<<Lick my pussy you beautiful slut make me hot make me come fuck my cunt hot dyke let me taste you let me feel you do me lovergirl let me come in your pretty face now fuck me love me make me wet for you hot lesbo slut...>>
I squealed and woke up from the intensely vivid dream, an overpowering sensation flooding my entire body. I felt like... there were no words, but if I were ever to dive from a thousand-foot waterfall into a crystal clear tropical pond, it would probably feel a lot like that.
Heather had been there, in my dream. Even though I knew it was pointless, I looked around for her; she had to be there in reality too, there was no way a dream alone could have been that intense. But she wasn't there. I did discover, however, that I had my own finger plunged up to the third knuckle inside my pussy, and that it felt very warm and very, very wet. Well of course, I couldn't leave it there, but as I withdrew I had to fight the intense need to plunge it back in and stroke myself back up to climax. As it was, I shuddered involuntarily at the touch of my own hand.
I had always imagined that an orgasm would be a release of tension, that afterward one would want to cool down and just relax, but both my experience in the shower with Heather and now with my own hand just made me want more. Perhaps I hadn't really peaked yet; I had heard once that girls could have several orgasms before being satisfied.
As my mind cleared further, it occurred to me that the subject of my dream had been Heather, not James. I tried to think of him instead, as we were making out on the sofa the previous day, but no matter how I concentrated, my mind kept drifting back to a smooth, soft body in the shower, fucking me with her hand, giving me pleasures that I had never tasted until that moment. It seemed so wrong, so naughty, against everything I'd ever imagined about myself. Until that moment in the shower, I had never even considered doing something like that with another girl!
<<There's nothing wrong with what we've done, Lucy. It doesn't make us lesbians. I like fucking men, and I know you would too. But I liked what we did. I'd like to do more.>>
Was there truly nothing wrong with it? I had never really given much weight to all the moral arguments I'd ever heard, they all sounded like irrational holier-than-thou tripe to me. But there still seemed something wrong with ME feeling like that. Perhaps that was what made it so exciting... oh, I couldn't believe I was thinking like that! The dream must have thrown me off more than I realized. This was so filthy, so dirty, and that just wasn't me... I was a good girl, I didn't mess around like that.
Suddenly I realized I was standing at Heather's door, peeking in at her sleeping form. It had been hot recently, and she lay across the top of her covers, with only a loose T-shirt covering her. She wasn't even wearing any panties. The moonlight shone in through the skylight over her bed, and cast an ethereal glow on her body. I remembered her mild envy of my slim figure and blonde hair, and wondered for the moment why that was so. She wasn't chunky, or chubby, or anything like that - she just wasn't model-thin, and her breasts definitely outsized mine by at least two cup sizes. And her short brunette hair worked well for her, giving her that tomboyish charm.
She moaned in her sleep - she must have been having dreams of her own.
As if still dreaming myself, I crept over to her bed and lay down beside her, daring to touch her bare leg with one gentle hand. Her skin was cool to the touch, soft and smooth, a very different feeling than when I had touched her in the shower. She stirred slightly in response, rolling towards me, and her shirt lifted enough that I could see the underside of her breasts.
Her lips were very close to mine.
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