1 comments/ 17871 views/ 2 favorites Dreams of Her By: JCom The room was almost dark. A single candle flickered on the nightstand, casting shadows that danced upon the walls. The circle of light radiating from the flame barely illuminated the furniture; they were just shapeless silhouettes scattered around the room. The far corner held fast and hid in the darkness, almost as if it were harboring some intricate secret that was threatened by any invasion of light. It wasn't the room that mattered to him as he laid upon the bed. The sheets, cool and damp from the humidity contrasted with the heat emanating from his naked body. He was slowly stroking himself, giving in to the jolts of pleasure that bolted through his body as every upstroke touched the head of his swelling erection. He was oblivious to his surroundings, for right now he was alone in his thoughts, drifting in dreams. The world beyond himself ceased to exist for... ...he was watching her. She was laying upon the bed completely naked. Her fingers slowly caressing herself. He watched her hands cup her rounded breasts, kneading them and lightly pinching her nipples, enticing them to stand erect with pleasure. She was beautiful. Her liberation, her sexuality, everything about her turned him on, he wanted everything she had to offer. A slight... ...gasp escaped his lips as he started twisting his fist around the head. As the other hand gently tickled his balls he started stroking up and down the long shaft. At the end of each down stroke, he would squeeze the base of his cock forcing the blood to rush to the head and make it swell. As his hand made the accent back up, his thumb would rub over the tip, sending tiny electrical shocks which would make him twitch. Long, slow, exaggerated strokes; he wasn't in a hurry. He wanted to tease himself, make it last as long as possible, for deep in his thoughts, he was right where he wanted to be;... ...with her. Her hands moved down, as her legs slowly spread apart, revealing her. Exposing her. Little beads of moisture were glistening on her pink folds. He watched her as her fingers spread her lips apart and slowly run the length of her slit. She dipped one finger inside of herself and bought it to her mouth. She looked at him with eyes full of passion as she sucked on her finger, tasting herself. Her other hand was making slow circles around her engorged clit, her bright red nail polish contrasting against the soft pink of her center only heightened the visual eroticism. She ran her fingers through her hair which flowed from her head and laid in tangled strands upon the sheets. He watched her fingers as... ...he increased the speed of his strokes. His hand, coated with silky lotion which began to warm up from the friction. As his other hand began to knead his smooth ball sac, his hips began to involuntary move up and down, trying to maximize each stroke. With his hand tightly clamped around the pulsating shaft he could feel all the ripples and ridges. The veins were criss crossed and engorged to the point of bursting. He was hard, very hard. She had that effect on him. His lust and desire for her was overwhelming, there was so much pent up passion. He needed release; he needed to cum. As the pleasure of the constant stimulation started taking over his body, he increased the speed of his strokes. He was breathing hard now from the physical exertion. His thoughts were focused on one thing and that was... ...her. He continued to watch her pleasure herself. The fingers of one hand focused on her swollen clit. She spread her folds, which were completely covered with her wetness, with her other hand. He could see her entrance. He wanted to be inside of her, to become a part of her. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him; her inner velvet walls grasping at his hard member. He just wanted to be as close as possible, to share himself with her. To love her. Two hearts, one beat. Hell, at that moment, he wanted to be her, to know her pleasure, to know what she was feeling. He watched... ...his hand moving furiously up and down his shaft, pumping, as if it were a lever to some internal well deep inside his loins. He had one goal now and that was release. The pressure building inside of him, a boiler overheating and ready to explode. His cock was starting to convulse and he could feel the contractions spread to his balls. Every muscle in his body clenched as he fought the impending eruption. His concentration wavered, he shifted back and forth from his thoughts to his task in hand. The strokes were fast and furious now. His shaft expanded inside of his fist, the pressure was building. He did not want to let go yet, he tried to focus... ...on her. Her fingers moving up and down on her swollen nub as fast as his hand was moving up down the length of his hardness. Her eyes were half closed and she was moaning softly. She was going to cum too. He wanted her to cum with him. He... ...used all his strength to try to hold back the flood. His hips ground into the mattress. There was no turning back now, his orgasm was here. He grunted as he tried to keep up the pace of his strokes. His thoughts lost all cohesion as his mind was lost in the whirlwind of emotion and pleasure. His long drawn out thoughts became flashes of images. He was... ...trying to focus on her... ...her soft moans as she started to cum... ...the rising of her breasts in the height of her passion... ...beads of sweat pooling upon her skin as... ...his strokes became faster and more forceful. He was... ...touching her smooth skin... ...interlocking hands... ...his love for her... ...holding her... ...as he gasped and finally had to let go, his body contracted hard; violently. He felt the contractions ripple all the way up his shaft. The internal boiler exploded, but not like one big explosion, these were rolling waves. They started from every point in his body and flowed to his pulsating cock and straight up the shaft. Each contraction causing him to shoot his milky white seed. Before each contraction could finish, another started. He then felt the hot wets drops