoon, sprawled, depraved across that bed, shorts undone, a hand buried deep in her panties another fondling her own tits, sweat on her brow, tiny gasps escaping her pretty mouth, you may have concluded she was in the midst of a fever. But if you could have been in her sleeping head you would have known that the cock stretching her mouth was on the verge and that the gasps were of her own approaching orgasm. Tension coursed through her nerve endings as her hand moved faster around her hot sex, tension that was about to erupt just as the man himself erupted, spurting jets of sticky sperm into her cheeks, coating her tongue and lips. Just a dream but that taste, that feeling of power, of animal lust overwhelmed the sleeping, masturbating, beautiful Emily. As the hot, dreamy sperm hit the back of her throat, her own fabulous orgasm overtook her, making her shudder and expel a long gasp of sexual pleasure as the sparks flew in her head and in her pussy, releasing the tension.
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When Emily awoke, it was dusk outside the villa. The remnants of the sun were penetrating the blinds and she was consumed by an overwhelming sense of well-being. Rising from the bed she realised her shorts were round her ankles and nearly fell, collapsing back onto the bed giggling. And why were her panties so wet, clinging to her swollen mound, and what was that taste in her mouth? She felt content, but couldn't remember exactly why as she headed for the shower.
Freshly washed, blow dried and made up with a little blue-grey eye shadow and some pale lipstick, Emily headed to the bar. As it was warm her attire was very simple, a white floral summer dress. Flared skirt finishing just above the knee, spaghetti straps on the 3 buttoned fitted bodice, the top button undone revealing just a hint of cleavage. Under the dress simple, lace edged, pure white boy shorts with a small pink bow just above her pubic mound. A freshly shaved pubic mound, just finished in the shower. She couldn't figure it out but she wanted to feel sexy, wanted to turn heads, to be desired. Her pretty panties tight against her bare sex made her feel good, while that unaccountable glow of satisfaction put her in a delightfully frisky mood.
Taking a seat at the bar, Emily ordered a cold beer and surveyed the room, her eyes smouldering from under her blonde fringe. At the other end of the space she saw a man with his back turned. His hair and shoulders looked familiar, then she saw his chin and as though struck by lightning Emily gasped out loud, rapidly turning away blushing as her hot dream and that man's role in it came flooding back to her.
Flushed and embarrassed with the dream playing out in her mind, Emily turned away to face the bar, taking a long swig on her drink. "Oh my God," had she really dreamt about giving that man a blow job, a man she'd never met, never even seen his face. Yet the thought had her squirming slightly in her seat too. Now she remembered it, her pussy responded accordingly. "What a bloody fantastic dream" she thought, rubbing her thighs together as the image of the hard cock in her mouth came back to her.
Still a little pink from her blush, but also from this fresh arousal, lost in her own thoughts Emily hadn't heard the movement behind her. So it was only when she heard a voice, "Excuse me, sorry to bother you...?" that she turned around. Thinking to herself, "Who knows me here?" she slowly turned in her chair as the rich, playful tones of a very masculine English voice penetrated her thoughts.
And there he was the man from her erotic dream, tall but not too tall, slim but not too slim, broad and muscular but not too muscular, tanned but not too tanned. Happy green eyes, full head of salt and pepper hair, a strong nose and a very kissable looking mouth. She knew he was talking to her but in her head she was thinking, "I wonder if his cock looks as good as the one in my dream?"
Finally turning to face him properly she saw he was wearing casual faded dark blue shorts, worn flip flops and a comfortable looking white linen shirt, sleeves partly rolled up. Her stomach gave a little flip as she realised she must have been staring at his shorts, at the satisfying bulge contained therein, and he had stopped talking. She felt there was a question hanging in the air that she'd missed, as his amused eyes looked questioningly into hers...
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