Chapter 9

Sarah

When I close my eyes, all I see is Graham. His face flashes before me, and I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my body, or the way he pinned me against the wall. His cock was hard in his pants, and I wanted it inside me. I’m horny when I go to bed, but I’m too tired to take care of myself and I fall asleep, instead.

He’s everywhere in my dreams. I’m lying on a bed, naked, and he stands in front of me, staring.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, Sarah,” Dream Graham says to me, and his hand is so soft and gentle. It caresses my skin almost like a physical touch.

My breathing is shallow and erratic. I swallow hard and look down at his dick. Dream Graham is rock hard and ready for me. His balls hang heavy, and his cock strains into the air.

“So, come and get me,” I say. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I’m confident, arrogant even. I know he wants me. It’s his fault this hasn’t happened yet, and if he wants to make it happen, he should do something about it. I’m not going to run after him.

And I don’t have to. Dream Graham gets onto the bed, his cock bobbing as he moves, and the mattress dips under his weight. When he crawls over me, I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. He hovers his mouth over mine, and I breathe in the scent of him before he kisses me.

His hands are all over my body, caressing my curves, squeezing my breasts and my ass before he plunges his fingers inside of me. I cry out, writhing, reeling with desire. God, I want him to fuck me.

The moment I think it, he does. His body is over mine, his cock at my entrance, and the next thing I know, he’s inside me. But I’m not on my back anymore. I’m bent over on my knees in front of him, and he slams into me. He takes my arms and pulls my body up and back so that my back arches as he slams into me.

When I wake up with a jolt, the darkness in the room folds around me. The dream was so vivid. The images still flash before my eyes, and I’m breathing hard like we were really doing it. I can still feel an echo of his cock inside me.

I lay back on the pillows and scrub my face with my hands. My pajama pants and long-sleeved shirt are uncomfortable on my skin — irritating — and even though it’s cold outside, I wriggle under the covers until I’ve gotten rid of my pants. I pull the shirt over my head and snuggle back into the covers, naked.

Being naked between the covers is an experience I always associate with sex — I don’t sleep naked — and I’m so turned on, I don’t know how to control it. I run my hands over my body, feeling my breasts, my stomach and my hip bones that protrude a little because I’m lying on my back. When I push my fingers into my own slit, I’m wet and I moan, both because of how I feel and because my fingers graze my clit and it’s the attention my body wants.

I tease myself. I want to draw it out. I run my hands over my body, purposely avoiding all the areas that really want to be touched.

When I finally run my fingers over my clit again, slipping up and down my hard nub, I moan. I rub myself faster and faster, eager for a release. The orgasm builds, and I gasp as it washes over me.

When it subsides, I’m not nearly as satisfied as I want to be. Usually, after one orgasm, it’s enough, and I can go back to sleep. This time, I want more. My fingers aren’t enough. What I really want is Graham’s cock inside me.

I get out of bed and pad naked across the carpet to my closet. The air is chilly, but I don’t care. I’m hot and bothered, and I don’t waste time with a robe or anything.

At the bottom of my closet, I dig out a box of sex toys. I have a few small things — a finger vibrator, a bullet vibrator, a full-sized vibrator. I take out the full-sized version, put away the box, and get back in bed.

The sound of the vibrator is an intrusion in the night, killing my mood a little with its incessant buzzing, but when I press it against my clit, already sensitive after my assault and the first orgasm, I cry out and forget about the sound. The vibrations rock through my core, and I cry out. I slide the vibrator up and down my slit, coating it with my wetness before I push it into me.

It’s not a very big vibrator, but it’s enough to make me shudder. I pump it in and out of me, fucking myself, imaging it’s Graham’s cock hammering in and out of me. I gasp and moan, changing the speed of the vibrations, my legs open and my back arched, and the second orgasm sweeps through me, drawing a shout out of my mouth.

I breathe hard, my chest rising and falling. I reach for my breast and tweak my nipple, pinching it lightly and tugging on it. I slide the vibrator, slick now with my own sex, to my clit, and I shudder. The vibrations are almost painful — I’m that sensitive — but it’s pure pleasure, and I tip my head back and push for another orgasm. I doubt I’ll be satisfied with another one, unless it’s Graham fucking me, I won’t be happy, but this is better than nothing.

I rub my clit with the rounded tip of the dildo, but I imagine that it’s Graham, using his tongue on me. In my mind, he’s eating me out, licking my pussy or closing his mouth over my clit and sucking on me. God, I want him to take over my whole body.

While his mouth is on my pussy, I want him to plunge his finger into me, finger-fucking me while he makes me come with his tongue and his lips. I cry out as the feelings intensify, but I’m on the edge of the orgasm and unable to tip over.

I start thinking wilder things. I want Graham to grab my hair, pulling my head so that he nibbles on my exposed neck. He pushes his cock inside me while he holds me in the position he wants me, and I cry out as the third orgasm shatters me.

I drop the dildo, and it vibrates pointlessly on the bed, distracting, irritating. I reach for it and switch it off. I’m breathing hard, and I’m lightheaded after breathing so heavily for a while. My body feels numb, tingly, and I curl into a ball and roll to my side. There’s so much wetness between my legs, I can feel it without my fingers.

When I finally calm down, I get up from the bed and carry the toy to the bathroom. I clean myself, and then wrap a robe around my naked body. I wash the toy off with the cleaning solution I bought especially for it. Before I get in bed again, I put the toy back in its box in my closet. I drop the robe, put on my pajamas, and crawl between the covers.

I’m not aching with sexual desire anymore, but it’s not completely gone yet. I don’t think it will be until Graham fucks me. I need him to fuck me. After that dream, I want the real thing.

I’m so wound up because he keeps leading me to the edge without taking me further. Twice, Graham and I have made out, and it would have led to more if he hadn’t gotten his damn phone calls. I hate that we keep getting interrupted. I want him to take me to the bedroom, strip me of my clothes, and have his way with me.

It will happen soon, too, if I get my way. I want him to do it all to me — everything I imagined and everything I dreamed. A man doesn’t have batteries and extra abilities the way a dildo or other vibrators have, but no matter how fancy the toys get, nothing beats good, old-fashioned cock. Nothing is as satisfying as being fucked thoroughly by a man. And I want to be fucked thoroughly by Graham.