Guest Room Reveries

The scent of lavender and something undeniably primal hung in the air, a constant reminder of the changes in our lives. Lately, my wife, Eleanor, and I had been sleeping in separate beds, a decision born not of discontent, but of a new mattress – a plush, cloud-like behemoth that I found unbearably soft, robbing me of a decent night’s rest. Eleanor, however, adored it, stretching out across its expanse like a contented cat, and she seemed to revel in the increased space. As a result, I’d taken to the guest room, a stark contrast with its firm, supportive mattress. It was a welcome relief, allowing me to finally sink into a deep, restful sleep. But even with the change in bedding, our intimacy hadn’t diminished; quite the opposite, in fact.

In the past, sharing a bed often led to impromptu awakenings, driven by a sudden surge of desire. We'd find ourselves entangled in the darkness, making love in the quiet solitude of the night, only to drift back to sleep, exhausted but fulfilled. Now, sleeping apart meant those spontaneous moments were gone. Instead, Eleanor frequently snuck into my bed early in the morning, her presence a silent invitation. Or, as a more direct approach, when I tucked her in at night, if the mood struck, we’d indulge in passionate encounters before returning to our respective beds. The dynamics had shifted, but the fire between us burned brighter than ever.

Last night, or rather, this morning, I awoke in my bed, still immersed in a particularly vivid dream. It was a masterpiece of sensual indulgence, a perfect recreation of a fantasy I’d long harbored. Eleanor was clad in a provocative little red fringed panties and bra ensemble, the bra barely containing her ample breasts, the fringes teasingly revealing their supple curves. The bra itself was a flimsy thing, mostly just the delicate fringe, leaving her nipples exposed and begging for attention. As I lay there, lost in the heat of the dream, I watched as her nipples, hard and sensitive, poked through the fringes, an exquisite torture of pleasure.

My mind conjured the scene in excruciating detail. I was lying on my back, gazing up at the ceiling, while Eleanor, astride me, began to grind herself against my body with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was both overwhelming and exhilarating. My cock, responding to her touch, began to harden, drawing me deeper into the fantasy. I could feel the warmth of her pussy against my cock through the thin fabric of her panties, her wetness seeping through, intensifying the pleasure. My hands instinctively reached out, stroking her breasts through the fringes on her top, rolling her nipples between my fingertips, savoring the building heat.

As she bent down, she offered me the chance to lick and suck on her nipples, her body still grinding against my cock, creating an even more intense experience. My hands slid down her lithe body, caressing her ass, tracing the curve of her hips before gently rubbing her lips against her dampness. The scent of her, a heady mix of perfume and arousal, filled my senses, driving me further into the dream. She kissed me deeply on the lips, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, before sitting up and swinging her legs over mine. She turned her back to me, allowing me to see the extent of her arousal, the wetness of her panties a constant temptation.

As she took hold of my cock with her hand, pulling me closer, her fingers danced across the head, rubbing it against her pussy lips and her clit. The friction was intense, sending shivers down my spine. I felt a primal urge to thrust deep into her, but knowing her penchant for prolonging pleasure, I held back, allowing her to take her time. She continued rubbing my cock against her pussy through her panties, kneeling over me, facing away, and I ran my hands down her ass, up to her pussy, feeling the heat radiating from her. She was already so wet, so utterly consumed by her desire.

Finally, she held my cock still and slowly eased her pussy down on the head, while I held her panties to the side with my fingers. I could see her pussy lips pushing down over my cock, feeling the warmth and wetness of her pussy surrounding my cock. She raised and lowered herself repeatedly over the head, each movement a slow, deliberate act of dominance and submission. It was pure, unadulterated bliss. Just as I thought I couldn't endure another moment, she swung off of me, bending over, and slipped her lips over my cock, swirling her tongue around the head, kissing and sucking, teasing and tormenting. The sensation was almost unbearable, pushing me to the very edge of ecstasy. Then, as I struggled to maintain control, she held me firmly, her body arching against mine, and slowly eased her pussy down upon my cock. I clung to her, lost in the moment, desperate to feel the full force of her pleasure.

As she continued to caress my cock, her wetness intensifying my own arousal, I felt a powerful urge to finally give in, to lose myself completely in her embrace. With a final surge of energy, I thrust deep into her, our bodies locked in a passionate union. The sensation was overwhelming, a torrent of pleasure that left me breathless and spent. Just as I began to come, she pulled away, her body shaking with delight. She held my cock in her hand, slowly releasing her grip, allowing me to savor the final moments of the encounter.

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she slid her hand down between us and took hold of my cock, pulling it up and running her fingers along its length. The touch was electrifying, igniting a fresh wave of desire. She continued rubbing my cock against her pussy through her panties, feeling her lips brushing against my shaft, before finally releasing me completely.

As I lay there, exhausted but exhilarated, my wife’s scent clinging to my skin, I realized that the real sex that followed up on my sexy dream was even more intense and fulfilling than anything I could have imagined. The early morning love-making session that followed was a testament to the enduring passion between us, a reminder that even without the comfort of our shared bed, our connection remained strong and vibrant. It was a perfect start to the day, a delicious blend of fantasy and reality, leaving me feeling both satisfied and eager for more. The lingering warmth on my skin, the scent of her perfume, and the memory of her touch would stay with me long after the sun rose, a constant reminder of the pleasure I had found in her arms. As I prepared to retire for the day, I knew that the night ahead held the promise of more shared intimacy, more whispered secrets, and more moments of pure, unadulterated bliss. And who knows, perhaps I’d dream of her again, clad in a provocative little red fringed panties and bra ensemble, her nipples begging for attention.

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