I often relisten to recordings of yours, but (unsurprisingly?) “Mesmerized by my breasts” gets the most played (even now, listening to it on the train to work while typing this) – but I’ve always been mesmerized by your breasts (often tines, I listen while flipping through photos I have of you).
However, I wasn’t listening to this when I had the waking dream. I was, in the dream, though. I was on a bed in a lightly lit room, noise cancelling headphones on, eyes closed, letting my fingers trace over my body, enjoying the sensations.
I become aware of the sensation of nipples sliding along my legs, up my calves and thighs, and marvel at the tactile hallucinations your recordings can cause. I drift deeper, as the feeling of nipples gives way to feeling the soft flesh of breasts sliding along my flesh, up my legs, over my stomach and chest, even my face. I go deeper, losing myself in your voice and the feelings it is arousing.
I am not surprised when the sensations settle down around my thighs, the feeling of breasts
Enveloping my cock driving me deeper still.
And then, I feel pressure, as if they are being tightly pressed around me, and then the motion, a slow sliding. My eyes drift open, looking down, and seeing you there, between my legs.
I wonder if I am dreaming when your fingernails in my thighs tell me that I’m not as my hips buck and arch up against you, driving me deeper between your breasts. Your eyes lock on mine as you start to move, in spite of the noise cancelling headphones your motions flow and time perfectly with your voice.
My eyes, at your command, at the utterance of the word breasts, go to your breasts, my world existing of nothing but your breasts around my cock. I alternate between lying plank still, not wanting to move and break this spell, and grinding my hips up against you. And still, your voice in my ears, an aural assault along side the physical sensations , all other distractions and thoughts exiting my mind.
(Do you know how hard it is to type when your voice is telling me to go blank?)
As the voice utters “my pleasure is your pleasure”, my ability to breathe is challenged, the tightness of your breasts being wrapped around me, your hard nipples pressing into my skin, I get harder still, the tension building in my body, begging you, either physical you or aural you, for permission for release. As the voice tells me to get closer and closer to the edge.
Your voice stars to count down, my mind and body go frantic with desire, a trembling and shuddering growing deep inside of me, by five the first sounds escaping my lips, a gutteral hotel that grows into a roar as I erupt between your breasts, covering your breasts and my stomach with cum, and it just keeps coming, and keeps coming, blacking out from the intensity of the orgasm.
I come to, as you count four and then five in my ears. My eyes open again, blinking disorientedly in the light of an empty room.