DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #52 - touch tank

⚠️ 🔞 descriptions ⚠️

Fast asleep, or at least so I think I am, I mumble because I can feel an odd, sudden, mysterious, funny feeling between my legs. Too tired to even open my eyes, I just keep whining and mumbling under my breath, not very lucidly wondering what the hell's going on with me. I fell asleep what must've been like... five minutes ago, and I'm having r-rated dreams already? Sex dreams, way before entering REM phase? Fuck, Victoria, you say you ain't, but you're a fucking pervert, girl.

I can feel, I love what I feel, but I'm aware I'm just dreaming. Dreaming my dirtiest dreams, because I can feel something soft, sticky and warm exploring what's between my legs, in a slow, delicate and pleasurable motion. I can feel a pair of hands on my hips, nails almost sinking into the delicate skin of 'em. Every now and then, I can feel a thumb rubbing what I reckon to be the tattoo on my hipbone. And I keep whining and flat out moaning, thinking that if this dream keeps going on for a single more minute... I will have to touch myself. Because my non boyfriend boyfriend is having drinks with Layne at the hotel bar, hence he can't give it to me. Sean is a few floors down, getting drunk or the closest as it gets to that, and as of right now, I'm the only human in this room. Of course, besides Cock Soup, who's oddly tame and sleeping in his cage. Birdie is all tame and stuff, but mama... mama is horny as fuck. Dreaming dirty. Feeling dirty. And acting dirty... cause she's feeling so good, that she keeps grinding herself against the source of her imaginary pleasure, moaning when the feeling down there becomes particularly delightful.

I feel like I'm building the seeds of a climax here. I feel like I'm getting some real damn delightful head, so good that I'm whining and curling my toes in pleasure. But hey, it's just a dream. I'm all alone in this room, Sean is having drinks with Layne eight floors down, and reasonably, even if he was here with me... would he give me head forreal? I don't think he would. He never gave away hints of wanting to do it. And honestly, he doesn't look like someone who's got a weak spot for eating girls out. I wouldn't change this about him, I would never ask him to give me head if he ain't into it... but man, I can't hold myself back from drunkenly moaning his name, when I can feel the soft, sticky and warm mysterious tool toying with my cherry bud. He's the only one that I want... and sadly, it doesn't even change when I'm asleep and dreaming.

You may think that this is weird... but a little sexy dream definitely ain't the weirdest thing that's happened to me, since I've been knowing Sean. If you've read my diary... well, you know I ain't lying. I am the same girl who once dreamt of his peepee swinging between her legs, and it was exactly the day after we met. This is just the sequel to that dream, I suppose. So let it be it.

'Cherry, are you awake?' I hear a male, deep voice speak from not too far away from me, and I instantly recognise it's my handsome, nose pierced knight. I can't hear the slam of the door to signal his entrance into the room, but he must be back from the late night booze fix with Layne. And I love it, I can't wait until he snuggles in bed right next to me and we waste the night away, together. But I'm too dizzy and high and lost in my dream, that I can't open my eyes. I can only squish my legs together, moan and bite my lower lip when I can feel... a whole head between them. A whole head, and a very qualified tongue at work on my folds. Slowly, gently, lovingly trailing up and down my lady bits, showing lotsa love to my cherry bud. Faster and needier licks, whenever I arch my back and try to hold my hand back from slipping between my legs.

I'm dreaming my dirtiest dream. I am aware I'm moaning and moving oddly, but now that Sean is here, do I really want to touch myself and make stuff even cringier on my side ? I don't. Even though I have a feeling that he would appreciate it, if I did. He'd get flashbacks of the one time he got me off through the phone ... and he'd fuck me like he wanted to fuck me, that night of a few days ago, when I was in Seattle and he was in Texas. I've savoured the infamous slow hand he was talking about, during that call... I've savoured it this morning, it was immaculate, and I want more of it. But still, I can't do a thing that ain't moaning or quivering... not even now that I know he's back, and he's probably asking me if I'm awake because I'm moaning and acting weird, and he wants to fuck the quirks out of me.