Sweet Dreams

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It feels so good to be in New York City again, especially in a sexy, new dress and having finished a productive day. I’m ready to unwind. I fly along in a cab to a bar my friend has suggested. Friend. Not sure if that is the correct definition of him, old school classmates, but really more like strangers at this point. I am covered in anticipatory tingles and even fluttering in my stomach when I think of seeing him. Finally. I uncross and then re-cross my legs to the other side; the cab driver and I make eye contact in his review mirror. I smile at him and he smiles back. A genuine exchange, nice. The cab stops in front of the burgundy plush doors of Lounge No.9. I give the driver a good tip and smile again.

He looks Pakistani, dark hair, dark eyes, dark eyebrows, his white pearlies look fabulous between his parting lips. “Good night, dear lady.” he says to me.

“Same to you.” I slide out of the cab and inside the front door of the club and nod at the doorman. At the end of the bar I find a seat and then make eye contact with the bartender to order myself a martini. Lucky day for me, first a cute cab driver, now cute bartender. The bartender is in his early thirties, has athletic arms, tousled dark blonde hair, baby blue eyes, short trimmed sideburns and nice full, poufy lips. Love those lips. I can imagine them on me, leaving a trail of moisture in all of my sensitive places. A wash of warmth glides down my thighs.

A man sits down beside me, somewhat clean-cut, in jeans and a button-up shirt. He is neat, except for his hair which is a slightly askew. He looks straight ahead and clasps his hands together which allows me to sneak a peek at all his fingers together all at once. Those hands. A shiver runs down my spine. I can’t wait any longer so I turn and look him in the eyes. I blush first and then smile, “Hey.” I want to reach my hand out and drape it over both of his; instead I touch his elbow for only a second.

He looks me over, “Nice dress. You look hot.”

I blush again, glad the room is dimly lit. “Thanks.

“It’s a bit weird to be here, isn’t it?” he admits.

I nod my head and take a sip of my drink.

“We need a shot,” he lifts his arm and orders two whiskeys.

The poufy lipped bartender sets one down in front of me, the other in front of my new friend, Tim and says, “Enjoy.” His sideburns twitch.

I look down at Tim’s hand that holds his shot glass, fingers rounded, almost knobby, his palms a little rough, hands that look like they’d been busy doing some work, though not too hard of labor. I want those hands on me. Those fingers on my body. My urgings are deep, been hibernating for too long. We share some drinks, engage in some forced conversation, then I finally break the ice.

“So, I was thinking the other day,” I guffaw at my silliness of using the cliché, “about when we were kids and there is this one time in particular that stands out in my mind. We were in my bedroom. We were 14, maybe 15 and we were making out. Probably a dare from some spin the bottle game or something like that?”

Tim pushes his hair back forcing his short tufts of hair to wriggle. They immediately came back looking exactly the same as they had before. He leans back on his stool and smirks, “I remember.” He folds his arms and drums his fingers on his biceps. I want those fingers on my thighs.

“We started with kissing, but you quickly wanted more. You were terribly bahis firmaları persistent. Remember? Kept trying to get your hands into my pants.” I laugh and pause. “I think I did let you down there for a few moments, but then my head chimed in and told me I couldn’t let you. I shouldn’t be so easy. In fact, I remember having to give you a forceful no so that you’d stop. You remember that?”

Tim reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh. I can hardly think straight. All my attention is whittled down to where his hand touches my body. I want more. I want him to slip his hand up my inner thigh and slip his fingers into me. My heartbeat speeds up and I tingle all over, like all my sensory receptors are awake and alert. He says, “I do remember. Maybe we should try that out again?”

I laugh and knock his hand off my leg.

His eyes grow dark with humor, “Hmm, I see how it is. Okay then, let’s finish these drinks. I’ll take you to a great Italian restaurant. We’ll drink some red wine. Eat a nice dinner.”

“You want dinner?” I stand and move closer to him, allowing him to get a good look at the low neckline of my dress.

