Wish I had someone to sleep with. I lay there today in my tight shorts and blouse, sleeping prone with the front door wide open to the street and my bedroom. I dreamed of someone--the tall, dark-haired driver from work, maybe--, walking in and running his hand down might ass, sensitized by the denim stretched over it. Maybe I'd be half asleep...in a fantasy, I can pretend I don't sleep with one eye open. I picture him running his hand down my ass, and I'd try to flip over from where I slept on my stomach, one leg pulled up. But he's so strong that in the small of my back, one hand (so much bigger than mine), can keep me immobile. Not that I'd want to move, but common decency would otherwise require me to. Now it's all but degrading to be dominated in such a way as to be made a slut by one hand--there'd be no denying that I like his hands on me. Maybe he'd threaten me for good measure; I'd be afraid to move or argue, even when his hand dipped low to rub where my pussy starts. God knows the shorts are so tight, the lips of my pussy are splayed on either side. Nature makes me afraid of not allowing access to insistent males...I don't even realize when my thighs fall open, it's just Mother Nature taking over.
When he rubs too low, almost to where my pussy is obscured by the bed, I raise my knees, just enough to allow easy access. He appreciates this gesture, and slips his whole hand beneath me to where my front faces the pillows. I raise to my hands and knees, ready for him. How can I be ready so quickly, I wonder in amazement. But he's not. He unbuttons the dual snaps on my thin cover, my resistance to him. I shudder as my shorts slide roughly down my ass, tight as a prison. He lets out an approving grunt of pleasure, but I still haven't had more than a peripheral glance of him. My shorts hang at my knees on the bed. I wait to see what he'll do--he slides a hand inside my black, flowered panties. God, he follows the crack of it down, lightly running down the soft, sensitive fur until he pauses at the seeping moisture. I think he's amused. He has the deepest, huskiest voice as he teases, "You can't hide it," before he dips his finger in to run along my sweet, slippery cunny. I let out a choked gasp--oh, this is heavenly. My belly squeezes over and over in arousal. As he continues back on a downward stroke, spreading my cum, I can't help but back up to his hand. We are all merely animals; I am no better than a cat in heat. He chuckles and slips a long, narrow finger in me. I squeeze--oh God, fulfillment, but he's not big enough!
"Please!" I gasp wildly. It's the first I've spoken in this exchange of ours.
He crooks his finger.