The Heat of an Erotic Dream

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He’s younger than me. Legal, but young enough to make me feel the years between us. Tall, lanky, but solid. A mop of dull brown hair. I can’t decide if I want to run my fingers through it or brush it.

I can’t completely see his face, but I know it’s fresh and innocent. Earnest in his request.

Will I teach him about sex? Can he fuck me and touch me and learn from me?

My agreement is immediate but not without reservation. Why me? Will he really want my body? Can he give me what I crave, and can I give him what he needs?

I know he’s kissing me, but I don’t feel his tongue or taste him. All I sense is the warmth of his body covering my own. I feel safe and secure, but wanton and wild. My hands roam his body. The crisp buttoned shirt he has yet to take off. The rough denim and the zipper I’m desperate to reach.

He pulls my shirt up and my bra down, exposing my skin, almost sizzling under his touch. Groaning with pleasure, his mouth devours tight nipples and goose-pebbled flesh. My entire body responds with pure heat. It flows between us.

Where does he end and where do I begin? We have become one.

I don’t know when his fingers find their way deep into my cunt. All I know is that I feel as full as I ever have. I want more. I want all of him.

“If I ask it of you, do you think you can hurt me? Make me feel pain?”

He looks scared but he nods his acquiescence.

I lean close and whisper, “Do it. Hurt me. I want you to!”

He tries, but he fails. Instead of the fire in my nipples or on my skin, I feel nothing but comforting warmth. And instead of sharp stings and bruising sadism, liquid heat flows through my veins. It’s not what I want, but it’s what I need. I writhe against him, desperate to get closer, desperate to meld our bodies together until there’s no way to know where he ends and I begin.

The heat is overwhelming. It blinds me, even as I stroke his cock desperate to start another fire between us.

He pulls his fingers out of my body. I’m shocked by the way they glisten, coated in thick viscous desire, proof of what he’s done to my body. Like a man born to it, he brings his hand to my mouth, and I taste myself.

He’s moving away from me now, but I’m not done. I want more. Where is he going?

And what is that damn beeping sound?

Welcome to Masturbation Monday! That was my strangely erotic dream that woke me with a damp cunt and a desperate need to go back to sleep. I don’t expect I’ll have a Mrs. Robinson kind of moment in my life, but it was an intriguing and very erotic dream. Need more smut? You know where to go and what to do!