“Well, unless you’ve got another idea?” He stands then and rests his one hand on the bar. His rounded fingers are splayed and tense. I want to lift up his hand and plant it on my tits. I want his skin to touch my skin.

I garner all my courage and say, “Maybe we should try that out again. I’m at the Westin.” I scoop up his hand and pull myself into him. His other hand slips over my ass, smooth since I am wearing black, lacy, thongs. I imagine his hands touching my panties, his fingers licking their edges and then wiggling themselves around the material. Pushing it aside. What is it about those hands?

We walk eight blocks in silence, holding hands our stride aligned, like we are an old rekindled couple off to revisit a moment. But that is not us, for us it is all unknown territory.

We keep our heads down and quiet as we make our way through the lobby and into the elevator. Another couple follows us in and then stands in front of us. Tim presses himself into the side of me showing me that he is ready to go. My hand glides quickly over the front of his jeans. I blush at my forwardness. Tim gives me a sideways smile and squeezes my hand and pulls it toward his crouch.

The other couple leaves us and we are alone. We continue to stand in silence. I want to strip off my clothes and stand naked in front of this man. I want to let him have all of me right in the elevator. We stop on my floor and get out. Tim follows me.

I unlock the door, walk across the room and turn on a lamp by the bed. I hear a soft click as the door shuts. Then, as if he vaporized himself, Tim is suddenly behind me. His hands slip over the front of my dress and fondle my breasts. I gasp and get all gooey and melty inside by the touch of new hands on me. It has been so long. He easily unties and opens my wrap-around dress. With a quick clip, my bra comes undone and he’s stroking my tits. I suck in a breath and hold it, lost in the feeling of his hands on my breasts.

He slowly turns me around and we face the big mirror. He moves behind me and there I am with my dress hanging open. We lock eyes in the mirror. I can feel his stiffness against my ass. Tim’s rounded fingers pinch and stroke my nipples. I watch him and feel him at the same time. My legs shake. I pull in a breath and turn kaçak iddaa around. I put my lips on his and kiss him. Our tongues explore each other’s mouth. I suck on his lower lip. His breaths into me; his mouth is warm and steamy. His hands move around my body, exploring my curves, my hips, my ass, the low of my back. His mouth presses harder into me and then he stops moving all together. I hold my breath and do the same. He pulls his head back and looks me in the eyes and then without warning, he shoves two fingers up into me. My knees buckle and I struggle to regain my balance. My thighs quake as he finger fucks me. He keeps his eyes on mine while shoves his fingers in and out of my pussy. It is frothy and slippery. I gasp and steady myself as I unbutton his shirt and then drag my tongue over his nipples which are taut like mine.

I stand in front of him and let my dress and bra fall to the floor. I am only in my thong now. I lock eyes with him and feeling all stripper-girly, I get down on my knees and unbuckle his pants. I pull his dick out of his pants and then take him into my mouth deeply while continuing to look up at him. He puts his hands on my head, throws his head back and he moves in and out of my mouth. I grab his lean and muscular ass which is flexed and tense. I grab his balls. He pulls his dick out slowly and I roll my tongue over the head of his dick. I am dripping wet, imagining what he will feel like when he slides into me.

He pulls me up to my feet. We kiss again, deeply, steadily, his hands always moving, now back on my breasts. His lips follow them to my tight nipple.

“Bite em,” I whisper.

He does. Little nibbles and then every couple of bites are hard, all teeth. Always a surprise. I laugh in pain for one that’s a bit too hard. Tim pulls away from me again and looks at me, “You really are fucking hot.”

“I’m fucking middle-aged,” I retort and then say, “but maybe not so bad.”

“Well you are bad, but in the way I like.”

I shake my head and push out a fake chuckle. He leads me over to the desk.

“I love your body. Your cute little tits and your very sensitive nipples. ” He flicks one. “And the curve of your hips.” He puts his hands on them and then lifts me onto the desk.

“It’s cold,” I whisper into his ear.

