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Dream Girl

Posted by: Author: Age: 30 Posted on: 0 comments
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My favorite time to go at it solo!!! I hope the girls like it


My favorite moments of self-intimacy are between the waking and the dream. After shaving, showering and closing up the house, I tend to crawl into bed only in my boxers. I set the alarm and let myself fall into a sleep. Of course, my flaccid penis begins to swell a little. Not so much consciously. Ever since my first boner, shifting into a comfortable position in bed always equalled a mildly erotic experience. I can't refuse giving it a couple of squeezes as if I'm going to start working it, but it's always a couple of squeezes and then I turn over in bed. That's my brilliant way of keeping my hands off my swell, which is buzzing pleasure, akin to a sexually intense stretch between my legs and up my inner thighs. My prick gets half hard, now squeezed between my mons pubis bone or my thigh (whichever way it tends to be laying) and the cool mattress. I can't help to rub my swell by roughly pushing my hips up and down, but I stop myself, always reminding myself that I don't need to masturbate. I don't need to cum. Eventually, I fall asleep.

This happens every average night, a mild but pleasurable annoyance. If I masturbate, it's because my dreams heat up and I wake up with the aggressive need to let my balls empty themselves. Three nights ago, I had one of those dreams...

I've never had an erotic dream that ever finished. I have never had a nocturnal emission and, for most of my junior year through high school, I had the suspicion that they were an urban legend. If I became heated, I'd wake and jerk off. That was that. It escaped me how guys could release semen and not know it until they woke up the next morning. Anyhow, this dream was as short as all the rest, but it's virtual vividness, even if only a vicissitude, got my heart beating quicker and made me yearn so heavily for sexual gratification that I woke in a fever of lust...

The dream: she was a blonde-brunette with long, straight hair that she wore loose over her shoulders; she was small with a tight ass, hugged in blue jeans and her tits were soft, pert mounds that pushed her blouse out, forming c-cup badges of feminine royalty; her nose was small, and her lips were full and only touched briefly with gloss. Her face was the seeming of innocence and joy.

The dream shifted. Now she was in a skirt, with long legs, her cotton panties showing as she leaned over to tie her shoes. She was carrying books and I was back in high school. We started talking. The dialogue mattered. I was feeling love for her, not just lust, but a true desire to know her and make her laugh. I was her perfect boyfriend, everything she wanted and she didn't have to say it. She only had to smile at me and I'd know. It was like a divine resonance that followed me everywhere. This girl was always with me. Sex didn't seem to matter. It wasn't a question in my mind. I never thought of it, but I was enraptured by her beauty, the beauty of her physical form and her tender personality. I'd die for her in awe.

Then the dream shifted one last time. She was in a cute designer version of overalls with no shirt underneath. Her hair was up and we were in a golden wheat field, sky turning scarlet. We were eating and still talking. I still felt that joyous resonance. It was shuttering through me as she reached over and touched my hand. Her touch was a spark, a micro-orgasm. She was leaning toward me, reaching into my slacks, pulling my belt apart and reaching to get her hand around.

She was saying, '...thick, silken meat,' as she was doing it. I felt her cool fingers wrapping around my swelling cock and I wanted her to soak her hands in my seed.

I woke, heart beating hard, breathing heavy, pulling my boxers to the side to expose my hard, twitching cock. I grabbed the base, the veins popping out and my knob expanding until it reached the limit of it's elasticity and started squeezing the head like it was juicing a strawberry. I looked at myself through heavy, foggy eyes and felt a little pride in it's strong virility. (I'm a guy, okay, I wanted to shout, 'I have a great cock and it's going to flood the Earth!' To me then, there would be no better time to re-establish orgies and I'd christen it with the very thing everyone would worship with the ultimate of pleasure. LOL. No really. Hard and anxious to cum is a very exquisite place to be for the male ego; at least, for mine it is.)

Rubbing my cock, feeling my sperm-banks tighten to a single bouncing red softball, I searched for that edging point of no return as the girl in my dreams had me naked in the wheat.

Before I breached, I let go of myself, breathing out and realising that I was getting hot and sweaty. My cock plopped on my stomach and my balls relaxed, the rushing wave of pleasure just slipped away. But I wasn't through. I grabbed my cock again and could start working at it. I rubbed my throbbing mons pubis, rubbing through the dark curls of my pubic hair. I dreamed that the girl dropped her overalls to show me her puffy nipples and turned around to show her ass for me, to give me a view of her sweetest and most appetizingly profane erogenous zones: the curl of her puffy lips and the round, firm ass cheeks that enfolds her clean anus.

By this time, my cock was building to it's third edge and I let myself breach. I held my breath, feeling my heart pounding in my chest and my flesh crawling with electric pulses of velvet ecstasy. The very fibres of my muscles began washing with the need to stretch and relent to the spasms of my boyo's opus, which happened, starting from the jerking in my prostate and buzzing balls. I could feel my cum leap from my balls and begin to travel through my shaft. On the next jerk, the pulsing meat of my organs squeezed out the first shot like a blast from a high powered water gun. The following blasts that came after the glory of my pumping muscles were like a sprinkler... cum landed all over and around me. The long, hard pumps dwindled to small pumping spasms that died a few seconds even after my cum stopped darting from my knob. Finally, I just laid there, feeling sleep taking me away again, dripping out the last of what I had.

I sleep in the arms of my dream girl.



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