I never know I'm dreaming at first. This one was no exception. I don't know how I wound up here, or even where here is, but I don't care. I know why I'm there. I'm there because She is there; you know the one I mean. You see her when it's been whatever you consider "a while" since your last orgasm that someone else helped you achieve, and your frustrated brain just wants to clear the cobwebs out so it can think straight again. That one. I don't know who she is, or who she's supposed to be to me, or if she represents anyone specific in my real life, but I also don't really care. Her appearance changes all the time. Sometimes she's a leggy blonde bimbo with big fake tits, or a girl-next-door brunette heartbreaker with the bluest fucking eyes you've ever seen and tits that'd make you weep if you saw them in real life. Once in a while she's an exotic, ebony-skinned temptress who probably would certainly have inspired some paleolithic mythology if she'd lived a few thousand years ago, or my personal favorite, a flesh-and-blood Jessica Rabbit type. Sometimes she has friends along, but usually it's just her.
This time it's the brunette.
Sometimes we play some silly seduction games beforehand, and it's always a fun dance, but not this time. This time it's been too long, and neither of us want to wait. The eye contact lasts just a hair longer than our patience and suddenly our lips are together. She tastes like candy and smells like light perfume and raw need. Hands start to explore and it's not long before shirts are out of the picture, followed in short order by shoes and pants and various undergarments that would bear a more detailed description if I had actually bothered to look. No time for that; gotta' get her on this bed. When did that get here? No clue; I just push her back onto it and kneel down between a pale pair of thighs and get to work. I have no idea how she manages to taste this good; clean and fresh and very happy to see me. It's the kind of thing that usually sends me down a rabbit hole of unanswered questions in the waking world, but this is my dream, and logic has no power here.
I stay down there for a while, kissing, licking, sucking, nibbling, squeezing, teasing, and generally having a fine time of making her squirm through several shuddering orgasms before I let her try and return the favor. If I didn't know it was a dream before, her tooth-free, overly enthusiastic disregard for oxygen would have given it right away. She gives the kind of head you can only get from a professional who's short on her rent money this month, or a relatively new significant other who's both orally fixated, and very very sorry about that last fight. It's sloppy, it's messy, it's selfish, it's the kind of throatfucking that would've had a younger me drained in a minute, tops. But it's my dream, and I'm not done with her yet.
