His leaden-blue orbs fixate on my parted lips and I can't help but let out a soft shaky sigh. The male's hand suddenly reaches out and grabs the back of my head, his fingers curling around my locks and yanking me closer. I more than willingly surrender to his sudden attack, wrapping my own arms around his neck as he smashes his lips ferociously against mine.
Logan devours my mouth with an almost ravenous intensity, and I wouldn't want it any other way. With me straddling the male, he practically forces soft groans out of my throat while I press myself against his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His free hand roams down my stomach, landing on my bulge, and my eyes suddenly snap open.
My bedroom's ceiling is the first thing that comes into my view. Remaining still where I'm lying in my bed, I try my best to focus on the lingering sensation of Logan's tongue in my mouth and his hand fondling my arousal from my dream. As it slowly fades away, I groan and rub my face.
How sexually frustrated am I to have such dreams of him?
But then again...such dreams are what makes going to sleep exciting. They are practically the highlights of my days.
I loiter in my fantasies a little while longer before being forced to acknowledge the alarm's persistent calls. A frown adorns my face, but, it slowly shifts into a small blush as I recall that my partner will be here soon to train me. And by 'train me', I mean 'touch me more than he usually does'. Just the thought of it causes a groan to reverberate in my chest and an involuntary adjustment to my arched back. The uneasiness in my pants is dealt with by my right hand, which slips inside the fabric to cup and free my arousal.
I can swear Logan has been the cause of 98% of my morning woods in the last couple of years...
In the past, it was Rachel, the human girl in my neighborhood, who used to be my partner in my wet dreams. It wasn't until I met Logan, however, that I realized I was open to both sexes. Or, maybe it's just that he gets me all hot and bothered, being the only male that brings out that bisexual side of mine.
As I gently fondle my erection in a manner reminiscent of my dream, my other hand reaches over my head and to the side desk. Opening the top drawer, I pull out a bottle of lube and squirt some on the very-needy head of my dick. My entire length twitches as the cold fluid comes in contact and I bite my bottom lip. As I watch my right hand rapidly apply the lube to my arousal, my left hand blindly reaches out to return the bottle to its place in the drawer. However, my fingers make contact with an object on their way back, something I recognize.
My head instantly snaps to the side and I look at the side desk, knowing fully well what my fingers grazed against. The lubrication makes it easier for me to stimulate my girth, and, with my attention on the article, my left hand wraps around it, pulling it out and revealing its soft pink exterior.
As I observe the seven-inch-long dildo in my grasp, a surge of heat flashes on my face. My guilt-ridden conscience prompts a reminder of the circumstances whereby I came into ownership of the object. During shopping for pillows and curtains online, George, while conversing with me, inadvertently added it to his shopping cart from the recommended products section. With it being a non-returnable purchase, he was distraught and asked me to retain it. At the moment, with uncertain thoughts, I consented to keep it.
Right...
But I could have also thrown it away. Yet I chose to use the dildo occasionally to mimic Logan's presence as I indulge in my private 'play sessions'.
A small part of me is ashamed of this secret, yet the euphoria I feel when I indulge in it far outweighs the guilt. To prevent my excessive thinking from impeding my mood, I allow my body to guide me. Bringing the dildo close to my lips, I extend my tongue out to meet it halfway. My tongue licks its bright pink head sensually while its smooth rubbery surface skims across my taste buds in a pleasant sensation.
