|
A Dream Box, Wrong Area I believe
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
DayDreams...
I'm staring at you, but you don't even feel my eyes burning
into the back of your neck. I wish, just once, you'd turn around.
Just once? Oh well. I can dream, can't I? I'm glad we had class
outside today. It's warm out, and the professor doesn't expect us to
really pay attention. How could he, when there are people playing
Frisbee only ten feet away from him? So I can daydream, and he
won't care. I can daydream about how once, just once, when I'm
watching you, you'll turn around and see me. I'll blush, because I'm
always watching you, even though you don't know it. And you'll
smile. You like it when girls blush. It makes you wonder what
we're thinking. I don't mind telling you what I'm thinking. When you
see me, I turn away for a second, but then I glance back, out of the
corner of my eye. Your attention has turned back to the professor,
but I can see you glance at me and I blush again. Caught by
something in my eye, some telltale expression, you turn again to face
me, and I blow a kiss to you. You smile, and I think you're laughing
at me. When class is over, I run away quickly, embarrassed to see
you, to take the chance you will speak to me. Even in my daydreams I
am nervous. How would you react if you knew how often I thought of
you? If you knew *how* I thought of you? I doubt you'd blush. You
don't seem the type. In my daydream, after you've seen me, after I've
run away, I see you later in the dining hall. I know you've seen me
because you start talking to your friends, and they all look at me.
I turn away, afraid of what they say about me. I'm not pretty. Not
like *her*, the girl you saw last year. But I'm me, and that should
count for something, shouldn't it? Maybe it would, if you knew me,
even a little bit. I daydream about a class in which we have to work
together, on a project. We spend time researching, talking,
laughing. You finally know me, and I think maybe, maybe, you like
what you have known, just a little. And the next time I look at
you, you look back and smile. The best part of my daydream is when
*you* look for *me*. When *you* say you want to spend time with me.
When I feel eyes burning a hole in my neck and see your eyes watching
me. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and I wonder if you daydream the
way I daydream. For I've daydreamed every moment of what it would be
like if you should touch me. I've daydreamed about your body, about
your kiss. I think about you, standing tall over me, bending to kiss
me. My lips part slightly and I feel the heat spread through me as
my body melts in your arms. Your lips kiss a trail of hot fire down
the side of my neck then up again so you can nibble on my ear. You
excite me so much that my breath is quickly coming in short gasps and
you haven't even undressed me. When you reach for the top button of
my blouse I stop you. Even in my dreams I want to seduce you every
step of the way. I slowly unbutton the blouse and arch my shoulders
as I slip it off, so my breasts strain forward, catching your eyes.
I see you smile, and again I stop you before you can touch me. I
want to see just how hot I can make you without even touching you,
without your touching me. I slowly slip my pants over my hips,
easing them gently to the ground, then kick them to the side with my
foot. I am now only in my bra and panties, and I can see your eyes
have grown warm with desire. I then unhook the bra and as I ease it
off, your arms catch mine, pinning them to my side. I have inflamed
you and you will not stand alone any longer. Your lips sear mine and
I find my reason melting away, fleeing until my brain only knows
what my body knows, and I know I want you. I find myself on the
bed. I don't know how I got there, but I am now fully nude to your
gaze, everything gone from covering me, and you are nude to mine. In
my daydreams you are wonderful to look at (I wish I could see it in
truth! -- I'm sure you are just as wonderful...). I feel that
delicious warmth spread through me and feel my juices dripping down
my leg. I am hot for you, and you know this, but you are going to
tease me now as I teased you before. You lie beside me and run your
hands across my body, teasing, tickling over my breasts, lightly
brushing the triangle of hair between my thighs. You roll over me,
pinning me beneath your strong legs, your manhood pulsing against my
stomach, and your lips find my breast, suckling on a nipple. It is
too much and I arch and groan with pleasure, thrusting my hips
against your legs, aching for fulfillment. You chuckle. I had the
audacity to tease you before, so I will not be fulfilled so easily
now. You run your hands down my side, then over my stomach, then slip
your fingers between my wet lips. The release is immediate and
overwhelming, and I shout my pleasure, arching hard against your
hand. My eyes blink open and I see you licking your fingers, smiling
at me. You lightly kiss my lips -- teasing me again with the
butterfly touch of your tongue on mine. Then your lips travel down
my body, stopping to tease each nipple to a rigid peak, traveling
over my belly button, then moving teasingly away from where I want you
most to kiss. "Do you *really* want me to taste you?" you ask,
chuckling. I moan, my hands tangling in your hair. You oblige and
set your tongue against my pulsing clit, teasing it again until it
grows and grows and finally seems to burst as I shake with the
pleasure of release. This time I am sad, for I have now had two while
you have had none. ou simply shrug and lie on your back, arms behind
your head, challenging me to do something about the situation. I
smile and reach out to take your rod in my hand. My hands are small,
and it seems to me that your manhood pulses with a life of its own
and will burst out of my small hands. I lean over to kiss the tip,
licking the salty drop off. Then I raise my head to yours and kiss
you, long and deep, and our tastes mingle. I slide my hips over yours
and hold you against me, then slide down so you slowly, ever so
slowly, slide inside me. It is heaven! Then you slowly move, as I
rise and fall above you, my breasts heaving with every breath. I run
my hands over your body, teasing your nipples, licking your chest
with quick kisses that start your breath to gasps again. I can feel
your urgency as your hands grasp my hips, pulling me hard against
you. I lean forward to cover your mouth with mine, taking your
tongue into me in a frantic kiss. Your body arches, I can feel you
deep inside me as you shudder, and it triggers a release of my own.
And in my daydream, when we wake, you kiss me and whisper soft words
to me, and hold me. And as we lie there, I know that your arms are
the right place to be. But still, it is all just a daydream. And
when the daydream is over, I realize class has ended and everyone is
standing up, brushing the grass off of themselves, and chatting. I
stand slowly, my gaze stealing to watch you again, but you are
talking to your friends with no sign you know of my dreams. Once,
just once, you will see me. And then I will tell you of my
daydreams. And you can make them true.
|
|
