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My eyes switch on. Despite the apartment being its usual 65 degrees the sheets cling to my naked body. I bicycle my feet to free myself and praise the blessed air as it begins drying my damp body. My hand moves to my chest to try and still my pounding heart. What the fuck Michelle? Sex dreams are one thing, but this...Jesus. In my hands, in my mouth, in my ass, in my pussy, each hard cock as big as the next, and even more intense than the scene was my need to satisfy these fantasy men. I lay back and lightly run my fingers along my chest and belly, enjoying the slight chill I give myself as my body continues to cool. Rob was present also, but his wasn't one of the penises moving in and out of me. I'd sporadically flash to him sleeping. It didn't take Freud to figure out what this signified. My love was oblivious to the depths of my depravity. Fingers are now running along my still very wet pussy as my other hand presses roughly against my titties that are now topped with tiny nipcicles. My mind returns to the dreamscape filled with ideal men, perpetually silent and hard. Their groping resumes and soon a majority of my right hand is inside me, happily stretching, but failing to reach my most sensitive area, disappointing, but not very. Thighs clamp shut on my straining hand to pull the heel in more tightly against my clit. Oh fuck! Imagined cocks begin spewing impossible and very welcome amounts in and over my body. I can almost taste it as my orgasm approaches. What the fuck?! Who is coming in my house right now? I run down the hall and peek around the corner at the front door.

...

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