Dream a little dream…

‘In your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss.
I’m longing to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this.’
Ella Fitzgerald, Dream A Little Dream Of Me

I don’t dream. Well, that’s not entirely true, but I dream perhaps once every 6 months. Dreams happen so infrequently that they tend to terrify me! I sleep like I’m dead so anything strong enough to disturb my sleep is frankly horrifying. Most dreams are either nightmares or fevered work-related dreams that should probably be classified as nightmares too.

I do occasionally have dreams about wanting, about desiring, about the build up to touching or kissing, but I always wake up before anything interesting happens. I don’t think I’ve ever dreamt about crushes or anyone I’m fucking. I usually dream about faceless people, strangers, or people that I’ve never thought of sexually before or since. I can’t remember a single sex dream or a time that I’ve woken feeling horny and can remember why.

It’s quite boring. I don’t know why I can’t seem to dream, it’s not like I don’t have an imagination.

But the problem is that I’m beginning to fear that it is like I don’t have an imagination, because it’s not just that I don’t dream. I’m not very good at fantasising either.

‘What are your fantasies?’
‘What one thing do you want to do that you’ve never done?’

These are the sorts of questions that I am still almost incapable of answering without serious thought. It seems strange for someone who claims to write a sex blog to struggle with this, but I do. I don’t have any immediate go-to fantasies, no burning desires that leave me feeling unfulfilled without their completion. When asked, my mind goes completely blank and I can’t think of anything I want, which is ridiculous because I want everything. I tend to mutter something vague and hope I’m not asked for more details.

But I am beginning to understand why I struggle to give these details, why I find bucket lists so difficult to write. It’s because I am turned on by other people’s fantasies much more than I am by my own. I can’t easily describe what I want as it’s usually so tied up in what the questioner wants. There is just nothing hotter than listening to someone talking about what they want, or, even better, helping them achieve these desires. It makes me squirm like nothing else.

It’s why discovering sex blogging and erotic fiction has revolutionised my life – I can now read about anything and everything, from simple vanilla to more hardcore BDSM and kink, and I love it all. I become horny and twitchy reading stories about the most unexpected of subjects, particularly when the author’s need is so obvious in their words.

It’s one of the many, many reasons why I love Girl on the Net‘s blog. Her guest posts and the descriptions of her own fantasies have introduced me to smoking hot scenarios that I had literally never thought possible. She writes about amazing ‘fantasies which would fail in real life,‘ fantasies that ‘aren’t supposed to be real‘ and real examples of people living out their fantasies and fetishes, such as the guest post on latex fetish wear that I discovered recently. This isn’t a kink of mine, even after reading the story, but the author described it so well that the final post was ridiculously hot and made me stop what I was doing to, well, take a break. As GOTN perfectly described it, ‘I might not understand the fetish in itself, but the passion and delight with which someone explains their desire is arousing in and of itself.’

Ungh, that’s what I want. *Their* desire, their need, their satisfaction.

So when I think of what I might want to do sexually in the next year, as fits my love of a new list of challenges each year, I cannot think about it without adding the qualification of ‘with him.’ What I want, what I really crave is his arousal, his pleasure, those deep grunting moans he makes, because that’s what really gets my heart racing, and it changes what I might suggest. I’ve never had a threesome so that should be on the list, but I think of it knowing how fucking hot it will be to watch him with another man because I know how much he wants that. I’ve never thought about being with a woman on my own, but an FFM threesome has a new appeal knowing how much he would enjoy watching. I’ve thought about experimenting with a strap-on and it makes me wet just thinking about the sounds he would make if I were to fuck him with a big silicone cock. And that’s the crux – I want it all because of the effect that it will have on him.

I’ve been trying to remember what I thought about before, what I fantasied about when I was on my own, and I’ve realised that my imagination didn’t extend very far. I would just dream about having sex, with someone who wanted to have sex with me. That was all I needed. More complex dreams of threesomes or domination were limited by my lack of experience to bulk out the fantasy, to make it real enough to work. Whether because I don’t have sex dreams to spark my imagination or because my awareness of possibilities was so small, all I really used to dream about was being bold.

I would dream about confidence, about not holding back, not being apprehensive, not stopping. I would dream about being assertive, not wasting those regretted missed opportunities. I would dream about being the girl who reaches out and literally grabs what she wants. I would dream about the most ordinary things, but initiated by me.

And, in a way, that’s still true now. When I think of bucket lists or sexual goals, my curiosity can take over and create a list that I know will be just so much fun to fulfil, with him. But my own dreams and goals remain much simpler – I dream about not being paralysed by desire, about giving in to the insistent aching in my core as I wait for him and pulling him to me as soon as he walks through the door. I watch him strolling around naked, teasing me with his glorious body, and I want to fall at his feet, taking his cock into my mouth and tasting him again. I quiver inside as I watch him, wanting but not acting. So many times I wish I could take control or surprise him, but I don’t.

Well, not yet anyway…

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