rain on his chest. He continued stroking himself, but as each contraction passed, his strokes became more erratic and slowed down until he was softly caressing himself. His orgasm was finally dying down and his breathing started to slow. A sense of relaxation washed over him as he felt himself floating back down to reality. The residual charge of the powerful orgasm still made him twitch. A soft smile spread on his lips as he laid back, not caring about the mess; he closed his eyes and in the light of the flickering candle, among the dancing shadows, he... ...thought of her. Dreams of Honey The following is an actual letter I received from my high school sweetheart after we went to college in separate states. This was around 15 years ago, well before email and PMs and other instant forms of electronic gratification. Back in the good old days when the written word was really written and you hoped to god your yearning letter of passion didn’t end up in some disgruntled postal worker’s yard. I don’t know if transcribing this for your eyes is an act of betrayal, celebration or simply self-indulgence, but it’s therapeutic for me, I suppose. And I want to record this while I still can – the paper in Lori’s original letter is yellowing and her curly cursive fading. To help set the scene, know that Lori was a virgin when we met. A brilliant math and science geek, she had no sexual experience whatsoever. But she was a quick and eager study, and she explored her sensuality with the same vigor with which she attacked her lab projects. Tall, blond and rail thin, she had a great ass and a curious nature. She was willing to humor any of my teen fantasies. She rented an anal-themed porn for my 18th b-day. We read Anais Nin and Penthouse Letters together in bed. We fucked everywhere, and all the time. She even claimed to be willing to have a threesome with her hottie best friend (which, unfortunately, never happened). With her youth and total lack of expectations she didn’t know enough to be inhibited. Now I’m warning you: Her fantasy isn’t especially explicit, it’s not the most erotic prose you’ll see and it’s certainly not that descriptive. Hell, it’s unlikely you’ll get off reading it. But it is true. And try to picture this: Imagine a shy, reserved 18-year-old alone in her dorm room late at night, wondering how to please the boy she loves. Imagine the horny, lonely boy’s surprise when he opens the envelope to find this letter. Surprise! I can’t believe I actually wrote this! Mmmmm. Lori awoke once again with her hands between her legs. It had been a glorious dream, a dream of honey, and it was the third time this week the same dream had filled her subconscious. It began with Andy and her completely naked. God how she loved his body, his chest. And his chest is where she would start with the honey, writing “I want you” before smearing it around with her own breasts. Ever-so-gently she would begin to lick him clean, using only the tip of her tongue while rubbing her breasts against his chest, his legs, his hard sex. Then she would start to draw on herself with the honey, dripping it down her shoulders, over her already stiff nipples and all over her belly. From the way she was sitting on Andy she could feel his penis throbbing between her legs. She wanted to grind down on top of him so badly and feel him deep within her womb. But they hadn’t yet had their 32 prescribed minutes of foreplay, and she knew he would make her wait. She smeared honey all over herself and Andy joined in, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples. Andy took her arms and spread them wide, exposing her to his intense gaze. He knew just how to turn her on. Soon he was on top and she on the bottom. He spread her arms and legs eagle-style and tied them to the bedposts. He sat with his heavy penis weighing on her belly and began to lick some of the honey off her tingling skin. His penis was hot and throbbing and it was well past 32 minutes. She wanted him. “Now,” she moaned. He chuckled. “Be still,” he said in answer to her pulsating hips. He moved so that his head was between her legs and began to blow gently on her moist, steaming flesh. The coolness of his breath made her even hotter for him. She tried to position her sex closer to his mouth. “Be still,” he warned again. She wanted him to eat her out. He was so good at licking her and she wanted to come. He began to tease her sex with the tip of his tongue. She moaned, begging him to put his penis inside her. She couldn’t wait. He answered by turning around and sticking his sex in her mouth. He tasted so good. She tried to get as much of him as possible in her mouth, in her throat. She wanted him to groan with pleasure. His tongue was now inside her, his fingers spreading her wide. She felt exposed again and shivered. She wanted him so badly. Just as she was about to come, he pulled his mouth away. “Please!” she moaned. He untied one of her hands and directed it to her vagina. Putting his penis in her mouth once more, he watched as she began teasing her own sex, finding the spot she knew would lead her quickly to orgasm. Just as she was about to come, he began to eat her out again, but this time not slowly or teasingly. She came in his face over and over, her hips jerking and her muscles clenching. “Now it’s my turn,” he said. Andy turned around and drove into her. Hard. He placed a pillow under her bottom so that he could go deep, his girth stretching her. No one and nothing else had touched those intimate places far inside her passage – the passage to her soul. She was his. With the next plunge Lori came again, and soon Andy followed, his piercing eyes locking on hers as he filled her with his seed. Then she woke up, wet. The itch was still there. Dreams and fingers were no substitute for the real thing. She would have to wait for him. Oh my gosh! I’m sorry that was so crude, but I’m so horny tonight. I miss you very much. I wish I could sleep with you. By the way, don’t you owe me a story? I’ll try to do better next time. Love, Lori P.S. I want you so badly right now, in case you couldn’t tell!