Depressed woman finds comfort in a dream guy.

Linda has been depressed for a long time due to some issues and in one night this just happened.

She awoke just before her alarm as usual, but she felt different this morning. Maybe it was being back home in her childhood room, or that she felt like a total failure at life. Or maybe it was the strange dream she had in the middle of the night.

Linda has never had a sex dream. Many of her friends talked about having them, but she never had, until last night. In her dream a warm, hard body was curved behind hers. She wondered how often people remember smells from dreams, because she remembered a spicy aftershave mixed with a sexy musk.

The man in her dream lay spooned behind her, hand on her abdomen, she felt a thrill at his presence and started to turn to look at him, but his arm tightened around her and his leg went over her thighs, effectively pinning her in place. He nuzzled into her hair, a warm breath on her neck, and she relaxed.

His hand began stroking her abdomen, then crept up her side, drawing her satin nightgown up with it. When he reached the side of her breast, he used two fingers to lightly trace tiny circles, slowly moving down the side of her breast toward the nipple. Still with the satin fabric between his skin and hers, he drew circles around her areola, raising her nipple to a stiff peak, then gently pinched it, rolling it between his thumb and first finger.

She had moaned, pushing her head back toward him. He had lightly licked the outer curve of her ear, causing another moan to slip from her tight throat.

He cupped the breast he had been stroking, gently massaging forward again until he tugged and twisted the nipple with just the right amount of force.

His hand slipped up the breast, pulling the last edge of the nightgown up as he did. His hand came back to rest just below the curve of her breast, and again he traced circles with the tips of his fingers, slowly working back down her abdomen and toward her pubic bone. When he touched the edge of her trimmed pubes, he began moving to the side, going slowly from one femoral crease to the other, just above her mound.

She did something then she would never do while awake: She took his hand in hers and moved it to her warm slit, her middle finger pushing his middle finger down the center, over her engorged clitoris, and back again.

He let his hand be guided back and forth a few times, then he slipped his hand out and pressed her hand into place, continuing to massage her wet cleft in deeper and faster strokes. She didn’t remember waking up, but she found herself awake, hot, wet and throbbing, so she had finished what the dream had started, only mildly disappointed to be alone in her bed when it was over.

That had been a doozy of a dream, but it was morning and the sad reality of her life was back to get her. She graduated from college six weeks ago, and had yet to find a job. She had applied everywhere it seemed, used the university’s employment assistance, worked the internet, networked, and still she hadn’t gotten past a first interview anywhere. Thus, she was back home in her old bed, living with mom, again. What a loser!

The day went by slowly. She did all the things she was supposed to do to find work in her field, marketing, but no one wanted a new grad these days. She went to bed depressed again.

The dream came back, only more so. The warm body was spooned to her, the hand began its slow circles, then caressing her breast, while the tongue lapped at her ear, the lips nibbled her neck and eventually her earlobe. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see who her subconscious cast in the role of her secret lover.

Tonight his hand didn’t hesitate for long at her pubic hair, but followed the crease of her thigh on one side down, the other side up, then down the center with a feather-light pressure that made her buck into his hand for more. She heard a soft, deep chuckle reverberate in the chest pressed against her back.

He rubbed gently in tiny circles directly over her clit, then with more force he would stroke down toward her very wet vagina. The third time he did this, he continued to press until his first two fingers just entered her cunt. Again she bucked for more, and again he chuckled, more a rumbling in his chest she could feel than a sound she could hear.

He rubbed downward again, pushing deep into her. She moaned, pressing into his hand. He pressed forward into her sweet-spot, gently massaging with two fingers inside, his thumb on her clit. It was so delicious she didn’t ever want it to end, but he thrummed her so perfectly, she could feel the excitement building.

Depressed woman finds comfort in a dream guy will continue in the next page.

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