Dream Three



My feet nestle in sand along the great lake’s edge where waves curl and flip, licking my ankles. Water begs my sweltering body to dive in, but I don’t want to cool off. Not yet. Sunlight forces my gaze to seek shade. Given there are neither trees nor umbrellas nearby, I look down.

Oh my. Sheer red fabric clings to my sweaty breasts, which are plumper than usual. A see-through sundress over nothing. Hell, I look hotter than I feel. And that’s something.

It seems I’m alone on a beach under a clear sky at noon. Free to do as I wish, I take a deep breath, draw up the red fabric, and slip fingers between my swollen folds. My touch is warm, welcoming, so my pussy slides against it. As if it’s been ages, my heart pulses faster in giddy anticipation for this unexpected opportunity. An orgasmic treat under the sky.

My most precious part contracts against my fingers as I drop to my knees on the shore. The lake splashes me, soaking my dress so it defines my nipples, bellybutton, and hips, as I tease my clit into an erection. Blood rushes through me, filling my loins as I work my way toward pleasure. Oh man, this feels…

Breath coming faster, I grind into my hand, lean back, and open my chest to the sky. My long hair grazes sand as excitement climbs toward the sun. Everything is white-hot, pressing me to seek relief, so I throw myself into pleasure. Sliding two fingers in, I rock to a rhythm so intense it sends my blood toward the point of no return. I spread my knees wide, fall to my back, and press my pelvis toward the sky. My fingertip delivers stimulation so sweet my clit needs more. More. And more. Until… Oh fuck. At the mercy of convulsions, my neck arches, forcing the crown of my head into the sand.

Heat rockets across my skin. Apparently, I’m not alone.

Breath unsteady, I slide my wet fingers up my pelvis…slowly…and roll to my belly. Propping myself on my elbows, I watch Aaron Keller stare at me with eyes fiery enough to light the sun. I’m not sure why he’s wearing jeans in this heat, but I don’t care. Jeans don’t matter when ripped abs and pecs are part of his attire. Barefoot and beautiful, he’s lying on a beach towel not twenty feet from me. A delicious circumstance.

I push myself to standing and prepare to brush off, but there’s no need. My glistening skin is covered only by a sparkling red bikini. I scan the beach, but there’s not a sundress in sight. I bite my lip. Maybe he prefers a bikini.

He’s propped on one elbow, watching me. Determined to touch this time, I stride toward him. Eagerness propels me, moving me quicker than intended, and next thing I know I’m at his side. Thrill of proximity tempts me to straddle him, but I don’t; instead, I plant my left foot an inch from his elbow, making it clear I welcome his everything.

When he leans toward my left leg and looks up the length of me, my pussy decides she wants another turn. His eyes plead for what I want to give him, and my heart replies with a skip of excitement. This is it.

I command myself to kneel. To touch. But I can’t, damn it.

I’m frozen. Again.

I watch his gaze caress my legs. My pelvis. My face. Driving the need to fill myself with the cock hiding behind that zipper.

Yes. Aaron Keller’s gaze is making me ache…for him.


This post is part of a series under the category Prelude To My Novel.

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