Dreamed

You had had the most wonderful dream - and you didn't see any need to let it end. Neither did they.

* * *

You woke. You had been having the most wonderful dream. Of soft hands on your body, of teasing looks, and wicked words. A gorgeous figure that took control of your body, of your arousal, leaving you weak, and needy. You wanted to bask in it, so you kept your eyes closed.

You could still almost feel the sensations across your body, hands touching, and teasing, you opened your mouth to gasp, and moan, it felt so very real. But you were awake. It was just a memory. A memory of feeling yourself pinned to a bed between their thighs.

A memory of their fingers slipping between your lips, for you to suck, and moan around. The memory of their voice in your mind. Urging you to give in, to let go, to let your pleasure control you. And it felt so good. So good to give in to the pleasure.

Before long you were writhing, needy, desperate, and begging – but begging with what? There was no one there to beg with, you were begging with a memory of a dream. It didn’t seem to matter, all that mattered was the pleasure that was invading your mind.

The pleasure that overwrote your thoughts, making you needier and needier. More and more desperate. You wanted to cum. You so desperately wanted to cum. But something held you back. Something made you wait. A new memory came from the dream.

Their body against yours, the two of you intertwined, your cries echoing around the room. You couldn’t tell where their body ended and yours began, the pleasure was blurring all perceptions of movement, and time, and need. You could last, as long as you needed to.

There were no thoughts left, no control. You were a slave to the pleasure. A slave to your dream. And it felt so good. So good to let yourself give in to all of this. And that’s when you felt the pace become more frenzied. The end was coming, the pleasure was building even further.

An endless well that filled you up and was about to burst out of you. Your body felt like it was on fire, and then – everything was blinding, even behind your closed eye lids. There was just the memory of a laugh, mixed in with the moans of pleasure.

And, after some time, as you opened your eyes, you could have sworn that you saw something in the dim gloom of the early morning. A face. Beautiful, gorgeous, with golden eyes that pierced your soul. And in your mind, the name 'Sinder' formed.