My Secret Lesbian Dream

The room is warm, a fire crackling in the fireplace. Dozens of scented candles provide the rest of the illumination as I watched the petite curly haired blonde reach behind her and slowly unzip her little black dress. She turns away from me and shrugs the dress off her shoulders, letting it fall to her thin waist.

It's the girl that had made a pass at me at a dance club that I had shrugged off back when I was in college. I hadn't thought of her in years. I'm not a lesbian. I don't even think of myself as bisexual, but the sight of this beautiful woman dancing erotically in front of me is turning me on in ways I never imagined. I want to know this woman in ways I have never known a woman before.

I watch her hips sway to the music. The graceful curves of her body glowing in the firelight. I see a hint of a shapely breast when she raises her hands above her head, dancing slowly, her back still to me. My pussy is tingling and needs to be touched, but I find that I am unable to move. I am completely nude, hands and legs tied to the bed with silk scarves.

She places her hands on the fold of her dress and starts to push it down over her hips, exposing her nicely shaped, firm ass. A perfect hour-glass figure. The dress falls to the floor and she slowly turns back to me. Her rounded breasts, just the right size making me wish I could feel her perky nipple between my teeth, and the soft flesh against my lips. Her tight stomach above neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair, almost invisible in the dim lighting. I slowly buck my hips, desire consuming me.

She moves closer, providing me a better view. Close enough to touch her, if only my hands were free. She runs her hands over her body, cradling her breasts, teasing me mercilessly. One of her hands runs over her stomach, then between her legs, causing her eyes to close and a little gasp of pleasure escaped her kissable lips. My breasts are heaving as I pant heavily, but my eyes never leave her body.

She lays on a thick, shaggy white rug in front of the fire, facing towards me, legs together, a hint of her pussy lips glistening in the flickering light. She continues to run her hands over her thighs, stomach, breasts, touching lightly, clearly enjoying the sensation. She squeezes her breasts and arches her back, legs starting to part slightly. Her hands move back down her body. I watch intensely, wishing I could touch her like that. Wishing she would touch me like that. I could feel the moisture between my own legs, practically dripping. How long could I handle this?

She looked deep into my eyes as she slowly spread her legs and reaches between them, one hand parting her vagina, the other gently pressing alongside her clit. She started to moan as she slowly traced along the rim of her pussy, dipping down into her hole every few strokes. Her pace picked up, and so to her moaning, becoming louder. She brought one hand up to fondle her breast and pinch her nipple as she continued to masturbate in front of me.

Even without being touched, the sensations were so intense that I was moaning as well. It felt like the beginning of an intense orgasm building up inside of me. I squeezed my thighs together and bucked my hips in frustration. I wished I could touch her. I couldn't believe I was thinking this, but I wanted to feel the softness and wetness of her pussy against my own, her leg sliding across my belly as our bodies moved together. The thought caused my moaning to grow in volume. She was quickly working up to an orgasm, her back arched, her cries getting louder, and I was about to come right along with her.

Just as I started to feel the oncoming orgasm, I woke up in bed, gasping for breath, sweat clinging to my skin, my husband quietly snoring next to me. My orgasm was lost, but not my lust. I could feel that my pussy was wet, just like in my dream. I lay in bed, trying to get my breathing back under control, worried that I might wake up Steve.

I have had occasional wet dreams since puberty, but I rarely remembered the dream that caused it, though some of the ones I have remembered have become favorite secret fantasies, none of them involved another woman. For some reason, the visions of the blonde kept playing over and over in my mind. I ached, wanting to touch myself, but was embarrassed at the reason for it. My bisexual curiosity was piqued and as I laid their, I realized that my lust wasn't dissipating. In fact, I could barely think of anything else.

I looked over at Steve, making sure he was still sleeping, then ran my fingers down into my panties, to my ready pussy. I ran my finger across my clit and moaned quietly, quickly biting my lip to keep from waking my husband. I continued to rub my clit, getting closer to orgasm, but it was alluding me. I stripped off my nightgown and panties, nervous and excited that my husband might catch me. I spread my pussy and put my fingers inside, trying to reach my g-spot. I gasped as I hit it. It was an uncomfortable position, so I couldn't maintain it long, but it felt amazing.

My fingers soon found my clit once again. I started imagining the blonde woman from my dream on top of me, missionary style, rubbing her clit against mine. My orgasm was once again building. I was pressing my hips up as I got closer and closer. Suddenly I was completely given over to the climax. It started at my clit and ran through my body in waves. Even after the initial climax, the waves continued through my body as I slowly rubbing my pussy and breasts, savoring it for as long as possible.

By the time my orgasm had abated, I noticed my husband watching me, his arm moving slowly under the cover. I was embarrassed, but more to the point, I was horny and wanted to feel his cock inside of me. This might have been partially to prove that I was still hetero to myself, but I also hadn't been aroused like this in a long time.

I reached over to him and slid my hand into his pajama bottoms as he moved his away and rolled onto his back. He wasn't hard yet, but it felt like it was going in the right direction. I wanted to feel him harden in my mouth, so I pulled his pajama bottoms off and went down on him, licking his partially hardened cock from balls to tip before putting it in my mouth. Within a few strokes he was hard and groaning in pleasure, his hand on my head, holding my hair back, but also encouraging me.

After a few minutes of giving him head, I straddled one of his leg, rubbing my pussy against it. This is one of my favorite positions during foreplay. The feel of the hard muscles of his thigh and the friction of the short hairs felt amazing. I rubbed against his leg, stroking him with one hand while the other rested on his six-pack stomach to support myself. He watched me with desire as I ground on his leg. I was getting close to orgasm, but I needed to be filled by him and wanted to come on his dick.

Instead of moving the leg that was between his legs and riding him cowgirl style like we often did, on a spur-of-the-moment idea, I lifted my other leg over him so I was sitting on his stomach, facing partially away from him, dick in my hand and pressed against my clit. I rubbed my pussy along the length of it a few times, which sent shivers down my spine, then pressed him slowly inside of myself. The sensation of my pussy stretching to accommodate him felt great. I felt a deep satisfaction as he filled me that was lacking from my lesbian dream, though the visions from the dream kept playing in my mind.

In the position I had just discovered, I found that when he lifted his knee, my clit rubbed against his thigh. I held his knee against my stomach and was able to get nearly the same stimulation as when I just ground on it, but with the added benefit of having him filling me. I started moving up and down quickly, rocking back and forth every few strokes. I began to feel the start of another orgasm deep inside of me. I picked up my pace, eschewing the rocking, as the pleasure increased. My orgasm started slowly and built up as I continued, crying out in pleasure, holding my clit to his thigh as my body convulsed.

I was beginning to tire, but Steve still hadn't had an orgasm. I slipped off and went down on him again. I tasted myself on his cock as I licked it clean and slid it in my mouth, feeling the hardness of his member as it slid across my lips and tongue. I grabbed his cock in my hand and started to jack him off as I sucked. I could tell he was getting close and I picked up my pace. He lifted his hips as he got closer and was soon coming in my mouth. I sucked him clean as he relaxed after his orgasm, enjoying the hardness of him in my mouth.

Once he started to soften a bit, I laid down next to him in bed, my head resting on his hairy chest and pulling the comforter up to cover us. We were both soon asleep. When we woke in the morning, he asked what it was about. I was embarrassed and didn't want to tell him about my dream, so I just said that I was ovulating, which was true, and might have been behind the wet dream. He already knew I got horny during this part of my cycle, but I hadn't told him about my wet dreams yet (though I think he suspects), and certainly wasn't going to tell him about my lesbian wet dream, at least not today.