The Deceptive Dream
I followed her. Her curves, they were… Scrumptious? Is that an appropriate description. Was my mouth…was it watering as I followed her into the same hotel room, again.
Oh my god, I wanted her. I knew it. My body, my whole being wanted to be with her. I knew there had to be more. There had to be. That tight shirt you were wearing, around your figure. Ohhh the curves of yours. Bludgeoning my thoughts, overwhelming my desires for you. If only you knew. If only you knew, how much I wanted to be with you day in and day out, I found myself thinking.
Is he looking at my ass, my body I hope? Is he, well I hope he is because it’s the only thing I think I’ve got to offer him. I know I’m beautiful or so I think so. I’m not crazy about my body, but he is. I can almost smell that. He wants me. His eyes are on my body, maybe even my biggish round ass.
He was doing it again. Behind me, and I knew it was happening again, he was grabbing hold of it, feeling himself, he loved it as if it was her. “You know something? I always enjoy coming to be with you.”
She turned around. “I hope so. I don’t do this solely for the sex. I mean I do it because I love having sex with…you” she told me.
“Oh god… with me?” I told her.
“Yes…with you. Alone, you and me. I enjoy how you look at me. I really do. It makes me feel sexier, more grown up, more womanly. You understand that don’t you?”
“I want to” I told her as she turned and began undressing in front of me.
Those thighs even. Ohhhhhh my lord, they…her thighs were spectacular. I wanted to suckle them as if they were butterscotch mints. I wanted them even more then I want a beer or ice cream. I wanted her. I wanted inside her and I wanted to be her vibrator. I wanted to be on her, in her, and I wanted to be all over her.
“You love my body. You adore it even” she said.
I was silent as my eyes, like my body, fell apart over her curvy proportionate plumpness. It wasn’t only her nice boobs but her soft belly, her wide like curves, and her large pear shaped ass and even those round thighs. I dreamed of her. I felt her on me. I feel her on my lap as I write right now.
I went back to it, her story. I read on. I found myself cupping my cock even. Before long I was stroking myself. Faster and smoother and wanting her in ways a woman can’t understand. Not just sexual intercourse, but holding and kissing and feeling and discovering her body in ways a woman doesn’t usually do, I think and wonder. I like her and tell myself “Is she for real? Or is this a joke being played on me. I like it either way.”
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