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Figment of Imagination
🌶️A short story of erotic dreams manifest a woman's dark desire.
*****
If you're just a figment of my imagination I want to stay here forever.
I feel I am about to cum again, and I tell you, you speed up again, as I am cumming over your cock, the walls of my pussy clenching and tightening around you, your hand comes down on my ass again, and I scream as I reach the end of my orgasm.
*****
Sometimes without clear and concise thought, there is the action of pleasurable chaos, and for those who are seeking it without knowing, they shall find. The other night started just as any other night in my life...I woke up, I showered...masturbated while in the shower. I had always enjoyed the showerhead...with its many settings and water pressure choices, however it had gotten boring. I seemed to find that getting off just wasn't happening as quickly or as often. Sure I could close my eyes and think of sitting on a mans face until he couldn't breathe and then moving enough to let him catch his breath, and then sitting on his face again while he worked his delicious mouth over my deprived pussy, until I came so hard I was dripping wet without the water.
I could think of the many times it turned me on to be teased by a man with his cock, being tied up and unable to move...hands holding my hips down, while he slid his cock into me...sinking in deep...with short, slow thrusts...making my beg with my eyes for more as I could not speak with the gag in my mouth.
I often thought of riding a stiff hard cock, and gyrating my hips in a circular motion, reverse cowgirl, as deep as I could get...my hair falling over his chest, my head thrown back and body arched. His hands holding my own, distracting him from my bouncing tits, nipples hardened in the cool air. All the while some kind of dark and sexy song is playing in the background of my mind.
But these fantasies were becoming not enough; I needed something tangible...something I could touch. Someone I could touch, who would be a little rough and unafraid to break me, who would give me the darker side of what I had been craving...the fuck of my life. The one I would forever try and replicate or bring to another level. It got me wet just thinking about it. I would squirm in my chair at work thinking about it some days. I felt so dirty, and I liked the feeling. It made me feel powerful.
*****
While putting my clothes on I let my hands trail slowly over my body, caressing each supple breast...rolling my nipples between my fingers, while little sparks of electricity shoot through my sensitive skin from my toes to my pussy and back up my body again.
I caress my neck with light feathery fingers, and then harder I grip the illusion of another's hands on my body entices a fluttery reaction in the pit of my stomach, as it pools deeper, a white hot sensation, that feeling...
*****
If you're just a figment of my imagination I want to stay here forever.
I feel I am about to cum again, and I tell you, you speed up again, as I am cumming over your cock, the walls of my pussy clenching and tightening around you, your hand comes down on my ass again, and I scream as I reach the end of my orgasm.
*****
Sometimes without clear and concise thought, there is the action of pleasurable chaos, and for those who are seeking it without knowing, they shall find. The other night started just as any other night in my life...I woke up, I showered...masturbated while in the shower. I had always enjoyed the showerhead...with its many settings and water pressure choices, however it had gotten boring. I seemed to find that getting off just wasn't happening as quickly or as often. Sure I could close my eyes and think of sitting on a mans face until he couldn't breathe and then moving enough to let him catch his breath, and then sitting on his face again while he worked his delicious mouth over my deprived pussy, until I came so hard I was dripping wet without the water.
I could think of the many times it turned me on to be teased by a man with his cock, being tied up and unable to move...hands holding my hips down, while he slid his cock into me...sinking in deep...with short, slow thrusts...making my beg with my eyes for more as I could not speak with the gag in my mouth.
I often thought of riding a stiff hard cock, and gyrating my hips in a circular motion, reverse cowgirl, as deep as I could get...my hair falling over his chest, my head thrown back and body arched. His hands holding my own, distracting him from my bouncing tits, nipples hardened in the cool air. All the while some kind of dark and sexy song is playing in the background of my mind.
But these fantasies were becoming not enough; I needed something tangible...something I could touch. Someone I could touch, who would be a little rough and unafraid to break me, who would give me the darker side of what I had been craving...the fuck of my life. The one I would forever try and replicate or bring to another level. It got me wet just thinking about it. I would squirm in my chair at work thinking about it some days. I felt so dirty, and I liked the feeling. It made me feel powerful.
*****
While putting my clothes on I let my hands trail slowly over my body, caressing each supple breast...rolling my nipples between my fingers, while little sparks of electricity shoot through my sensitive skin from my toes to my pussy and back up my body again.
I caress my neck with light feathery fingers, and then harder I grip the illusion of another's hands on my body entices a fluttery reaction in the pit of my stomach, as it pools deeper, a white hot sensation, that feeling...
