She awakens slowly; a light sheen of sweat separates her from her the silk softness of her nightgown. The fresh shadows of lust and fantasy still dance through her mind. The dream of touching, caressing and lust elicited reactions from her body that had only been revealed from personal attention recently. It seemed her lip even hurt from biting, a habit she developed as a teenager while attempting to remain quite during the fondlings and gropings of sex while in the home of her parent's.
The silk slip as always rode up during the evening's blanket wrestling session, usually a routine that didn't concern her. It seemed too revealing in this moment between dreaming and consciousness, if any eyes could pierce the darkness of her room, besides her available nudity they may have seen her blush. While arranging the slip to cover herself she glances over at the time, the red lights indicating 12:13 a.m. provide the only light in the room. In the soft light she is possessed by the usual erotic thoughts, to act out the needs and fantasies her mind created in the dream state. Instinctively her hand reaches for the object of her usual affections, the long slim energized partner of so many romantic sessions, but she hesitates. The morning holds some important activities that require an attentive mind; she does not have the hour needed for evening self-interests. Her grasp on the convenient lover loosens and she throws her legs over her bed in a frustrated grunt, hoping a cold glass of water will chill her warm blood.
As she stands she finds that a restroom break is also in order. After answering those basic needs she returns to her initial goal of obtaining a cool drink. Although her mind still focuses on the dream activities, she finds her way to the refrigerator for the promised glass of refreshing liquid. The water trickles down her throat and continues to her stomach, stopping just shy of the location of the steaming blaze that holds her excited and awake. Still focused on unobtainable situations she curses herself softly in the darkness, and she curses all the gods above for damning her with loneliness. A living lover might be enough to satiate this need and desire that hold such control over her unconscious yearnings or with a more frequent partner available she may have never had the dream to being with.
With another frustrated sigh she begins her return trip to that isolated padding and lonely casing of her bed. As she approaches the bedroom she can see through the yawning doorway the disarray caused by her night activities. The sheets have been pulled back, the blankets kicked off and the pillows flung and thrown about as if the bed were a victim of an all girl slumber party. The darkness hides her instinctive blushing once again as she imagines herself shifting and groaning in response to the images painted in her head just moments ago. Her thoughts drift once again to the feeling of passionate love found in her dream. She bites her lip habitually and reviews the interaction between actor and director of her unconscious movie. Although the self inflicted sleeping desires lasted but moments her mind rewinds the actions of touching, thrusting and mounting replaying them in her imagination. She begins to moisten and sweat in immediate response to the heat of the room and the steaming in her mind.
Her conscious mind snaps her back into reality and she shakes her head, pushing out the fantasy and causing her to focus. "Get a grip." The only sound to break the silence is the self-scolding words from her throat. Realizing the room is warm and needs to be dealt with before returning to bed she quickly moves toward the sliding glass door located in the living room. Naturally any sane person would hesitate at opening such a large entrance into the protective castle of their home, but she was thirty stories above the city, and well over any immediate threat with exception of homicidal Base Climbers, a rarity in the metropolitan area.
After sliding open the glass wall the room seems to cool immediately, almost as if the heat was pulled from the room and replaced with a chilling cold. For a moment she forgets about the evening's activities and wonders about the impending snowstorm. This sort of bitter cold could only be an indication of such a tremulous weather event. Her nipples rise instinctively, not from desire but bone shattering cold. She turns toward the aperture to her domicile reflexively as if she could watch the heat being dragged from the room and the cold blasting in to replace it. It seems as though a darkness follows in the cold which slides into the room like a haunt, slowly shrouding all light and incasing her in a blanket of nothing. The surrounding night seems so solid that it has become difficult to see nearby furnishings of her apartment. As if to accent the darkness the city sleeps and makes no sound, even her soft gentle breathing has gone numb to her ears.
For a brief moment her heart quickens, fear crushes down upon her, the bestial need for light and safety are overwhelming her common sense. Then she recalls the dreams of this evening, from lust to nightmare she remembers them all. This one, she realizes will simply be another addition to that evening's collection of unconscious ranting which all minds play. She remembers reading a theory concerning dream manipulation, it is possible that if she focuses what bit of conscious understanding she seems to have retained maybe she can return to a more enjoyable theater, one filled with longing, fulfillment and release. An orgasm in a dream is still better than wakeful longing she decides as she begins to focus on more pleasurable stimulus.
She begins by focusing on past lovers, what few there have been. From the foolish and naive high school boys fumbling with her panties to the college experimentation of sapphic lust she includes them all in her minds eye. The flesh writhing around her, the tight tingling of her nerve endings as they are stimulated by tongue, finger and erection all seem to meld into one moment of sexual energy. In the darkness surrounded by nothing she feels everything. The beginning caress of her budding breasts by Thomas the next door neighbor, the unskilled fingers of Donald exploring the soft moisture of her sex, and even the slight acid taste of her roommate Kelly's sensitive folds all flood from her memory in one instant flash.
So explosive is this sexual release that she almost topples to her knees. She half grins thinking of how her body must be responding to these sexually seductive dreams, how the bed linen must suffer from sweat and writhing lust. She closes her eyes and returns to focusing on past sexual escapades. She recalls her fist orgasm, like most women she was alone and enjoying the pleasure of her own touch. She just turned eighteen and had been accepted to an Ivy League school for her skills in writing and mathematics. The same day that she told Jason that she loved him and would gladly accept him as her prom date, the release seemed a fitting end to a special day.
That evening's experimentation began as many others, alone, stripped to her panties and bra in her room. She just stepped out of the shower, the heat and steam relaxed her and added to the joy filled day. There was no hesitation in her mind about the next few moments, she had not been raised to feel guilt in this activity, and so without pausing, she slipped from her underclothes and lay on her bed. The covers and sheets had already been pulled down a bit, something special her mom always like to do, the cool crisp clean sheets comforted her and allowed her fantasy to quickly come to life.
The object of her affection and imaginings was none other than Jason, High School friend and fellow dilettante she often spent time with him at school and on parent guided functions, she dreamed of the evening when they could be together, even if only for a few fleeting moments. As she gathered her thoughts and focused on his touching and romantic caresses her left hand began to slide to her breasts. Gently she mimicked the hands of her lover, sliding her hands above her soft skin. Small Goosebumps rose on her peach colored flesh in anticipation. Her fingers trailed along the edges of her right breast starting from the outside and circling to the inside using just the tip of her nail. The small focal point of touch was so pleasurable that she had to bite her lip to silence the moan.
One hand continued to pleasure her breasts and nipples the other slid slowly down her stomach, brushing lightly on the soft nether locks and finally resting gently between her legs. As if in trained anticipation her legs spread slowly not wishing to disrupt the scene in her mind. The scene of Jason, his naked flesh pressed close to hers, the way his eyes would scan hers as he touched and loved her. The hand on her sex held steady resting on the outer closures of her body waiting for that moment when fantasy and reality could merge as one. It was then that the daydream Jason looking down with his bright blue eyes and handsome hair asked, "May I make love to you." With that imagined question she uttered a soft "Yes", in response and he would enter her.
