Lucid Dreams 1

I have a lot of fantasies about public sex. The one I had last night left me particularly horny for more than just my hand.

A lovely autumn evening, nice cool breeze and warm enough that you kept your summer dress on. Pretty white and yellow flower dress, you looked great. It really allowed your legs to show not to mention the way it hugged your figure, it was very pleasing to the eye.

We were at some outdoor restaurant. Dining on some food, drinking a little wine and enjoying being with the person we adore. The soulful looks as we ate, the touching of hands across the table.

The street was now a piazza. Benches and tables arranged on the outside with sunshade umbrellas. Fairy lights streamed from pole to pole, their warm dull glow providing modest illumination.

Street performers began to play. Surprising where things come from in your dreams. Piano, cello, trumpet, percussion, all playing some upbeat tunes, almost Latin in sound. We both knew we wanted to dance.

And dance we did. Her body close, legs between each other. I love dreams, I can't dance, but in my dreams I can. Sexy salsa moves. Dipping her, her dress flowing out as she spun. Then pulling her back, close to me, so I could feel her hip on me. We danced, people clapped. Her gaze becoming smoldering. Her lips begging me to kiss her. Each dip, her breasts almost displayed for all, or maybe it was just my view that was amazing.

I needed her. I wanted her. I craved her.

As the music stopped I grabbed her hand and we ran to one of the empty tables around the piazza. I pulled her to me. My arm around her waist, hand on the small of her back, fingers teasing the curve of her bum. My other hand running up her sides and cupping her breast as my lips found hers. Our kisses, oh my god, the fire and passion. The type of kisses when you're moving your head side to side, odd angles of your neck, just trying to get as much of that love as you can.

Her hand on my chest, as if ready to dig her nails in and hold me to her. Her other hand around my neck and head. She wasn't letting go. I walked her backwards, edge of the table on her arse, she laid back.

My hand moved under her skirt, lifting it, revealing her nakedness. Had she planned this evening? I moaned at the sight of her nakedness and she whispered in her throaty, husky voice, "I want you, fuck me please."

Who could resist.

I unzipped, already straining at attention. That sensual rubbing of the head up and down. Smearing her juices over her length and coating me. Her breathing matching each stroke up and down. Till I slide it in.

Oh that feeling. The engulfment, complete enveloping of my shaft and head. It feels absolutely divine, warm, tight, wet, slippery yet gripping. All my nerves teased and I moaned her name. Maybe a little "Oh fuck" as well.

She lifted her legs up onto the table to allow me better depth. It felt amazing being inside her. Loving this woman I had danced with, I had dined with, now deep inside her most intimate place. Her hands gripped the table, her head resting on it as we fucked. Long deep strokes. The kind of strokes where I almost come out, stopping to look at just the tip inside her amazing pink, delightful pussy. Then the long slow slide back in, reaching deep. Her moans told me she was enjoying it as much as her body.

I held the top of her thighs and started to increase the pace, nice steady rhythm. We were both lost in the moment. Then it happened.

Shadows without faces. All the people in the piazza. Moving in, watching us fuck as though we were now the main entertainment. Some ventured closer, men, women, hands reaching, pulling, tugging at her dress, at my pants. Hands exploring, groping. Her breasts now a sea of hands; kneading, squeezing, pinching. My own arse fondled by some unseen hands. We didn't care. The hands were anonymous, maybe not even real. But the feeling of strangers hands whilst we fucked, soft, firm and sensual, was a new sensation. We both moaned and urged to give more of ourselves.

I could feel my own arousal reaching its peak. Her own having passed once and now having quickly reached the wonders of orgasm again. My grunting as I prepared for that last deep thrust which I would hold until I emptied my soul deep into her womanly crevice. Her body lifted to me, straining as her cries of ecstasy filled the piazza. My cries joining her as I came, the bliss of orgasm completing the moment.

I grabbed her hands, holding them amidst as sea of strangers. Our eyes fixed solely on each other. That knowing look.

And just as quickly we were alone. Two lovers. Filled with the liquid pleasure of our love.