It Was All a Dream

Where am I? Where is that music coming from?

Warm hands stroke my skin. I know there are only two hands but somehow they touch every inch of my body all at once.

Laughter echoes down a long hallway. Do we need to hide? Will anyone see us? Who is “us?”

A tongue laps at my nipples. First one, then the other. My head falls back against the wall. It’s the only thing keeping me upright.

I blink, and I’m in my old college lit class. Oh shit, do I have a paper due?

Fingers push into my flesh. A thumb circles my clit. My hips buck against his hands. Our tongues dance together, teeth nipping and sucking at each other’s lips.

The professor drones on in the background. Can he see us? Does he even care? Fuck, I need to work on that paper or it’ll be late! I blink again, and my boss (wait, I don’t have a boss anymore!) hands me a stack of paperwork.

I’m bent over my desk. The edge digs into my thighs. My head is yanked back as his cock slides in deep. With each thrust, the thick wooden desk knocks against the wall.

Why is everyone walking through my office? How can I file these reports while I’m being fucked? Ugh, my boss is such an ass.

I’m on my knees, eyes watering as I choke around his shaft. He slaps my face from time to time before stroking my cheek and wiping away the tears from my eyes. That tender motion spreads black mascara across my face. “You’re my dirty whore, and you love it.” I want to respond with, “Hell yes, I fucking love it” but all I manage is a satisfied hum. For once my knees don’t hurt. My throat doesn’t hurt. The only sensation I notice is the glide of silken steel across my tongue.

“Did you find everything okay today, ma’am?” I say yes even though I know I spent 10 minutes searching for mushrooms. Why were they so hard to find?! Wait…wasn’t I just at work?

My face is covered in dried spit and ruined make-up. He stands next to me, smiling indulgently, as I fumble with my credit card to pay for our groceries. Only we know that his hand is hidden under my ridiculously short skirt, his fingers stroking my labia. Only we know that my panties are in his pocket, and cum seeps down my inner thigh. No one seems to care that my clothes barely cover my body or that I’m a wreck as I totter out of the store on wobbly legs. Nor will they care when he bends me over the trunk of the car and finger-fucks me while I cry and beg…for more? for him to let me orgasm? for him to stop? Does it even matter?

A horn beeps in time with the rhythm he sets with his hands. My cunt throbs. The beeping won’t stop. Will it ever stop? Will I ever get the orgasm my swollen clit promises is on the way? Fucking hell, that incessant beeping is driving me crazy!!

I wake up and turn off my alarm.

I’m behind on my prompt writing (and I still have TWO more books with 31 prompts each!) but this one was a fun one to write! The purpose of this prompt was to write a dream sequence where the only coherent part was the sex. I’ll let y’all decide if I did it justice.

We also have a new book of prompts out now for Masturbation Month! If you want to celebrate everything involving self-pleasure and solo sex in your writing, check out 31 Days of Masturbation!