Dream Sweet

"Dream sweet," was all his message said. Nothing unusual there. He's been saying good night to her this way for months and months, maybe even nearly a year. No one has been as consistent and loyal as he has been.

Their story was like a cliché found on amateur erotic writing sites. They encountered each other online during a pandemic. They lived just under 2,500 miles away from each other. Google said that it was a 34-hour drive. Clearly too far to mean anything other than a flirtation, an online friendship at most. She abhorred long distance relationships. She just couldn't take them seriously.

Once, she had a 3-week D/s relationship with an online Dom that lived just over 2,500 miles from her. Google placed the drive at 37 hours. He wanted her to shave her pussy. She discovered that shaving was a hard limit for her. At the time she was sleeping with three local lovers. When the Dom asked her to rank her lovers in terms of who was most important to her, she didn't even consider the Dom. She realized then that she didn't think of him as real. She didn't even know his actual first name. He was always Sir and she was either the sub, slut or bitch depending on his mood. She had to update her online profile to indicate she does not and will not shave and she does not do online relationships. Not that anyone actually bothers to read or assess such things before contacting someone.

Lori's "dream sweet" sweetie was articulate and kind. He shared pictures of his outside and let her see his insides through his words and messages. They wrote stories to one another and shared intimacies only the closest of online strangers would share to one another. They shared the heartache of being alone and lonely, of working and keeping busy to pad those feelings that brought sorrow and tears. They shared their desires as well and wrote steamy scenes to one another. Their stories were arousing and kept her connected to her sexy-self during lapses with her in-real-life lovers.

It was nice knowing that someone, somewhere, gave her a metaphorical kiss good night every night to her. Things continued like this, for months. It was a comfort during a very lonely time made even lonelier by a pandemic that kept the world at home for more than a year.

Their erotic scenes were about his kissing and her moaning, about penetrating holes and intense passion. About tasting and devouring. They included the sting of flogging. Of restraints and belts and other pervertibles being used. Orgasms in these stories were long and drawn out, typically rolling from one to the next into an extended frenzy.

She practiced Tantra in her stories to him. Looking deeply into his eyes. Letting him know she found him to be the perfect version of himself at this time. Maintaining eye to eye contact as she slowly removed his clothes and felt every inch of his body and standing still while he did the same with her. In her stories, their lovemaking was focused on the sensual exploration of each other without attaching a goal to their activities. She also used her words to imagine being claimed and collared, of being owned and used. These ideas brought shivers to her sacral chakra and the thoughts alone nearly brought her to orgasm. When she sat writing or reading their messages to each other she could feel the tightening of her pussy and the pulsating rhythm as her sweet juices were being produced.

This was a fun and satisfying relationship for her. She felt privileged to be so close and intimate with him. Sure, there were bumpy times too. A time when he failed to acknowledge a posting or seemed to spend too much time putting thumbs-up on what other people were saying or the pictures they were sharing. These times stung and her feelings got hurt. But somehow she would find the words to describe what she was feeling and was able to practice asking for what she needed. And he was able to help her feel special and desirable and let her know her fears had gotten the best of her.

The day came when she learned he would be traveling very near her, to a community that was only a four-hour drive (as opposed to the 34-hour drive of his home). Would she like to meet? YES! Yes yes yes yes yes!!

And then the eve of their in-real-life meeting came and all he wrote was "dream sweet". Was he crazy? Was this a joke? How was she possibly going to be able to sleep? She wasn't but she tried. She laid in her bed imagining their actual in person meeting for the first time.

She would be sultry and alluring. Her sexy-self would be on full display. He would walk into her hotel room, the door would be left open for him. He would find her in her pretty dress with the animal print background and big blossoms in the foreground. With a neckline that showed off her best assets. She would wear jewelry for him and she would have his favorite music playing in the background. She would sit in the middle of the bed, waiting, staring at the clock, all four pillows up against her back.

Her cards would be displayed out in front of her in neat little rows. She would be mid game, all of her aces were already up at the time and her kings were up with no cards underneath them. It looked like it was going to be a winning run. She was even using her special deck of Bicycle brand cards. It was her favorite deck.

He would walk in. She wouldn't notice at first. He would stand there watching her. She would feel his eyes burning into her and look up. Startled, she would yelp in surprise and he would ask her what she was doing.

After catching her breath and taking a few minutes, she would reply, "Just playing with myself while waiting for you."

Ba-Dum-Bump!