Summer Discoveries No. 7: Long Enough free porn video

Birds chirped. The sun felt warm on my skin. There was a gentle breeze. My eyes opened, and I saw the lake. The light breeze caused the smallest of crests upon the ripples in the water. My chin was on Jack's chest. We were both naked. On the lounger beside the pool. At the lake house.

My immediate thought was minor panic that we'd be late to pick up the kids. They were at my parents' house, having spent the night there while we went out to the club, Catan's Masquerade, and then spent the night at Phil's lake house. I had dozed off, probably not for long, but I wasn't certain. We'd just had an intense fuck as Jack had told me about the dream he had the night before. Having dozed off, I obviously must have been relaxed afterward. Which was easy to do here. The lake house, in the sunshine and gentle breeze, was so peaceful. And my body was sated.

I looked up to see that Jack's eyes were open, and asked him, "Are we going to be late?" 

"No. We've still got about half an hour before we need to leave," Jack answered. "I was going to let you doze for a few more minutes."

"Well, I suppose you could rub my back for a few minutes, if you want," I told him. "But then we'd better get moving."

"You're so generous," Jack answered, rolling his eyes at me. "I thought I'd done enough for your physical satisfaction for today."

"It was an okay start," I answered.

We lay there a few minutes longer, and, of course, Jack rubbed my back. It wasn't his greatest massage ever, but I cut him some slack. It still felt good. I was eager to see the kids, but was also so relaxed that I was didn't want to move.

When the time came to get moving, I stood up, found my robe, and slipped into it. Jack lazed a moment longer in the lounger, apparently content to soak in the peaceful surroundings. He's always a little slower to get moving, especially when he's relaxed.

As I looked back at the house, I was surprised to see Phil standing on the balcony just outside the sliding doors, leaning on the railing with a cup of coffee. I guess I wasn't too surprised. Jack had told me that Amy was busy this morning and Phil might be doing some work at the house. But I wasn't expecting to see him when I turned around. Modestly, I fastened my robe, covering up.

"Aww," Phil called out. "You've ruined the view!"

I rolled my eyes. Phil, I had found, was a bit of a jokester and liked to tease. But he was a good guy, and it didn't bother me. Jack and I had certainly seen a lot of him and Amy, and they of us, so it was fair for him to tease me for covering up.

"How long have you been here?" I asked as I walked up the stairs from the lower deck to the balcony.

"Long enough," he answered, smiling with both his mouth and his eyes.

My first instinct was a shy embarrassment, which was probably somewhat irrational since we had all seen each other quite close and very personal. Irrational though it may have been, however, it did seem natural to feel some initial embarrassment at realizing he had been watching us fuck. 

Recovering from the embarrassment, and taking a stab at exercising my newfound confidence and growing sense of adventure, I stopped, looked Phil in the eyes, and replied, "What's long enough?" As I said it, my gaze left his eyes, trailed down to his shorts, and moved back up.

"Touché!" Phil answered, laughing, apparently delighted at my retort. 

"I'll leave it up to you," he continued, "to judge what is 'enough' in that regard, but I can assure you it was certainly longer a few minutes ago!"

"Was it?" I asked.  

"Absolutely," Phil replied. "Thicker, too."

Making another effort at boldness, I answered, "I'm sorry I missed it." And, to be honest, I was. Sorry I missed it, that is. Although given the dream Jack had been telling me about shortly before, I very well may have been picturing Phil's cock in my head at the time, anyway.

Come to think of it, it was coincidental that Phil's cock was hard watching me at the same time I was listening to Jack's dream about me and that extraordinary cock.

And, considering that I later learned that Phil and Amy had circled back and watched us after we had seen them outside the pub the night we met him, this was the second time Phil had watched us fuck while he was on my mind. After we had watched them that night, 

"Me, too," Phil answered. "I'm sorry you missed it."

"Maybe another time," he added, as I walked past him into the house.

"I hope so," I thought, but didn't say aloud. Instead, I said, teasing him back, "The way you and Amy behave, I'm sure I will!"  Since I had seen him in action at least three times already - the first, when we saw him and Amy outside the pub; the second, at the barbecue at our house; and the third, here at the lake house - it seemed likely that another time would, indeed, arise.

And now, after this conversation, and even after the intense and pleasurable sex Jack and I had just had, I was turned on again. "What's going on with me?" I thought. I didn't know the answer, but it nevertheless felt good.

I headed into the bedroom to gather my clothes and to take a quick shower before we left. As I showered, I was aware of my arousal. My nipples tingled, craving further attention. After Phil had revealed that he had watched us and become aroused, I couldn't help but wonder whether he had done anything about it - or was perhaps doing so now? If he had stepped into the shower to join me, I think I'd have been powerless to resist!

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the bathroom door open.

My first thought was that I was terrified that Phil was doing exactly what I had just been thinking.  Coming to join me. And take me. Although, if I am one hundred percent honest with myself, a tiny part of me was exhilarated hoping he was on the other side of the curtain.

But, of course, it was Jack, gathering his toothbrush and deodorant and medicine bag to finish his packing. 

"Did you see that Phil is here?" he asked through the closed curtain.

"Yes, I talked to him on my way in."

"Did he say how long he'd been here?" 

"He said he'd been here 'long enough.'" I replied.

Jack chuckled. "Interesting choice of words," adding, "I hope he enjoyed it."

"Me too," I answered honestly, although Phil himself had made it explicitly clear that he had. Enjoyed it. Enjoyed me. And I enjoyed that.

*

After a thrilling Saturday night and wonderful Sunday morning, I was happy to get to my mom's house and pick up the kids. They, of course, had been a little bit spoiled, and it took the rest of the day to wrap up our weekend and readjust to our routine. 

I found that, like the week after we had first seen Amy and Phil outside the bar - and, frankly, as had more often been the case since that time - I was having more (and more vivid) dreams. You may recall the dream I had about the barbecue a couple days before the actual Fourth of July party we had after we'd met Phil with Amy at the Creekside Inn.

In that dream, when Amy and Phil had arrived at the party, we’d talked about seeing them for the first time since Creekside.

““Did you feel awkward seeing them?” Jack asked.

“Only a little,” I answered. “Not as much as I thought I might.”

“Were you excited to see him?” Jack asked, moving behind me and putting his arms around my waist as we talked and watched our guests.

“A little,” I answered. “I don't see how he keeps that thing discreet in his shorts.”

We’d gone out to mingle and, minutes later, returned to the kitchen. Jack said, “I saw you talking to him.”

“Well, of course I was. He’s a guest.”

“A special one?” Jack asked.

"All of our guests are special,” I retorted. 

From behind me, Jack whispered, “But they don’t all have cocks like that. Or fuck like he does.”

“Or,” he added, reaching around to my inner thigh and caressing upward all the way to my panties,” make your pussy wet like he does.”

I couldn’t deny it. He did. I was. