Written by: Anonymous
Waking up slowly
Wanting him
The dream so real
Him holding her so tight
His hands flowing over her body
Touching, caressing
His lips warm and wet, kissing her with such passion
Such tenderness
Her body responding
Aching
Empty
Her breast swelling at the thought of his touch
The nipples hard
Her hips moving as feelings sweep over
The need for him so strong
She touches herself
So wet, so warm
Imagining it’s his hand on her
The tightness grows
Becoming pain, a want so bad
It’s indescribable
Then the image of him
Erection so hard, standing out from his body
He comes to her
With one hard thrust
Enters her filling the aching emptiness
And her body twists as orgasm grabs her and carries her to the pleasure that only he gives.
Waking from that kind of dream can be pleasurable or leave you feeling down. For me, this one was a pleasure. I guess because I didn’t leave it there. Wet dreams are often the precursor of the sexual desire we all try to keep suppressed during the day, and this one was a doozy. You know the feeling you get when you’ve been trying to put off, or postpone something? How everything gets more intense? Well!
It had been a long time since there had been time for me to think about anything except work and the day to day problems that we all endure. That special morning my eyes just didn’t want to open. The languor that gripped my body kept clinging, no matter how much my mind told me it was time to get up and get going. Darkness still held the quiet room in its firm grip. The bed was so soft, the cover warm and I was sleepy. Deep and slow, each breath stirred the lock of hair that had fallen over my face. Lying there on my back, I could feel the sheet brushing my breasts as my chest rose and fell. It felt different than normal. The light cotton had taken on the essence of satin and my nipples began to harden. They were becoming sensitive, so receptive to the light touch. Tendrils of awareness drifted from them to other parts of my body making me aware of an ache, an ache that demanded fulfillment. To ignore that demand was more than I could do.
I slid my arms under the blankets, down into the warm cocoon of body and cover. My right hand rested on my tummy as the fingers of my left began an exploration of a breast. The skin was smooth as my fingers brushed across until I came to the aureole. So soft just before the swelling of the nipples. My right hand mimicked the left on the other breast, gently pinching the nubs, tugging, pulling, feeling the shocks that raced from each to my groin. Nearly painful in intensity, I still couldn’t stop.
The pressure built. My eyes remained closed as my thoughts wove a fantasy, not in words but in pictures. The man of my dreams in flashes of memories. The way he turned his head to look at me. The sight of his strong hands as they lay on my creamy flesh. His strong physique, ready to make love to me, wanting to take me to paradise.
My hands traveled across my belly imitating the moves his hands would have made. Fingers splayed to touch as much of my body as I could reach; I paused at my navel to run a fingernail around that depression. Another shock sped from the contact to my groin, to the secret place that woke more with each passing minute. I dug my fingertips into my abdomen, just above the tr