Man of my Dreams

I shuffle under the covers. It's a cold night outside, but I'm starting to feel sweaty under the covers. I hear the wind thrashing against the siding, yet another factor contributing to my restlessness. Why I decided to leave temperate, amazing Florida for the cold of the Northeast, I have no idea. Oh wait, it's Christmas. So I find myself here in my childhood room, with no one to share my bed but a stuffed bear.

Well, it's not as if I had someone in my bed in Florida. It's been a quiet couple months for me. I don't know why, I feel like I've been putting myself out there. Hmm, maybe it's how I'm looking these days. I picture myself and work through my features, top to bottom. I'm working on growing my hair longer-- dark red and straight, its now reaching to the middle of my back. I've been spending money on make-up, so my hazel eyes really look good. My chest looks as good as ever, I guess; still a 34DDD. I'm like, half boob, but it's something I've learned to deal with. Ah--my tummy. I'm a little bit softer than I used to be or want to be. I'm still a size six, maybe 135 pounds, but it doesn't feel good enough. Oh, well-- the new year is approaching, the perfect time for new starts.

I flip over on my stomach. Ugh, I wish there was something I could do! I shuffle around on the bed. Hmm, there's an idea. I roll my hips into the bed, trying to feel the pressure of the mattress against my clit. I'm wearing pajama pants, but I can feel the pressure, the tingle starting, even now. I grind against the bed, bunching the blanket beneath me to get better contact with my clit. My breathing changes, I start to exhale with more force than I inhale. I close my eyes and put my face into the pillow, willing myself to forget the wind, forget the cold, just escape into the feeling.

I get an idea; I know what I need to get my juices flowing. I roll over the edge of the bed, into my bag. Lubricant--never leave home without it. I slip my top over my head and settle on my back, allowing my fingers to gently tease my nipples, letting them bloom, flushing dark in the soft glow of my room. I move my hand, squeezing as much of my breast I can, although it is not much. I put two hands together, gripping tightly, trying to encompass just one breast within my grasp, but failing completely.

That's all just foreplay. I know what spot I need to hit, where I'm yearning to be touched. I squeeze lube onto my fingers and bring them to my clit. The liquid feels cool, but warms quickly to my body. I rub one finger along the side of my clit, finger resting on the space between my clit and its protective hood. It's the soft, subtle touch that really gets me excited. As my left hand works between my legs, my right hand is back to my nipples, this time pinching and pulling, sending shocks through my system.

I can feel it so well, so vividly--my slippery inner lips, smooth and soft, slick as they join at my clit. What I can't feel, however, is my own excitement; I'm shifting lube around my pussy, but not my own juices, not as much as I've come to expect. I slide a finger into my pussy. I'm wet and wanting, my pussy holding tight to my finger. I slide it in and out, even rubbing my clit with other hand, but I can't find satisfaction.

I know what missing--a man. No, not one in my bed, although, of course, that would be preferable. A man of my dreams, someone in my mind who will treat me exactly how I've always wanted to be treated. Someone who will touch me, with a strong hand, a strong will, but a soft touch. Someone who guide me, show me, lead the way, and yet make me feel as if we've gotten there together.

I run through the list of culprits in my head, the collection of boys and men I have built up over the years. Each have their merits, but flaws too, ones that made it impossible to be together. And tonight, I don't want to relive the past. I want to think of the future. I want to imagine the man that's right around the corner, ready to fulfill my every desire.

I wonder-- is it you?

Will you come into my room, shutting the door quietly behind you. You stare at me in the low light, smiling because you've caught me with my hand between my legs. Your naughty little girl. My breath catches in my throat as you make slow, careful movements towards the bed. I have no idea what you have planned for me, could never imagine.

You don't disappoint--you stretch out your arm and grab the blankets, pulling them off of me in one fluid motion. My sweaty body flushes in the sudden chill. Your eyes take me in, my pale skin, my hard, pink nipples, the red trimmed bush between my legs. My breathing is uneven as I wait to see what you will do next.

You drop the robe from your body and let it pile on the floor. I notice your broad shoulders, your bare chest, but I can't tear my eyes from your cock. It's pointing straight at me, solid and strong, just like you, making you desire for me very clear. You walk over to the bed and lay on top me. My legs spread for you instantly and without protest. Your weight settles on top of me, warm and welcome. Your face is inches from mine, so close to kissing me, I can't stand it. I would squirm around if I could, but your cock is nestled against my pussy, and I know if I move, I will do it in such a way that you slide into me; I won't be able to help it. I am under you, under your body and under your control, and I yield to your judgment, to your rule.

I am yours.

You can tell that I am close, that I have brought myself to the very edge. But I need you. Need you to guide me, need you to push me. Only you can get me there. You kiss me, your tongue pushing into my mouth. Our lips slip over each other as I struggle to take a full breath, but you won't let me. Your lips are full against mine when you flex your hips and plunge your cock into me. I moan against your mouth as I finally feel full, experience what my own fingers were failing to provide. You're halfway in, and you pull away before pushing back into me completely. It feels... well, there are no words to describe how you feel inside me. You have warmed me, inside and out.

You thrust your hips, fucking me forcefully. But you know I can take it. I meet you with each thrust, gripping your shoulders, gasping into neck as I keep you close to me. Your body rubs against my clit, exciting me and making me even wetter. I am gushing around you. You grind against me. I love this, when your cock stays buried inside me as much as possible. I clench my pussy around you, tightening up. I hear you growl into my ear; i knew you would feel it. You fuck me deeper; not faster, no, but you draw out your movements, the slide of your dick, the pressure on my clit. Your movements are deliberate, precise.

All of a sudden, I'm there; it's as if a fuse has been lit. I am going to come. You are going to make me come. I start gasping your name, repeatedly. It's slow, the climb to the final summit, before the explosion takes me. I urge you to continue, but you need no encouragement; you're right there with me. I can feel your dick stiffening, ready to shoot your cum inside me. You know what it will take, the final bit I need to hear, to let go and come around you.

"Come for me, baby," you command.

I do come for you, immediately. I am coming so hard, I forget where I am, crying out before clamping my lips shut and bottling the sounds in my throat. You're groaning, too, holding still as you cum inside me. I am thrusting my pussy against you, up from the bed, trying to keep you inside me, as deep as possible, for as long as I have you. I know, I know, as my mind begins to clear, as I begin to come down from my high, you will leave me.

I take my hand from between my thighs. Just like that, I have shattered my own illusion. I can only fool myself for so long. I lay my head back, breath calming, but I can't help but whimper. I have to have more.

Oh, won't you come into my room?