Dreaming Of Him
Two deft, long fingers played with my pebbled nipple, passing slowly over the taut sensitive nub in a punishing stroke. My body quivered with unreleased tension as I straddled the warm body beneath me on instinct, my aching core pooling with inviting wetness, my arousal mounting by the second.
Fuck! I was actually dreaming of him.
Warm lips found the base of a breast, a warm tongue swiping along it in the next moment, leaving a wet trail behind, my breaths coming out in rough pants, before my eyelids tore open from the pleasure that seeped in and out of every pore of my skin.
It took a couple of blinks for my eyes to adjust to the dim red light in the room. When it finally did, the first thing that caught my attention was the hazy panting image of a naked lady that stared back at me from across the small room, her eyes fighting to remain open, and her quivering lips slightly drawn apart from an inaudible gasp.
Wait, was that a mirror?