Fucking Fantasy

A hand slipped so gently under my top. Lightly playing with my nipples. Breath, warm and heavy in my hair, on my neck. Face blushing, pussy flushing. Lips swollen and moist, like dew on the grass in the morning. Caresses leaving me pantyless. Fingers dipping in and out of my pool. Wetter and wetter, increasing like the heaviness of my breath. His warmth coming from behind. I led him into me. Making us one, so close, but not close enough. Thrusting himself deeper into me. Not deep enough. I pulled away from him. Pushed him onto his back. I spread my legs over him. Feeling him sink into me with every inch. Slowly I rose and fell, gripping his cock with every muscle in my pussy. He grabbed my tits, squeezing them harder and harder with every move I made. We fucked to the sounds of moans, panting, and the squeaking of the bed, as if it was our own symphony. His hands moved down to my hips. He held on tightly as he pushed himself in to me a few more times. We both came. Exploded. Wetness soaking our bodies and the bed. I slipped off of him. Began kissing him. His lips. His neck. His chest. Running my finger through the hairy line just above his cock. Then I took him into my mouth. Sighs and groans. I lay my sweaty body next to his. Listening to the silence enwrap us. The room was hot with stale air and the smell of sex. And so we slept.

Then I woke up from that dream. Love is a cunt, when all you want is sex. I really need to get laid.