Sometimes a dream feels so real, it’s hard for me to believe it isn’t. I can’t help but think dream people are out there somewhere, doing dream things. The man standing behind me who startles me and I yell, the kid I send to search for a lost blue glove I dropped in a river, the girlfriend I long for and left a letter for, at the end of the world.
I started telling my spouse this fantasy the other day, while we were having sex. It’s vivid and erotic, with a lot of energy behind it, I think because it’s so realistic. As if it’s already happened in another dimension, or could happen in this dimension in a second.
Today when we were having sex, I asked for a request for a story, and he said this one, so I told it again. I was glad he asked, because this was the story I wanted to tell.
In regular life, our friend was over to talk with me, crying, and I listened to her. Was surprised when she started talking about sex, something complicated about sex, injury, and love lost between her and her husband. I never liked that guy.
I felt kind of honored she was talking about sex with me. Also, how annoyed I felt, that her asshole husband was not making love with this beautiful lady. I have no respect for his disrespect!
I wished I could hug her as she cried. Felt stupid to stand six feet away, wearing a mask. I imagined comforting her.
How easy it seemed. How easy it would be, to kiss her and hold her, make love with her–her beautiful lively body, her energetic mind, the passion glowing in her heart. Loving her beautiful breasts and life-giving cunt. A continuation of what we already do, but more extreme. A joy to imagine.
one type of help
Then I was thinking she could leave her husband and move in with us, share a duplex with us. One day toward the beginning of her stay, she would text my spouse, asking him to come help her with something.
He would be happy to drop what he was doing, imagining our friend needed assistance with a bookshelf or appliance. He’s a good person and knows people need help. Spatially gifted, he can assemble and fix things pretty well.
When he knocked, she’d open the door completely naked. She would pull him inside, close the door, and hold him. The sexual desire she felt would be very obvious. He would feel surprised at first, but glad to hold this beautiful naked woman.
“Thank you for coming over,” she would say, pushing her vulva against him. “I needed you.”
He would have his arms around her, around her waist, amazed how beautiful she was, more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. He’d hold her, feeling the softness of her skin, totally wordless, not knowing what to say.
But his dick would harden in his pants, and he wouldn’t need to say anything. She would kiss his mouth and move her hand down, feeling his erection, then unzip his pants, pulling them down, kneeling to suck his dick.
“Is this ok?” she’d ask, not waiting for an answer. My spouse would lean against the door as she took him deep into her mouth and sucked at him with the enthusiasm that the situation would suggest.
She had been pushed by loneliness and hormonal need. She’s young and filled with the energy of life and sexual stirrings. Of course she could feel my spouse on the other side of the wall, a good person, affectionate and loyal to me.
Of course she had imagined him holding her many times, and pushing his dick into her as hard as he could, plowing the fertile field of her cunt with his large, trustworthy dick, thrusting into her tender body, and healing something in her that needed him.
She would lie in bed alone, rubbing herself, wanting him powerfully. She would come on her hand, gasping, thinking of his smile and awkward beauty. It didn’t seem worth it, to actually try to have sex with him, but one day, she decided she couldn’t be alone anymore.
In her living room, right by the front door, she touched his balls, held his ass in her hands, and sucked him fast. She had blown several men in her life, but never someone who had been so kind to her. He seemed different from other men, and she was sorry he was married to me, one of her closest friends. She wanted to try having a life with someone like this. But for now, she would find comfort in his body.
She didn’t want to keep him at her place for a long time. She looked up at him, and his eyes were closed. Slowing down, she kept looking up. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, quietly moaning, and they made eye contact. She touched his balls and felt them pull up into his body, and he closed his eyes again as he shot his load down her throat.
She accepted his semen down her throat, holding tighter to his ass as he ejaculated, and she kept him near her, as his breathing slowed and dick softened in her mouth.
Then she stood up and pulled his pants up for him. He zipped them, and she opened the door to push him outside.
“Wow, what just happened?” he thought. He didn’t know what to do–he loved the experience, but it was not discussed or approved. Maybe not so safe, either.
He went for a walk around the block, not knowing what to do. Should he tell her, that was not appropriate? How could he bring up the subject with me? He didn’t want to upset me or ruin any friendships.
When he got home, he was distracted by what was going on with me, and he decided to talk to me about it later.
That night, he lay in bed as I was sleeping, thinking about the surprise blowjob, touching his dick as he remembered her mouth, her soft naked body in his arms. It was like a fantasy but had really happened. Did it really happen? It was so fast, probably less than ten minutes.
He beat off, thinking of her, wanting her, so nearby. He thought about messaging her to ask if she needed help with anything. But he felt vulnerable and instead beat off more intensely, then came in his hand, his heart pounding and aching with love.
The next day, he was jumpy, thinking about her. He wanted her to text him again. But part of him wanted it to have been a one-time thing, insignificant. He didn’t hear from her and tried to forget about how her mouth felt around his disk, her tongue rubbing the underside, the slurping sounds she made eagerly.
Three days later, he looked at his phone and saw she had messaged him. He dropped what he was doing and went to her door.
She was naked like the last time, pulled him inside, and embraced him. She seemed afraid, her fear and sexual desire mixed together. “I’ve been wanting you,” she said. “Thank you for coming over again.”
He didn’t know where to put his hands and touched her sides and her shoulders. She was delighted to feel cared for and close to him. She smelled his neck and kissed his mouth. Their bodies were very warm. Her cunt was hot, which he felt through his clothes as she rubbed against him.
She pulled him to the couch and sat down, unzipped his pants again, and nuzzled his erection. She put her lips to it gently and kissed him there. He shivered and pressed his dick to her mouth. She opened it and accepted the tip, tightly between her lips. Then she licked the head gently.
