I dreamed of you again last night, your body haunts my mind. You bring your mouth to my ear and whisper that I'm a naughty girl and that you are going to punish me in any way you please. I half heartedly beg you to go easy on me but we both know that my body is getting moist just from the anticipation of what you are going to do to me.
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I was having the sweetest dream. My wife was giving me the best blow job I've ever had! Then I started to wake up and realized that it wasn't a dream! Her soft lips were working my cock like never before, and this time she was having no trouble taking all seven inches.
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When you're eighteen and having overly erotic dreams, to whom do you talk? Your girlfriends? They'd laugh and want all the salacious details. Your boyfriend? He'd want to act it out, and that wasn't going to happen. Your mother? Yes, Denise could just see herself going to her mother to discuss erotic dreams. Not in this lifetime. She sighed as she went to bed. Maybe she wouldn't have any tonight.
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"Can you come here please?"
I hear your call from the bedroom, though the question is really not so much a request. Curious, I walk down the hall noting that the light in the bedroom is still off. I stand in the doorway. I can see your silhouette against the streetlight that shines through the window.
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