Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

My dream last night:

We have a mutually beneficial arrangement, my friend and I. It took a lot of discussion, before we got there, but we’ve firmly established that we can each be exactly what the other one wants and nothing more. In fact, we’ve figured out, quite conveniently, that our desires are so complimentary that in this one particular way it’s like we were meant for each other. He was looking for a girl who he can feel free to take whatever he wants from sexually, and I was looking for someone whose desires I was comfortable enough with that I could give him free rein to assume.

I like it when he assumes. He’s visiting from out of town, and when we get home from dinner, he walks up to me where I’m sitting on the couch and pulls his cock out for me to suck.

“Yes?” he says.

“I just need a condom,” I reply, and when he returns with one I happily take him into my mouth, sucking him deeply into my throat.
I love cock sucking. The feeling of his hand in my hair, the sound of him moaning, the sensations in my mouth and mind, it’s one of my favorite things. I’ve been wanting this since he stepped off the bus and into my car, but we don’t have the sort of relationship where I usually feel like I can ask. I like it better when he asks, anyway. It’s even better when it’s what he wants and what he decides to take.

This is why it’s so surprising to me to discover that I’ve fallen asleep sucking his cock and ended up face first on the floor.

“Rona?”

“I’m so sorry. It’s not that I’m not enjoying myself, but I was up talking to the guy I’m seeing until almost 3 a.m. I must be really tired.”

“Do you mind if I?”

I feel his fingers catch in the waistband of my underwear and start to drag them down my hips.

“I don’t seem to be awake enough to help you, but please, if you want to. Please do.”

All of a sudden I heard male voices talking. No one else was in the house, and I couldn’t figure out how I’d left the TV on and not noticed it before now. Still, that had to be it. I felt his hands move on my hips, positioning me and…

The doorbell rang. Waking me up.

I dragged myself out of bed to find two Jehovah’s Witnesses standing in the snow on my front porch.

“You did not just wake me up to proselytize me?!?!?!?!” I said.

They looked at me, with my hair in disarray, eyes still mostly closed and apologized.

“Have a nice day,” I said, and closed the door in their faces before heading back to bed.

–
That’s how I woke up this morning. Ripped from a really hot sex dream to answer the door for two Jehovah’s witnesses. I should have made the young one make it up to me. I should have brought him inside the house and said:

“You want to fill my mind with your words? Well first you have to fill my body with your cock. Proselytize all you want, but you ripped me away from a dream where I was about to get gloriously and thoroughly fucked and there’s a price you have to pay for that. You have to do it yourself.”

Instead, however, I simply went back to bed. I couldn’t sleep, though, with this dream, this ridiculous dream, filling my mind. I had to write it down before I forgot it, so that next time I speak to the friend who played such a featured role I could make him laugh and forget his troubles. I imagine the conversation will go something like this…

“That dream you posted in your sex blog was about me, wasn’t it?”

“Duh.”

“You dreamed you were so tired that you fell asleep sucking my cock?”

“Yes, and then you fucked me anyway, as I lay there too exhausted to think or move. It was really hot.”

“I should do that sometime.”

“Whenever you want.”

“Excellent. I think think this should be a plan.”

Hopefully if it does happen we won’t be interrupted by more Jehovah’s witnesses. Fuck it though. If we are, he can be the one who goes to answer the door.