Sweet Dreams are made of...

Maybe I should finally be checked into a psychiatric ward in some mental hospital at the farthest end on the world but so far nobody seems to think so too so I guess am not doing so badly.

It has been a long 2 weeks with no sex and this is the third week am coming round to (Tomorrow to be exact) and am sort of dreading doing the countdown. I love it when am getting some constantly, a reason to smile at my reflection on buildings as I walk all by myself feeling very accomplished and satisfied with me, Having discussions in the bathroom with myself on how good the sex was as I run my hands over all the scars I have as memoirs and touch myself in a bid to remember how their touch felt. But most importantly, a reason to sit for hours, writing sex stories as I twist and turn the characters over in my mind and try to make their orgasms feel as good as mine. Sex for me is like a diet plan. It’s always in the scheme of things on my mind.

 But now that am not getting some while awake, am settling for the ones in my dreams...

She had been stealing glances at me all night that had my knickers in a knot and my pussy dripping like never before. If I thought it was bad last time, then this was going to be a nightmare. I wanted to rub my hands down her chest and touch those small tits that seemed to constantly want my attention. To run my fingers through her hair as she sucked on my nipples...but still I had to contend with the stolen glances and the cheeky smiles that confused me and left me flushed. She smiled at me across the table and I had to pinch myself to keep from moving right into her arms. I wanted her to take me right there and then on the table with everyone watching. I was sure that she wanted me too because I could see her licking her lips as she looked at me. Her eyes betraying all the things she wanted to do to me. Her fingers were itching to touch me. I had never seen her hands so busy and wanted them busy on me even more. Feeling me up, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples. But what I really wanted was to have her lips around my nipples, her teeth biting and grazing them. Leaving a trail of bites and hickies all over my body as she called me by all the nasty words she knew. I wanted her and it was driving me crazy with need and desire. I had to find a way to get her to give me some soon.

I was in a zone when she pinned me an hour later to the wall. Outside; in the biting cold air, her one hand acting as a buffer against the cold wall. But my nipples having to rub against it; getting harder and colder by the minute with occasional reprieve from her warm fingers pinching and pulling them. I felt her unbutton my pants and lower them to my knees. Not bothering to take them off completely, I creamed myself just as she shoved one finger deep inside me. I was panting and moaning by then, grinding myself back on that finger when she slid it out and shoved back two. A scream caught in my throat when i felt her thumb rubbing circles around my puckered opening, I got light-headed, my knees refused to carry my weight and I felt my pussy spasm around her fingers just as she pushed her thumb in and the scream that came out of me was deafening but still i wanted more and she gave more. The in and out thrusts driving me over the edge, her breath on the nape of my neck and her voice whispering in my ear, "Is this what you wanted?...Do you like it?...Show me how much you like it..." That's all it took to get the champagne showers going. Calling her name and begging for an eternity of the same.

This is definitely what sweet dreams are made of.