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I close my eyes, expecting her to fall asleep, but there’s a new noise. One I distinctly heard the other night and went to unsuccessful lengths to put out of my mind.

Buzz.

Both eyes snap open. My legs, shoulders, and face freeze, but I’m shamelessly alert and focused on that noise and what it means.

Sophia releases a painfully long unfurling whimper. Her breathing hikes, and the bed squeaks with her movements.

I’m so shocked that I don’t even know how to react. But not my cock. No, the little bastard is rising to stand like the tune Sophia’s mewing to her vibrator is the National fucking Anthem.

My nads scream, “Let’s play ball. Put me in, Coach!”

Just as I’m about to tell her I’m here, her moans intensify on the other side of the flimsy sheet wall. Then my sweet and possibly virginal @SinfulSophia purrs out the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

Between her heavy breathing, she whines, “Yes, Gio. Please. Make me come.”

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sophia

Knight in Tatted Armor

Frustrated, I throw off the covers. I’m boiling hot, and it has nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with a very naughty wet dream.

I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, my toes skimming the floor. I tug at my top, cooling my chest, but it’s not enough. Not only was I dreaming of kissing Gio, but I was one second from enjoying his thick fingertips pressed against my clit, treating me to a dreamy orgasm.

“So close,” I grumble and wipe the drool from my mouth.

I always wake before it happens. But then, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s hard to dream of an orgasm when I haven’t had one in years. I barely remember what it feels like. With my sexual frustration leading me on, I stumble to the bathroom to find my new toy but stop short.

My gaze swivels to the other side of the room. When I hear no breathing, snoring, or rustling of covers, I tiptoe to the sheet wall and carefully draw back the fabric. In the moonlight, I find Gio’s bed empty.

His absence doesn’t mean the coast is clear, though. I glance at the clock. It’s late. So late, he’s probably decided to sleep downstairs again. It’s so late, it’s early. Right now, motivated maniacs are running the beach before they have their immune-boosting green juice and egg-white omelet. There’s a thousand percent chance Gio is one of them.

Either way, I’m thankful to be alone. I’m too worked up not to try for the elusive Mr. Oh-My. And honestly, I might go for it, even if he were here. Even in my half-asleep state, I’m that desperate, that horny.

With the coast clear, I grab my secret toy, open the bathroom door, and flip off the lights. In a few short strides, I’m under the covers again.

My sexy dream replays in my mind. It starts the antagonistic way Gio and I met. Our playful war games shift back and forth. He looks at me the way I look at him. It’s hate, it’s lust, and in my mind, where it’s safe to have forbidden feelings, I’m ready for the next step.

The dream continues at the festival. Gio rescues and carries me to safety like a knight in tatted armor. I slide off his shoulder, and then he inspects me from head to toe. With his eyes so menacing, he looks like he would burn down the world if I were hurt. I suck in a shaky breath, believing he would.

From here, my dream disconnects with reality. Gio pins me against the Jeep’s door. I inhale his scent, his hovering heat, and then find his smoldering gaze. It holds me locked in place. The electricity between us crackles, making me dizzy with desire. The closeness is almost too much to handle.

“No one touches you but me. You’re mine,” Dream Gio whispers over my flushed skin.

I take in his words like nourishment because I’m starved for someone to love me this intensely.

I whimper with relief when Dream Gio’s lips brush over my collarbone, my jaw, and finally my wet and trembling lips. His touch is a promise of everything I’ve ever needed. He sees who I am and adores me: the overly vindictive, the chunks and curves, the bubbly and the sassy, and he craves every part.

He runs toward it.

We meld into a deep kiss. Our bodies press tightly and twist. The weight of him on my chest, my hips, and my thighs make my pussy pulse with want. We are uncontrolled and uncontainable.

I finger the power button on the toy, and it buzzes to life. Against my abdomen, I pretend it’s the length of his hardness behind his pants touching me, rubbing me, waking up every nerve ending, and coaxing open my legs.

My center throbs as the toy dips beneath my panties. I slide the toy’s head down, down, down to the place I need Gio to touch most, the peak of my ache. My breathing quickens, making my mouth dry.

Dream Gio grips my hips, and I undulate into his firmness. Once. Twice. The third time, I mold to him. We are grinding, but the friction still isn’t enough. When his hand slips into my panties, I allow the buzzing toy to touch my clit.