To Cougar in Training (but you can read it too)

The dream was brief, offering me only fleeting glimpses: You - what I imagine you look like based on what I've seen of you on your blog, or what my subconscious has decided you look like - were lying in bed. Our bed ("our" referring to Jill's and mine)? I'm not sure. Maybe the bed was in a hotel room somewhere. Maybe it was your bed. I found myself unconcerned with the bed's origin and unwilling to inquire. There were other things on my mind that took precedence.

My eyes met yours, then focused on your full, inviting lips. A thin sheet clung to you, begging to be removed. Beneath, you were naked, your body every bit as flawless as I imagined and begging for exploration. Sunlight bathed your heaving breasts and soft, warm thighs. Suddenly you were sitting on the edge of the bed, legs wide to invite my exploration. My cock throbbed insistently with anticipation and need, and I hungered to be inside you.

Not yet, though. You told me what you wanted, breathlessly promising to take care of me next. I dropped down between your legs and sated my hunger, my tongue and fingers working in harmony until climax overtook you. I can still hear the sounds you made as you came. And though I remember tasting you, remember feeling you on my hands and mouth, I can't recall exactly how you tasted and how you felt. (I wish I could, of course.)

As you braced yourself, still shuddering with intense pleasure, I woke with a smile, somehow a little disappointed that I hadn't managed to sleep just a little bit longer.

To those of you who aren't Cougar in Training, if you're not yet familiar with my muse, check out her blog. You'll be glad you did.