DIRTY SHORT EROTICA STORIES FOR WOMEN

Last night I had a dream about you. Before I could change my mind, I pressed SEND. I worried for two seconds before my phone rang, almost knocking it over the floor. I was immediately greeted with an Oh, really? There was a casual playfulness in her voice, but there was something deeper too. Down, little one. I shouldn't have informed you. I was only sorry because my mind went to her partner, who was as beautiful as an apple tart. I appreciate it. My morning was a disaster before you emailed me that. Why? What exactly is going on? I'm sitting in a café and writing. Will you meet me here we could catch up, write and over caffeine...So, I put my shoes on and headed out the door towards the town's seemingly lonely coffee shop. I pondered where this dream had come from as I walked through my neighborhood feeling uncomfortably stimulated by my troubling vision. I thought about our past and there wasn't much to say. I wasn't her biggest fan when we first met. She drank too much, was always high, and outrageously flirted with me... all in a skirt, which may have been her only nice trait, except that it was usually sloppy and rude in front of her friend. As a result, I found her quite repulsive. One evening, while out with a large group of friends, I made it clear that I wasn't impressed. She must have been embarrassed because while she continued to flirt, she obviously toned it down. A month later I noticed them more often. She had definitely worked hard to improve her image and soon won me over. She won me over with wit and humor, but also with her politeness and sharpness - her sobriety had changed her. The last time I saw her, she invited me to dance. I declined at first but had no choice as she was throwing me those sad puppy eyes one second and taking me to the dance floor the next. We had a good time, but it seemed extremely innocent, as is usually the case. As always...until last night's dream which was so real, I woke up hot and wet. At the memory, I felt the same intense pulse in my c******s, making walking not only uncomfortable but also impossible to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Luckily (or unfortunately?) I had arrived at the front entrance of the café. Now all I had to do was go inside and confront her. I was sure that she would see the love on my face and give me her mischievous smile. She just lifted her head and waved me over. She got up from her chair and hugged me, which made my heartbeat faster. For once, I got the impression that her contact with me was more innocent than mine. It was hard being so close to her with the shadow of the dream. After what seemed like two hours, thirty-seven minutes and about five billion seconds, I was finally allowed to sit on the bench at her table. She sat down next to me, too close for comfort, and I winced a little. So, tell me... she began, but I cut her off by asking why her day had been so bad, changing the subject before she could finish. A cloud passed over her and said, oh, you know. Same age, same age... Then, with a wink, she returned to the main theme. I would like to know about your dream. To be honest I'm not sure. As I thought about it, I realized I don't know much about you. We've been writing buddies for a long time, but I don't know much about you apart from your everyday life and what you write. You must share if I share. I accepted, although I had no idea how to fulfill my part of the arrangement. I couldn't even look her in the eye. She updated me on her writer's block, which led to a discussion about school, then open relationships, which spilled over into politics, and finally back to writing. You have a deadline, huh? I remarked as the conversation ended. She nodded. I guess I better get back to work. I got up and went to the bathroom. I finally breathed alone and protected in the small toilet area and thought about how I had avoided telling her. So, for now I took a few more. I didn't have to pee; I just wanted an excuse to get away from her; the tension was too much for me with her lips so close. Returning to the table, I sat down opposite her, away from her skin. She looked at her screen, hoping for something. I opened my laptop and thought how narrow the table was and how the backs of our displays had to touch. That too seemed a little too personal to me. I squirmed a little, distracted myself by clicking away: open a new page, choose just the right font, then switch to another and decrease the font size ever so slightly. My screen gradually lowered as she pushed from the other side, forcing me to meet her cheeky, interested gaze. Don't think I've forgotten you - it's time. I'm sorry, we've been talking too long and now we both have to get back to work. I turned my screen back up. I was about to pull myself together when an IM popped up on my computer, its words flashing in my face: Do you have to write? Alright. Create it No, you must complete your article. I am disabled. I need some motivation OK... But only because it will make an interesting narrative. And I should write anyway. And with that, I revealed the secret of my subconscious that had surfaced the night before by scribbling horrible things about her on her. Things I would never say, at least not to anyone but a lover. It all started with an auction in my imagination. I kind of agreed to be auctioned off for some kind of charity. I was concerned as the gay men in the background in front of me had bid high on a nice MTF and I knew I wasn't going to make nearly as much money - only gay men usually have that kind of money lying around. But I took the stage with a grin and my price quickly climbed into the hundreds of dollars. A bidding war ensued between you and my ex, and it was clear you weren't going to back down. So, my ex politely said goodbye and you won. As I approached the edge of the stage, you reached out your hand to help me down. You’re hungry and devouring gaze was on mine. We went to your girlfriend's table and sat