I was having the most erotic and sexiest dream of my life. I was in bed, it was the middle of the night and my husband was a mere three feet away, maybe a little more. I knew he was there, but it didn't matter. He had a serious road accident many years ago and has suffered with back trouble ever since.
It has resulted in us buying a super duper orthopaedic bed, it is in one enormous 7ft frame, but we have different mattresses. Mine is a normal one, his is all singing all dancing. It can sit up, prop his feet up, tip from side to side, whichever way he wants to lay, at the press of buttons he can find it. He leads a near normal life, goes to work and his desk chair is a supersonic chair as well.
He also has to wear a back brace, which has dealt a near death blow to our sex life. Hence I have a few different vibrators. And shamefully, to me, twice in the past, I have to confess I have stepped off my moral platform and on to the other side of the tracks, purely for gratification I assure you.
But this dream was so real I let it carry me to where it was going. My nipples were being kissed and sucked, tweaked and nibbled. It was so glorious, in my dream I put my knuckles into my mouth to keep myself from moaning. My lover knew exactly where I needed him, I knew who he was, but he was also a stranger, I could see him plainly, yet he was in a haze.
His breath on my cheek burned me up with passion, I wanted to cum. He kissed me softly, gently, urgently, need fully, passionately. My lips were quivering, my tongue touched his, I sucked on it. His hand cupped my cunt, I sleep naked in the warm summer months, and under a soft flannelette sheet, nothing more.
As his finger found me I raised my knees and parted them, I wanted my lover to have full access to all of me. I looked at my husband, he was snoring peacefully. I looked at the clock, it was 4.12 in the morning. I looked at me in my dream, and I smiled at me. My smile was happy, yet I could feel the desperation in me, I needed to cum and badly.
I am Laura James, I am good looking, more good looking than beautiful. I am 5ft 5" and weigh around 125lbs, I am cuddly now, something to get hold in my opinion. My hair is still as black as the day I was born. There is some South American or Asian blood in me. My eyes are wide and deep dark, eyes brows that need no attention, a pert nose, and full heart shaped lips. My hair is still glossy, thick, and silky. I wear it short into my neck, it doesn't have a parting as such, but I keep a long fringe, the dangles and catch my long eye lashes.
My face and my hair are my man eye poppers, Jerry, my husband hates it, but I love the attention I still get. Laughingly, and sometimes, if I am annoyed at him. I say to him sometimes.
"I may need to find me a man who can keep me happy, Jerry, you can't now can you?" And to be honest when we have discussed our 'none' sex life, he has hinted that me dipping my foot into the water, he says, He wouldn't be happy, but he would understand.
So here I am, in my dream with my dream lover who is killing me with his sexiness and the need for him to make love to me. Then wonder of wonders he is leaning over me. I take him in my arms and he sinks into me, my feet climb his broad back, my hands take him, my nails gently but firmly rake his hard iron back. Oh I love digging my talons in, or I used to back in the day! And I am full of him, his shaft is stiff and hard.
I bite his neck softly, but also to stifle my cry of bliss, he moves in me, I move to him, he is right on top of me, his shaft splitting me, I cum, he pushes and presses, I cum again, my life is at last fulfilled once more. He kisses me with his love, I kiss him back with mine, then he grunts softly, I feel him jerk and spasm, I jerk and spasm with him. He fills me with his cum, it explodes in me, it over flows.
My life as I know it is complete again. Then he is gone, leaving me totally happy and completely sad. I love him, I want him again, I want to tell Jerry I have been found and my life has been saved. When I open my eyes, the bright new day is streaming the windows, morning light is with me.
I lament at losing my lover, I want to dream of him again. I turn to Jerry who is still asleep and then I feel it, my body is wonderfully sore, my nipples are aching, my lips are slightly bruised. But then I feel my vagina, it is wet, it is wet with cum.
Was it a dream? It had to be, what else could have been so real without being real? But I had all the hall marks of being made love to, to being dreamily seduced and loved by my dream lover. I got up, and hurried into the bathroom, there I examined myself, there was no doubt about it. I had made love, I had been made love to, I was bruised and I was full of cum, man cum.
I raced back into the bedroom, the evidence was there on the bed, cum stains, wet cum stains, almost a puddle of my own, but definitely man cum too. I shot back into the bathroom, got clean sheets and quickly remade my half of the bed. I threw the dirty linen into the basket for washing. Then I showered, I was in shock, yet the glorious feeling of being night fucked was about me like a steel jacket.
"Antony," I thought, "Antony is the only other other man in the house," I raced around the house looking for a break in, had I been raped? Nothing, my home was a secure as a bank vault, it always is, No one could get in without being detected. "Antony," I thought again, my own son? "No, it couldn't have been?"
Okay, I said to myself then who? My husband? Not a chance, I was there remember, I told myself. I sat in my kitchen remembering the glory of it all, It was so real. Then realisation, it was real! I had the marks, my aching nipples, my wonderful bodily soreness, and the undeniable cum in me, and stains on my sheets. My pussy well remembered the stiff hard shaft, no question about that. It was real, it had happened!
Jerry came down, "Morning Laura, you seem a bit agitated, are you alright?" he asked me.
"I am fine Jerry thank you, I think?" I answered. "Are you, did you sleep well?"
"Like a log," he told me, "listen Laura, I know its Saturday and we go shopping, but there are few things I need to do in the office. I'll be gone 3 or 4 hours, will that be okay?"
"Yes Jerry," I said, "have a coffee and get off, I'll see you later." He left about 20 minutes later.
"What shall I do about my son Antony," my mind had made itself up, it could be no one but him, absolutely no one. I had decided. "What had he been thinking, coming into our bedroom and doing that, all hell would have been let loose if his father had woken up.
After much toing and froing in my head, I made my way up to have a talk with him. I opened his door quietly, he was still asleep, he was turned toward the window and away from me, with the covers down to his waist. I looked at him, he was so peaceful. I was about to step in when my eye sight caught some thing. He had what looked like nail marks on his back, my nail marks. I thought about where my right hand would have been when I held on to my lover. Then I thought about where my left hand would have been too. And I pictured them to be right where the marks on my son's back were. It was him, it had to be! My son had seduced me in my sleep, he had made love to me, my son had fucked me to heaven and back.
Now I knew my dream had been more real than I could ever have imagined. I felt a sudden rush of love for him, last night, months, if not years of frustration had seeped out of me through the very pores of my skin. I had had unimaginable joy of sexual release, dissatisfaction had been banished. I had had plenty of love but nothing to show for it. My boy had somehow, for some reason seen it, noted it, known it, and decided, bless him to do something about it.
The fact that it was wrong, was it? I wondered, made no difference to him, he loved me, he loved me enough to take his life, my life, our life, in his hands and love me. And standing there staring at him I could not bring myself to decry him.
I found myself sitting on the edge of his bed, facing up it, not away. My hands in my lap, what should I do. I willed him to waken, he stirred as if in response. His head whipped around over his shoulder, and he saw me looking at him. The look on my face must have said something to him.
"Mom," he mumbled and turned back and dropped down on to his pillow again.
"Darling," I whispered, though my voice was throaty, husky. "Can we talk please?" I begged.
