Response to "After the Dream"
A tremble works through her body clad in a white T-shirt that clung to her sweaty flesh. She wakes just when her dream lover aims to do as she craves. “No!” she cries at another opportunity stolen by her damn internal clock!
Once more, her dream lover slips out of her arms. He fades back into dreamland where he belongs. Her fist strikes her pillow in frustration. Sweat standing out on her skin, a sheet no longer covers her. Soft light of morning cuts through the gloom of her bedroom window and shines in her eyes.
“Where are you?” she asks the empty room and closes her eyes. As usual, she hears no reply.
Each night her dream lover torments her with the passion her waking life lacks. It holds routine instead. A sound job provides her the necessities of life. Good food from the farmer’s market, shelter in a lovely home, retirement savings for future comfort, and problems for her inquisitive mind to solve on a daily basis. Her home life bores her, yet is drama-free.
Dates? No man could breach her walls of high expectation the way her dream lover does. No one could compare really. So to satisfy her physical needs her battery-operated boyfriend never fails to pick up the slack.
Other life pursuits besides dead end dates exist, too. Traveling appeals to her to visit different places when the whim struck her.Of course, spending time with friends and family, ranks high along with reading romance novels whenever she could. She also loves dabbling in writing her own stories. The subject of her erotic tales of late revolve around her dream lover.
She tries to calm her rushed breathing and go back to sleep. Today is her day off, and she could find no reason not to return to dreamland and finish what they start. She never counts on the inability to fall back to sleep.
Rolling on her back, she sighs knowing there is no way sleep can be reclaimed. Regardless, her blood boils. She is flushed from head to toe. Her hard nipples ache to be sucked by her dream lover’s mouth. Her hot pocket wants to be filled with his meat.
Since no sleep would be hers for the time being, she heads to the shower to get her day underway. As it steams with heat, she tosses off her white T-shirt to the hamper and steps within the opaque doors of her shower. She needs to cum. Using her over-active imagination, she knows only one way to make this happen.
The shower door closes, and her dream lover follows her inside. He smiles in that pussy-wetting way of his. Her blood runs hotter still through her. When he kisses her, she feels his hunger match her own. She backs into the shower wall feeling his arms around her, hugging her close to his hot skin.
The dream lover’s hands travel over her shoulders and her breasts. She arches into his big hands. Yes! Her hands are his. Fingers pinch the hard pointy bits of flesh standing out of her chest and make her whimper with need. Fingertips circle the heated flesh of her sensitive areolas. More pinching of the nipples before his lips kiss her skin down her throat and center of her chest.
Like the trail of water down her body, the fingers trail lower from her peaks to rub her aching clit. She cries out again because his hand hones on the sweet bit of flesh he owns. So gentle at first, he teases her through the folds. Every swirl gradually gets faster like her breath as the hot water rains down.
“Fill me, baby,” she whimpers.
In answer, fingers drift lower. The dip is mild between the smooth lips. For the shower offers steams of water outside, but from within she offers her own kind of shower leaking from her slit. The fingers discover this liquid heat and use it to dive deep. At last, the filling is complete.
She trembles with one digit and then two. Each dive another finger to please her. When the third is given she shoots to heaven. However, it is the fourth that renders her a convulsing mess. She could not hold on. In her mind, the fingers take a different ride. They become a cock. Her dream lover’s cock and it is what she needs.
His cock plunges so deep. She cries out unable to stand as her legs quake. She falls to the small shower bench but the fingers/his cock never stop. Repeating the deep dive, they take her for the ride she craves.
As he holds her, he pushes his thick cock deep inside her, pulsing with life, overwhelming her senses. Her dream lover claims her mouth as he cups her bottom and switches places with her. He lets her rock to oblivion holding on tight giving her all he has. There is no more room when the cervix is reached.
She grinds in abandon to her shattering climax. She cries his name. Shortly afterward, she feels him cut loose inside her, emptying the hot load he built for her. He moans into her mouth pumping his last.
When she opens her eyes, her dream lover is not there. Instead, she sits on the shower bench alone completely spent with only cold water to cool her down as she pants after her breath. So sensitive she finishes bathing and comes from the shower missing him. She feels better now that she came, but longs for the night when she might dream of her lover again.
© Copyright 2022 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.
Book / Erotica
Book / Erotica
Poem / Erotica