As you drift, finally, into a deep sleep, you find yourself once again in the same dream.
It's the hotel room just as it was before—morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. How did you get here? How did she get here?
Your clothes lie on the floor next to hers, yet you don't remember taking them off. You are fully naked. As is she. How did she know you would come here when you weren't sure yourself? You try to remember what happened in the dream the last time.
But your thoughts are interrupted by a sound.... A sharp intake of breath, then her voice, a shaky pleading whisper...
"I'm ready."
Before you have time to form the words, "For what?" you watch as she arches her back, lifts her ass into the air and leans her arms on the back of the couch. Your head swims a bit as you take in the scene: the curve of her hips as they taper to her waist. Her ass rocks almost imperceptibly from side to side.
While part of you isn't sure what to do, you know what you want to do. Then you realize the fingers of your right hand have slipped between the folds of your pussy, while your left is cupping your breast and slowly working the nipple between your fingers.
Is this how it happened last time? Or were you the one on the couch? Images and sensations flash that are hard to grasp—hips thrusting into you, an exquisite pain in your nipple, hair pulled backward, an urgent tongue in your mouth. They disappear and you're left with her—waiting, breath heavy.
You pull your fingers from your cunt. "Damn," you think. "I'm so fucking wet."
You take a step forward, close enough to touch her. She shifts her legs and her ass sways hypnotically before you. She turns her head and the hair cascades over her shoulder. You smell it's floral aroma, just barely above her musky sweat. Or is it yours? So hard to tell.
You take your finger, still glistening with your own excitement, and touch her back just above the crack of her ass. She lets out a shuddered moan, arches her ass ever so slightly up against your hand. You trace a trail down the cleft of her sweet, voluptuous ass. Another moan. Was it her, or you, or both? At this point it hardly matters. Her need is your need. Her anticipation is your anticipation. And as your finger makes its way all the way down, your wetness becomes her wetness.
It's not so much that you kneel down behind her as it is that your knees almost buckle with the excitement and dizzy desire. Your head feels almost heavy, and it would have moved forward into her of its own accord. But you feel her shift her weight, then feel her hand on the back of your head. Your hair is desperately grabbed and your face pulled forward. You gasp in surprise and your open mouth is rewarded with the warm, slick prize of her swollen lips on your tongue.