Support Our Kinky Hustle...

Friday, September 18, 2009

Coupling

It’s midnight. I lay wide-awake. Sleep is eluding me for the forth night this week. Sweat stained sheets stick to my naked body. I toss and turn, wrestling with the linen; I’m horny. As my clammy hands slide over erect nipples saliva begins to pool in my mouth. Fantasies of animalistic, aggressive, rough sex parade through my mind. Minutes pass. Soon the feel of my own touch is no longer satisfying. The chocolaty thickness of my nipples retreats back into the softness of my breasts and I moan -- pure frustration. Sleep pulls my eyes closed and I drift off....thoughts of pussy on my mind.

1:12 a.m. I’m awakened by a vivid dream. The scent of her sweetness is so real my upper lip is moist and I can still taste her on the tip my tongue. As I turn the silky glide of my thighs solidifies just how real the moment was. I reach down to taste myself allowing my fingers to linger in my mouth and my mind to picture it as her. The emotion of experiencing all that I once loved feeling, touching, holding, kissing, licking, even only in my dreams was enough to make me reach a moment of ecstasy. I cry.

2:27 a.m. I closed my eyes and she came back. Straddled across my belly, her strong thighs applying pressure to my midsection, the round petite breasts I’d grown to love dangling in front of me, a carrot to horse. My arms are pinned behind my head. I stretch my neck and my tongue to taste the goodness that was once only mine to no avail. She arches her back away; still holding my arms...putting the sweet prize out of my reach...smiling her devilish smile all the while. We play cat and mouse as time stretches on and night becomes day. in my reality she bestows to me a passionate kiss. Our mouths connect as one - the taste so strong, the sensations so deep, the desire for more unwavering as our tongues battle for dominance. A kiss is never just a kiss especially when it’s your last.

5:47 a.m. Slivers of daylight are smothering the room now. I rearrange the pillows and snuggle into the blanket all hoping to welcome sleep again. I beg it to return so she can come back. 3 minutes. 10 minutes. 30 minutes. Nothing. I squeeze my eyes tighter, rub the spot were an erect nipple should soon protrude hoping she will at least visit my daydream. Nothing. The space between my thighs is still wet. I use my free hand to explore, but the passion is gone. The moment has passed. Without her presence the touch feels like a violation, so I stop. I get up and retrieve my towel from behind the bedroom door heading for the shower. Maybe the water will wash away last night's confusion and despair.

Ever had a fucked up wet dream?

2 comments:

Indigo said...

Phew!! That was some bedtime story! I'm hot n ready and so wanting your hands over my body.. er.. sorry ..I'm getting acrried away!! You write with such passion, and yes I'm horny now

Black Pearl said...

Have had plently of fucked up wet dreams, there's nothing worse than waking up and not being able to get back to the good stuff!!