Dreams of 18

Which only makes me moan some more. His sounds of satisfaction, his approval and of course, his tongue.

He’s swirling it around now, I think. He’s up at my clit and he’s flicking it with his tongue. He’s going in circles up there, lashing it, slapping it and I’m writhing because of it.

It’s like that hand on my stomach that he had a little bit ago. He was keeping me pinned to the bed with it.

Now, it’s his mouth at my pussy.

He’s keeping me glued to the sheets, he’s keeping my ass glued to the bed while my entire body jerks and twists under his ministrations.

It twists and twists so much that he has to bring his hands in to the mix.

He puts both of them on my thighs and grabs me there. He nails my legs to the bed and now my lower body is really at his mercy.

Who am I kidding? My entire body is at his mercy.

My heart, my soul, everything about me is in the palm of his hands and the flat of his tongue and hooked on his heavy, panting breaths.

His wild breaths.

As if he’s really this beast who found me somewhere wandering in the woods. He came upon me and he wanted me.

So he dragged me back to his cave and now has me trapped in his clutches, the girl in the red dress. And he’s making her scream as he takes juicy bites out of her, out of her pussy like he’s so hungry.

So hungry that it’s in every beat of his tongue and pull of his lips. At one point, he does what he did on my lips. He takes my core into his mouth, my wet, silky folds, and sucks on them.

He feeds on them and my knees jerk up and fold. My ankles go around his neck and I’m thumping my heels on his upper back. I’m jerking my hips to the rhythm of his feeding, rubbing his beard with my thighs, feeling the scrape, the sting, and I’m moaning.

I throw my head back into the pillow as I do that. As I make sounds and needy noises.

I’m so close. So fucking close.

My pussy is clenching and I bet he can feel it because that’s where he is. He’s moved down from my clit, so he can be at my hole.

He can be at my needy, horny hole that’s rippling and he circles it with his tongue.

He goes round and round, his fingers spasming on my thighs.

It makes me think that he’ll enter me with that tongue. He’ll enter my body and taste the walls of my pussy, the messy, sloppy walls. It makes me think he’ll dig out my juices. He’ll curl his tongue inside of me and make me cream for him.

Make me gush all over his jaw and beard and just the thought of that makes me do it.

The thought of him entering my body makes me come.

I draw my knees up to my stomach, fist his hair and press my core in his mouth and I come.

I come in great, rolling waves. They take me away with them, make me move up and down. Make me shake the bed with the violence of his kiss.

His special kiss for my eighteenth birthday.

And it’s not over yet.

As I’m coming down from my high, my body going lax and sated, I feel him moving up. I feel his lips pressing small kisses on my stomach and my chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth and pulls at it hard and I go up, I arch up at his mouth and my core jerks.

“Graham,” I whimper, my hands going to his chest, my fingers burying in his chest hair.

He lets go of my nipple and moves further up. He kisses my pulse and I bend my neck to the side to give him more access. Then, he’s at my lips. But he doesn’t stop there. He goes up and up and finds my forehead.

Closing my sleepy eyes, I nuzzle my nose at his stubbled throat as I feel him kiss me there, at my sweaty forehead, and whisper, “Happy birthday, baby.”

I had a dream.

I was a kid, probably four or five and I was with my father.

We were in his rose garden out back and we were picking out flowers for my mother. Then, the scene changed and we were inside the cabin.

I was the one offering her the bouquet of roses and she took it with a smile. She appeared happy and I was filled with pride. I was filled with this boyish accomplishment that I made my mother smile and then, I woke up.

I’m not sure if it was a memory that I’d forgotten or if I made it up in my head. I’m not even sure why I dreamed it in the first place when I haven’t had a dream in so long. Probably, never.