“Not for long.” He kneels down and breaths out heavily onto my clit. I want to scream, seeing his lips inches away from mine makes me crazy. Without warning, he pushes his lips into my clit and then bites it.

I yelp. “What are you,” before I got anything else out, he is sucking and licking and putting his fingers into me, while he licks, nibbles, his tongue presses the tip of my clit. His other hand creeps up my torso and I lead it to my tits. My legs are taut as his tongue drums steadily over my clit, consistently, pulling on it and dragging his teeth over it until I can’t take it anymore. I grasp his head as I start climaxing and he bites my clit and I yelp again, my hips coming off the desk. He slowly moves his fingers in and out of me as he tenderly laps at my tender clit, then gives it one more hard suck.

That one makes a guttural groan escape from me.

He laughs. “Don’t move,” he stands again. He kisses me lightly. I can taste myself with his kisses and am not too sure of that, but before I think about it too much he lifts his hips up and thrusts his dick into me in one hard, steady motion. I claw his shoulders and kaçak bahis swallow a yell. My ass is grinding on top of some magazines; the edge of the metal lamp pokes my ass as he pushes into me again. He pumps me steadily with intensity. We find the same rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, his hands are pressed into my hips and I am lost to everything, but that place inside me so deep down, that needs to be touched, caressed, licked, chewed, adored, explored. We continue back and forth. Back and forth. I don’t want it to ever end. I lift my leg and put it on his shoulder. He slows down and pumps into me deeper each time. I reach around and grab his ass and shiver as I climax, wondering why that feeling can’t last longer. The next moment I feel Tim release himself into me. I take in a stilted breath. We hold each other tightly and only take in small gulps of breath.

But Tim can’t stay still. His hands slide up my side, cusp the side of my breast. His other hand is roaming around by my ass. Damn, his fingers are everywhere. He leans back and his one hand finds my nipples again, pinching and pulling. My eyes flutter open as my body is still rolling in the aftershocks. I think to myself, he’s gotta take a break, I’m sure. We are surely not kids anymore. I pull away but he draws me closer and kisses me.

He stays inside of me while we continue to kiss, slower now, our hands taking time to travel over each other’s unfamiliar bodies, the shoulders, necks, ears, lips. He licks my collarbone which sends a new set of shivers down between my legs. His hand rolls up the middle of my back and he presses me into him, “I think I’m getting ready again.” He smiles and kisses my ears while I feel him grow again, this time inside of me. He pushes a little grind into me and looks at me. I can’t help but smile and chuckle. I notice he has dimples. He pulls himself out of me. He is definitely hard again.

He helps me off the desk and leads me over to the bed, raking his hands along my back, then my ass, encouraging me to bend over. I do it. He entices my legs to open more by running his fingertips up my inner thighs. As I am lost in the touch of his fingers, he quickly enters me from behind. It’s deep. It’s amazing. I move my ass closer to him offering to take him a little deeper. And he gives it to me. Deeper, stronger, steadier. We find our rhythm again and just as I feel like I am going to cum again, he reaches around and pinches my nipples. And I cum. Again. And then, so does he.

This time he quickly pulls out and pulls me down beside him. We breathe heavily together, his breath rolling in and out of my ear. His warm breath is definitely a turn on. He’d better watch out with that, maybe we’re not done yet I joke to myself. As if he read my mind, he wraps his body around mine and we laugh. He takes his hand and he rolls his fingers up my side and then lands on my tits. He gently rolls my nipple between his first finger and thumb. I arch my back, welcoming his touches and kiss him. I am warm. My body satisfied. Satiated.

I wake up the next morning and look in the bed next to me. Emptiness. I search for an impression of his body on my bed. I see nothing. Though maybe there are more crumpled sheets than usual. Was it really him or was it a dream? I search the room for evidence. The room is empty, except my own stuff. My dress is balled up on the floor, but that really isn’t proof, is it? Heck, I was drinking shots last night. I keep searching. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it. I think. The desk’s lamp shade is slightly askew. Magazines appear wrinkled and pushed around.

Is that evidence or is it only a sweet dream?

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