Again he pushed himself toward her, wanting deeper into her mouth. She sucked at just the head, and he liked that. She slowly rubbed him with her tongue, considering in her body what she really wanted, as she thoughtfully felt with her lips and tongue that ridge, where the head meets the shaft.
“Will you take off your clothes?” she asked. He set his glasses on the coffee table, took off his shirt, slipped off his shoes, and eased his pants off. He moved toward her and wanted to hold her, that way, to feel his whole body with hers.
“Will you…?” She pushed him into the couch. He lay on his back, so pretty there, with his dick sticking up. Her body wanted him inside, so she climbed onto him. He was surprised but willing, as she rubbed her cunt onto his erection.
He realized she was going to push his dick into her hole, and he wondered if that was a good idea, as she positioned her opening and began to rub the head of his dick against her there. The previous days, he’d imagined another blow job. This was more. He thought of me, as the heat of her wet cunt began to envelop him, and he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his eyes rolling back into his head.
Her cunt felt maximum exciting to his dick. He let her use his body. He was perfectly willing to lie back and let her grind on him. She was beautiful and intent, as he looked up at her, at her gorgeous tits moving with the rhythm of her pushing lower body.
She began to grunt, as she moved her tits closer to his face and rubbed her clit on the base of his dick. He thought she might come soon. He hadn’t made a woman come other than me in a long time.
Curiously, he felt his body want to come in her, as he watched her ride him faster, and her face became a grimace of too much feeling, but she was getting what she wanted.
Her cunt clenched around his dick, and her back arched as she moaned and came on him. He reached up to touch her tits, then leaned back and pushed his dick up harder into her, lifting her off the couch as she bent forward and thrashed side to side, feeling the orgasm shake her.
Her cry of “Oo, oo, ooo!” was like a sob of pain, and he wanted to come in her really badly. As her cunt began to slow its squeezing, he began to ejaculate into her, and he looked up at her as he pushed everything he had into her.
It was tender and very animal. This definitely was not within the parameters of any agreements he had with me. He realized he didn’t even know where a condom was, and he had just shot his entire load into this beautiful vibrant goddess of a friend, as she looked down, not making eye contact with him, and climbed off him.
out the door
He dressed, and she pushed him out the door again. Wow, he realized he had really made a mistake this time. At home, he took a shower and put his clothes in the laundry basket, realizing his body smelled like hers. He started the laundry and felt confused the rest of the day.
Why was he doing this, when he knew he shouldn’t? Would it really be so difficult to tell me what had happened? Of course I would understand. He didn’t have the energy to begin the conversation or deal with my feelings, when he was struggling with his own feelings.
That night again he was lying in bed and couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her. His hard dick could remember perfectly the sensation of her cunt clutching it as she came, so he beat off, wanting her to climb on him again, wishing she would text him right then and ask for more from his body.
Two days later, it happened again. “Please lick me,” she asked, naked on the couch, her legs spread. He kissed her thighs, getting used to the idea of putting his tongue into this lady he had never gone down on before.
Her cunt was slippery and smelled so happy to him. He lightly kissed her clit and began to gently rub it with this tongue. She responded with gladness. Comfortable, he relaxed into the task of getting her off, in this intimate way, and his dick throbbed as he worked toward her orgasm with his mouth, licking harder as she whimpered and panted.
“God, yeah,” she said. “Please, yes. Oh god, I really want it. Feels so good. Please, let me come. Let me come for you.”
Slower and faster, he pleased her, almost manipulatively, knowing what he was doing from years of experience with many people, including me. She felt cared for and close to him, stubbornly loving him, as he pressed her legs open.
Then she neared orgasm, and let him make her come, wave after wave crashing in her, first fearfully. Then she completely offered up her cunt, as it pulsated, open and for that moment completely his.
His dick wanted into her, and when her cries became quiet murmurs, he climbed between her legs and pushed his dick on her vulva. It was dripping with her cunty perfume and his saliva. He eased himself into her, slowly sliding into her superwet cunt, so easily.
She was completely satisfied from coming on his tongue, flooded with pleasure, and very relaxed as he pumped himself in and out of her. Almost half asleep, she accepted his thrusts. He used her tenderly.
She listened to his breathing change as he got closer to coming, she felt excited again, and she shifted her pelvis to take his thrusts deeper. Pushing back against him, she looked into his face. His eyes were closed and lips pushed together–he was feeling every sensation of the experience of being joined with her, sexual union.
Unknown, if he would ever fuck her again. Unknown why she was wanting him–experiences, not explained. She wanted him, and he gave her his body, undefined. It felt like an extension of their usual friendship, but with these deeper needs being filled, and different risks also.
He lowered his chest closer to hers, and she hugged him as he groaned and ejaculated into her, serious and exact, pushing completely into her and no longer thrusting, his dick mostly still, as his semen pulsed into her deepest place.
She accepted it as the animal offering that it is. In that moment, she mattered to him. He was honoring her with his body, in the ancient way she was hoping for.
Not sure where the story goes from here. He can’t keep fucking her like this indefinitely. Eventually, something would change. She would make a demand, or guilt would get to him. The lack of communication was not a good idea. Who knows who else she was doing it with, and how safe they were being. My spouse would need to tell me.
Or maybe she would find a partner, not needing my spouse anymore. The new boyfriend would move in, and my spouse would hear her come for him, through the wall, recognizing the rhythm and pitch of her moans.
Some nights he would think of her. He would feel slightly lonely and touch his own body, wishing it was her. As I slept, he would masturbate, hearing the small sound of his own hand rubbing his dick, and remember how her cunt felt, squeezing him as she came.
He would come for her, though she was not there, trying to love her. Maybe it reached her somehow, in a subtle way. It was a weird secret that nourished something in him that had nothing to do with me.