In my room, under my Sheets I lay. My penis, fully erect without cognition. Blood circulating to pulse its veins as I involuntarily did lustful things in my wet dream. My physical body being rich with the blood of sexual arousal. A light layer or perspiration as the NZ summer night breeze flowed through my room windows. Shifting my position known only to my sprung bed as I went deeper into the realm of unbounded lust.
My lips wet with her cum. My fingers dripping as I guided them into her mouth. Not giving her time to recover. Not that she beckoned for it. Over here, there was no stopping. Only moving on to building her up to the next. Building myself up to explode. But not just yet. There was more pleasure to be had.
Having her legs around me, her wet pussy running across my thigh. Leaving trails of her sex all over my body. I loved it. I wanted to have her everywhere, in every which way. The thought of it drives me to the brink. To have her grab my cock and rub her pussy with it. Using it as a tool. I would have my tongue in her mouth as she moaned indiscernible words. Her breasts pushed up against me. My hands on her love handles as it moved to grab her ass. As if communicating to her to slip my cock into her beckoning pussy. We both wanted it, but every second we held back would increase our anticipation and carnal craving to fuck like the horny beings we were.
It's around here when I awoke. It was shear disbelief I felt when the realisation hit me that it was all a dream. How was it so real and how could I get back to it. I needed to.
I was back in that room. It smelt like sex. It smelt of us fucking. I smelt of her. My mouth tasted of her sex as I swallowed her uncontrolled moans. I don't know if we were on her bed or her couch. We were everywhere. I don't know if my hands were grabbing her breasts or spreading her cheeks. They were everywhere. Her hips gyrating on my cock as if to have her pussy engulf it to hit every spot that she could derive pleasure from. I couldn't be deeper, I couldn't pull her closer to me. I was at my deepest. Our rhythm matching to make my every thrust a gasp. Every gasp a moan. Every moan an opportunity to breath her in. Ripples of our repeated contact being felt through our torsos and thighs.
My imagination driving me crazy. I could taste her because I knew that taste so well. I could hear her moan. I knew that sound so well. It was like she was right there in the room with me as I fucked her to the brink and well past it. I kept stroking myself imagining her asking me to cum for her. She would say it into my ear before sticking her tongue into it depositing her saliva and just driving me to that massive orgasm. The orgasm I was about to have that I couldn't hold back. I didn't want to. I wasn't going to. I didn't. I didn't wash up either because I knew she would've swallowed every last drop and in my head that's exactly what she did.
We would wash ourselves the next morning perhaps.
