Nap Time Fantasies

I’m not one to nap. Unlike John Brownstone, I do not fall asleep easily — hand him a book, and his eyes close almost automatically. Me? I lie awake sometimes for hours. When I decide to nap, I eventually fall into a deep sleep and stay there for several hours, waking up wondering what year it is. But today, I used the sleep/meditation app, Calm, to find out if a short nap was possible. My mind took the opportunity to create its own naptime fantasy.

My current state of not just low, but nearly negative libido, means that sex is rarely on my mind. I forget it exists for days, even weeks, at a time. I’m not totally sex-repulsed, but the wrong touch at the wrong time is an active turn off. At the same time, sex is not an entirely foreign concept. Every so often I think about it. If I read enough smut, I’ll feel a slight but long-remembered pulsing of arousal. And yes, when necessary, I can still conjure sexy imaginings in my head.

To lie in a cool, dark room with my body completely relaxed and my mind drifting in a doze, doesn’t exactly seem like the time for a threesome fantasy, given the current state of my libido, but here we are.

John Brownstone and a man who likely would never imagine a world where he plays a part in my sexual fantasies (a Twitter-crush, if you will). The fantasy plays out in bits and pieces. Nothing fully fleshed out (pardon the pun) but reminiscent of my typical sexual yearnings.

Rough hands. Hot kisses. A warm body pressing into mine, pushing me further into the bed. Hands hold my ankles, spreading my legs. Hands in my hair, yanking and tugging. A soft but firm tongue on one nipple; cruel, sharp pinches on the other. A flogger raining down on my bare skin while the Hitachi is pressed into my clit. Screaming each orgasm into existence. Deep voices teasing and taunting.

Trembling with need and the only fear I truly crave. Desperate for what comes next; petrified I can’t handle it. Fingers deep in my cunt. Cock filling my mouth. Deep voices ask if I want more; if I can handle more. Desperation to be their good girl and to take every bit of the sadistic promise in their voices.

My body pulled, tugged, yanked, pushed, and positioned — all based on some unspoken agreement between them. They know what I need, regardless of what I think I want. They both want to push me, to discover how much I can take.

A fierce possessive kiss, twice over. One partner claims my mouth while the other claims my cunt.

And then…birds start chirping, and my sleep app tells me it’s time to wake up.