40
This Sh*t Was No Longer A Dream
By now, I was familiar with his routine. After my daughter leaves for work, Rodney, her husband, comes upstairs to the kitchen to clean her leftover mayhem from the previous night's meal. He seems to be a very loving and attentive partner.
Our paths don't cross often. We work opposite shifts. But, I do hear him moving around the house from time to time. On my days off I usually rise early and head to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water to help arouse my at rest inner organs.
Early morning the kitchen is still a project. I ignore it. Closing my eyes to the clutter I return to my warm bed for a few more hours of nature's medicine, sleep.
During that period, faint sounds coming from the hallway reach my ears. The linen closet is next to my bedroom and Rodney is retrieving things.
Recently, I've heard them disagreeing a little more often, their voices rising a few decibels higher. Was there trouble in Paradise? I doubted it. From experience, what I seemed to be hearing was typical for any couple learning to co-exist.
I'd been noticing that Rodney was also more attentive towards me recently. When I'd get in from work at night, he would be the first to alert me that my mail was waiting for me in the kitchen, and my saved dinner plate was in the microwave.
Lately, I've also watched as his eyes gravitated to my most undeniable asset, my enticing cleavage. Whenever we occasionally had to acknowledge one another in passing, or in conversation, his challenge was diverting his gaze. I couldn't blame him. My twins still had the power to make men gaze and fantasize. These days, I gotta include the women gazers too.
This particular morning, I was past horny. My sexual frustration had been building for days. My attitude gets nastier when I need some dick, and if I don't get satisfied it takes me a few days to eventually work through it.
During that needy period, I tend to dress sexier. Calf-length boots, tighter dresses, form fitting pants, no panties of course, and like I said, the deep cleavage. Men notice, and so do women, and they either get jealous, desirous, or disdainful. Haters!
I need to be fucked, but for now, I don't have that special someone to quench my needy thirst. If I can't do anything else but tease a cock into wanting me, why not have some fun?
I retrieved my early morning water and returned to my bedroom. Rodney's dick was on my mind. How to get him to take what I was trying to offer was the dilemma I faced. What could I do without being too direct to get him to act on his noticeable desire to fuck his Mother-in-Law. My plan was forming.
I sleep naked, and I'm a rough sleeper. I tend to get too warm underneath the covers and wake up lying on top of everything, my naked body exposed.
This particular morning, I'm in tease mode. I intentionally left my bedroom door partially open so that when Rodney walked by on his routine morning visit to the linen closet, he would get an eyeful of my horny nakedness. I'm also a stomach sleeper, so my tush would be his to observe and enjoy: a little fun, no real harm done.
I was building the foundation for another dream fantasy. And dream I did. I quickly went into a deep sleep, REM. I seem to have the same recurring dreams when I'm in the need to be fucked mode.
Half asleep, I didn't know how much time had passed when I heard the door to the linen closet close and his louder than a whisper exclamation in the hallway. "Wow!" He blurted out. I smiled. Mission accomplished. Now, he had visions for his next jerk-off session. I went back to my Zzz's.
My sex fantasies become dreams. I dream about getting fucked. In one episode, I'm double penetrated by two faceless men. One lies underneath me with his hard cock shoved up my ass while the other dominates my slippery wet cunt. He has one leg in the middle position, and his other overlaps mine and his friend. I'm getting good dream dick.
They're pleasing me, fucking me rough, and I love it. I give them the pleasure of coming inside both entrances.
In another dream, I'm being gangbanged by three co-workers in the break room at my job. Each one had been thirsting to get their cocks in me. They take turns ramming their fat cocks into my hot, hungry pussy. A hard cock was in my mouth continuously while the other two focused on my other gifts.
Their contrasting scents mix and create an insatiable desire, and I'm giving as much as I'm taking. The one pumping my mouth mesmerizes me with his gray eyes. He acts like the one in charge. He pulls out of my mouth and says to the one nearest him loving on one of my D-cups. "We're gonna have fun with this pussy." His partner plunges his finger in my wet box.
Um, that feels so good, I sleepily thought to myself. That finger rotating in my pussy, brushing against my clit had me tingling all over. I was mentally talking to myself. Ooh, yes, keep working it in me, that feels so good. Damn, this dream feels more real than ever.
I could feel two fingers exploring my vagina as if they were part of a real hand. Was I having a wet dream? Because my pussy was getting wetter by the moment.
Not right. Something's not right. This dream feels too good and too real. I turned over to my other cheek, and shockingly, next to my bed, staring unashamedly at me, was Rodney. He had knelt next to my bed, his silk robe hanging open, exposing his hard, straight-arrow cock, pointing straight up at me.
He didn't say a word. He just stared into my eyes as if to say, at this moment, words don't matter. He was a man who saw an open invitation to some raw, need to be fucked pussy, and couldn't resist the attraction.
When I thought of my plan to tease him, I never envisioned Rodney going this far. When I left my door ajar, I thought seeing me like this might spice up his fantasy life, but never, ever, did I visualize him fucking me in real time.
"Rodney, we shouldn't, I said. It's not right." He didn't stop fingering me, and in the real world, I didn't want him to....but. His fingers felt like magic in my pussy, and dammit, "you really should stop now," I said to him, unconvincingly. But, I did intentionally leave open the door, foolishly thinking that he would be too afraid to walk through it.
