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I felt his thick cock through his pants, and it made me wet between my legs.
He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. His lips fell to my neck, nibbling and sucking and biting my skin. Shit. It felt so good. Too good. My legs began to tremble at the warmth of his tongue.
“Who are you?” I asked breathlessly.
He didn’t answer me.
He pinned my wrists with one hand before he yanked my skirt away with the other. He ripped it away like it was a pathetic piece of scrap. He kicked my legs apart with his foot before he reached between my legs, cupping my juicy pussy. He chuckled at my wet panties that clung to my skin. He fisted them and ripped them off, causing me to gasp as the cold air hit my dripping entrance.
“Tell me your name,” I whispered.
He lapped at my earlobe, pulling it between his lips. I shivered against him as his hand slid down the globe of my ass and worked its way between my legs. He ground his clothed cock against me as his fingers parted my pussy folds. I dripped onto his skin as he chuckled in my ear.
“Please tell me,” I moaned.
He shook his head against my neck and buried it into my shoulder as his finger found my clit. He circled it and triggered a flood of juices that poured from my body. I bucked against him, writhed against his strong, chiseled form. His cock was practically ready to burst in his pants and shoot cum all over the tight jeans he raked along my skin.
“Tell me. Tell me, please.”
But instead of telling me his name so I could cry it out with my orgasm, he slowly walked his fingers to my virginal entrance.
My eyes whipped open as sweat dripped down my brow. The darkness of my room consumed me as I looked over at my clock. Five in the morning, a good hour and a half before my alarm was set to go off. I groaned when I went to move, as my legs ached from the tension the dream had put me under. I felt a wet spot underneath my body and grimaced at the way my clit pulsed between my legs. Closing my eyes, I sighed as I imagined myself back in the dream.
I tweaked my nipples and worked my panties off my body. I tossed the wet fabric to the side, not getting as much satisfaction as when my dream man had ripped them from my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to find his face, tried to interject myself back into the dream so I knew who was behind me, who was commanding me, whose body felt so good pressed against mine.
But no matter how I focused, I couldn’t conjure the memory of his face.
My fingers slipped between my dripping pussy folds, and I began to work my magic. I remembered his breath on my neck, his hands on my ass, the way he pinned my hands above my head, the contrast of the brick wall and his soft skin, the way he nibbled on my shoulder. Fuck. His fingers had worked my clit expertly, swirling and pressing and moving side to side.
“Oh, yes. A little more. Just a little to the—”
My legs locked up and my jaw unhinged. I swallowed my sounds as I tried to keep myself quiet. I whimpered out into my room, feeling juices slide down the crack of my ass. My thighs squeezed together, stopping my trembling fingers from going further, from exploring the tightness my entrance boasted of. Sometimes I wondered. I thought about what it might feel like to be full of something while I came, but then a secretive terror would wash over my body.
As my orgasm receded, I collapsed on the bed and panted for air, my thoughts changing a thousand times a second. Was I really that scared of penetration? I mean, it was only penetration, but my fear had been powerful enough to rip me from that dream before my mystery man had had a chance to take that from me.
But for a split second in my dream, I had wanted it.
I shook the thought from my mind as I slipped from bed. I ripped the sheets off and dragged them to my washer, then stuffed them inside. I needed a shower. I needed a hot cup of coffee. I also needed to cool down from my dream. I started the washer on a hot cycle and resolved myself to a cold shower.
I shivered as the water poured over me. I quickly washed and cleaned myself up for work. I had plenty of time to get ready this morning thanks to that fun little dream of mine. I wanted to know who was in the dream, though. I wanted to know who the man was. I closed my eyes as the cold water washed my conditioner away and tried to conjure his face, but the only thing I could conjure was his chuckle and the way his hand had felt cupping the whole of my pussy.
