I dreamt that you and I fucked.
A dream, that felt so real it could quite easily have been a memory of the reality rather than a dream of an illusion. When I woke I really had to stop and work out whether it was a dream, reality or an illusion.
I was aroused. I was wet.
I dreamt that you and I fucked.
We were there. You know the place we always liked to be. The place we have been so many times before.
Except we weren't.
You kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. Hard.
Except you didn't.
I pulled you closer, and I remember so clearly the way that you touched me. I remember so vividly the feeling of your hand in between my legs as I orgasmed over your fingers, watching your face as you licked each finger clean.
I remember every feeling, every moan, every escaped breath.
You were wearing black. And blue. I said how apt as I wanted to mark you black and blue. I removed your clothes, forced your head between my thighs as I melted into that most wonderful moment as your tongue plunged deep inside me.
Except it didn't.
The orgasm you brought me to when your fingers plunged into my ass. The wetness glistening over your face as you looked up at me.
Except it wasn't.
And I asked you to fuck me.
Just in the way we had always enjoyed fucking. Fast, Hard. Deep. And I felt it. I felt you. And I orgasmed as you came inside me.
Except you didn't.
But I dreamt of you last night. You fucked me.
And it was just how I always remembered.
Except JoJo. This time we didn't.
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