Your lips invited me to kiss them, which I did, softly at first, and then stronger, with more passion.As with dreams, things moved at a different pace... The power of dreaming removed all of our clothing with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness that is involved... just sudden intimate nakedness. A white fluffy rug was covering the floor in front of us - it must have been there from the start, but did not become a detail until this point in the dream. The wine bottle and glasses were. How would you describe it with your husband if he were me?” Mike asked.“We hardly used words. He or I would make a move and the other would respond and then we would do whatever we had in our mind. The only time I wanted to be ‘fucked’ as you put it was when I was feeling like a slut and I would suck and fuck him as a tart would,” I replied.“And are you a tart tonight? You do not appear to anything like a tart to me. What we have done so far is as I would be with Lucy or Jan.”“No, I am not a. More

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