Naughty dream

I had such a naughty dream the other night. It was so tantalizing and realistic that I can still envision that sweet piece of carnal pleasure dancing gently across my lips. In my fantasy, my mouth was wrapped around that thick long piece of heaven while my tongue lapped up every juicy drop of cream until my desire for it was so strong, and the urge to satisfy my needs so enticing I gave in and woke my husband up.

“Baby,” I cooed into his ear, softly breathing hot air onto his neck. “I want it.”

He turned his head toward me a little and mumbled over his bulky right shoulder, “mmm? What do you want?”

My fingers followed a slow purposeful path up his muscular thigh and was captured by his hand. He laced his fingers with mine and I purred, “you know what I want.”

“Again?”

“Mmmhmm.”

His bloodshot eyes focused in on mine and he shook his head softly. “But the doctor said-”

“I don’t care what the doctor said, I want it!” The naughty dream still played over and over in my mind and I caressed his shoulder with my cheek. “Please?”

A long exhale followed and he rolled over onto his back and sighed. “Can’t you just do it yourself?”

It was frustrating. To wake up from that sort of dream and not get what you want afterwards has to be one of the most discouraging feelings in the universe. “I don’t want to do it myself, I want you to give it to me. It’s so much better that way. Please?” I was begging now, and on the verge of tears.

“Fine!” He huffed and left. It took a bit of preparation on his side but once I had both my hands wrapped around that monstrous piece of delight and it was inside my mouth I became the happiest woman alive. Such joy, such pleasure, such bliss.

Ohhhhh yes… I will forever cherish that memory of me, my husband and that chocolate covered, pudding filled eclair from the North Shore bakery for the rest of my life.