down. She was on your left and I was on your right, making it difficult for us to connect. What do we do now? You said in my ear I didn't know, so I made something up. I think you deserve three kisses. And just at that moment our fingers interlocked, moments before electricity flashed, and the tension built as they did so. Our fingers squeezed tightly together as if they were our bodies, the longing thick and building until it became excruciating, and we knew we had to find a more private place now. You explained yourself to your partner and she agreed - obviously there was some sort of agreement. We crashed into what looked like a giant tent and collapsed on several blankets and pillows after hurtling down a flight of stairs in a single file. To prolong the agony, I got on my knees and started fiddling with the lights to get the optimal lighting. You couldn't take it anymore (me neither) so you pulled yourself and me up to you, the little space between us suddenly filled with such heat and desire, fervor and longing. We had dived into that first kiss, engulfed it, tore each other apart like we'd wanted it for years, both breathing heavily and our eyes locking - a rapid pulse racing out of you and into me. I've wanted you for years I had been so busy putting my fantasy into words that I almost forgot I was writing to a single person. Stop doing that. Seriously, I have. And now I'm here. Your words put me in a waking dream. It's a fantasy. Typing this now feels like destroying reality. You disturb my focus if you don't stop, I'll lose it, and then it's gone. As she read these lines, she stopped typing and I refocused, closed my eyes, and returned to my dream. I started banging on the computer again, searching the depths of my mind for words that suited my passion. We fell to the ground again. We banged into each other, searing and fierce, with rage and madness. Your hands exploring, limbs entwined, my lips unwilling to leave yours, your tongue wrapped around mine. We didn't care if we could even breathe, let alone remember. Gripping, frantic, pushing each other harder and harder, and knowing we had to stay above the thin layer of fabric that separated lips from hardness, fingers from moisture. I knew it, I despised it, and yet it made that first kiss even more intense. The embers grabbed us so tight we thought we might suffocate. That first kiss lasted at least an hour, if not more. I could feel you rubbing against me, your c**k stiff on my thigh. They want me to do more to acknowledge its existence. I wanted to sit on you with my legs apart and ride out this orgasm that was on the brink from the start and was now making me dizzy. If only for a short time. I knew it would all be too fleeting for me - wanting more, always wanting more. Instead, I reached down and touched your hardness, trying to relieve you, hoping the relief would last more than a minute. You moaned deep in my mouth the moment my hand made contact, your tongue traveled further, the vibration echoing down the back of my neck, piercing me as I prayed. I took your c**k in my hand and rubbed it up and down like my p***y would, we both too aroused to waste time. I stroked you firmly, moving as fast as I could with the protective layer between my hand and a strong grip around you. You were so obsessed with passion that you pushed at a feverish pace - an approaching eruption bursting at the seams - your tongue working with unfathomable speed. The way you moved your tongue in my mouth was something I had never experienced before, and it moved so fast that it was impossible for me to focus on my work. So, I started sucking on it, which temporarily calmed you down only to make you a lot more eager. You're back in charge and tongue f****d my mouth hard while contemplating how my lips would feel around your c**k. And then the stitches broke, and you erupted with the ferocity of a herd of bulls charging through a brick wall - spouting so hard I felt it tear right through me and I threw my whole weight on you, leaving me exhausted and fed up and now. We lay there in ecstasy for a few minutes before remembering we had to go back. So, we straightened our clothes, ran our fingers over each other's hair, and continued on our journey. On the way up you pinned me against a stairwell wall and all the hunger returned, flooding us, and you cupped my chin in your palm and pulled me in for another kiss. You were stopped by me don’t you think you've used up your three kisses? You just smiled and shook your head. This is only the second. This time you kissed me tenderly, gently, and with such intent that I felt like I was melting into a million tiny droplets of water and falling off. You wrapped your arm around me, one hand on the small of my back, the other cupping my face and you gently untied my legs and nuzzled the tip of your c**k against the moisture that had gathered there. As our second kiss deepened, you crushed me in a circular motion; I let out a small moan, cold concrete on my shoulder blades, leaning into you. My whispers grew more frequent and boisterous, and I felt a grin spread across my lips. You gently pulled your face away, leaving me in this vulnerable position, and you stared into my eyes. Just wait and see how the third kiss goes. You gently let go of my hand and motioned for me to go up the stairs. As I walked away, I felt your gaze travel up my legs to my ass. After typing for so long, my fingers stopped. I took a deep breath after a short period of silence as I stared at the screen in disbelief. Then what? She tapped the keyboard. That's all. I came to, my screen gently lowered again and I looked into her eyes. She was looking at me the same way she was in my dream and that, along with the wetness in my pantyhose, was the most painful thing I've ever felt. I am sorry... I can't... And with that I ran to the bathroom. I started closing and locking the door, again safe from her sight as she burst in, standing between me and the door. I would want my third kiss.