Always His, Part 1

“Oh my God,” I whisper as I feel the wetness of his tongue as he dips it into my navel. I feel myself grow wetter in anticipation of just where he’s going to put that tongue next. I try to open my eyes, but I can still see nothing. Either the lights are out, or I’m blindfolded; I can’t be entirely sure what. I can only feel his hands as they gently push my thighs further apart, and his glorious tongue as it slips from between his teeth and into my warm, wet pussy. A few licks later, and he’s tracing it along my clit. I whip my head from side to side, silently begging him for more, ever more.
“There will always be more,” he coos, his voice deep. It seems to resonate from him and into my very core, drawing a slight gasp from me. “Always,” he adds for emphasis before again burying his face between my legs and forcing his tongue deeper inside me than ever.
“Liar,” I groan in anger as I feel myself torn away from him yet again. The sensations that felt so real soon dissolve into the feelings of my comforter and sheets as I realize yet again that it is morning, and that my lover doesn’t exist. I shift slightly from my position on the bed; the same one as in the dream: lying on my back, legs spread apart, and my arms folded neatly by my head. The only difference is that there’s no man tonsil-deep in my pussy.
As I move my leg, I feel something cold and wet in the bed. I toss away the comforter to find a decent-sized wet spot soaked into the bed. Crap, I think to myself, I pissed the bed. Curious I touch the spot; it’s still soaked, so it’s fairly recent. Remembering that I don’t sleep in underwear, I remove my finger from the wet spot and touch the outer lips of my pussy: they’re soaked. I insert them a little further, just to the outside of my vagina. It’s still incredibly wet; as I brush my clit, I let out a gasp. It’s incredibly sensitive this morning.
“Little too old for wet dreams,” I mutter as I reach over to my nightstand and slide the cheap wooden drawer open. Inside is my velvet box with the lock on it which I never bother to lock, considering the fact that I’ve been opening it almost daily since I began having these dreams. I dig through the tiny bottles of lubricant to find my favorite tool for this kind of job: my blue vibrator. I pull the batteries from the bottom of the drawer and insert them into it. I almost reach for my favorite lube, a strawberry-scented one, but decide that it isn’t necessary considering how wet I already am.
I close my eyes as I slide the buzzing vibrator between my breasts and down my stomach, trying to mimic the actions of the man I screw every night in my dreams. It feels good, but is boring in comparison to him. I breathe heavily as I push it between my lips. I press the tip of it against my clit, though it only makes me gasp and makes me even wetter. Deciding to end the torture, I thrust it into my pussy without any of the gentle intimacy of the man. I push it further and further inside me, burying my feet into the soft pillowtop mattress and biting my lip. My pussy tightens and the sensations become sharper. After a few seconds I orgasm, soaking my poor, abused bedding even more than it was. I lie in bed for a few more seconds before deciding that I need to do some laundry.
I slide out of bed, resting my trusty vibe on the nightstand. I don’t close the drawer as I head over to my dresser. Feeling lazy, I pull a short summer dress. I also grab a pair of panties and my cutest lacy bra out of the drawer. I pull off my pajama shirt and toss it onto the floor. I slide on the panties as I walk over to my vanity mirror. I look at myself; I truly look like I just had a really good fuck. My raven hair is sticking out in every direction and I have that cheesy-romance-novel look on my round, pale face. I don’t take my eyes off myself as I wrap the bra around my ribs, hooking it into place. I twist it around and pull the cups up over my medium-sized round breasts. I then pull the dress on and seat myself at the small glass table. I work a brush through my hair and when I decide that I look decent, I wad up my bedding in a ball that reeks of sex. Slightly embarrassed, I plop it into a basket and grab my car keys as I exit my small apartment. I throw the basket into my car and drive as fast as I can to the laundromat.
I start popping quarters into a laundry machine when a stranger catches my eye. I turn from the machine as I realize that he’s watching me. Normally I’d be creeped out by now, but something about him entices me. I smile shyly and turn back to the machine. I’m just about to grab my blankets when I realize that he’s standing behind me. I turn around and he presses my back into the large washer. I let out a gasp as he pushes himself onto me, his face less than an inch from mine.
My eyes widen in surprise as he grips me by my shoulders. I should be frightened, I know; but to be honest, something about the stranger is making me incredibly wet.

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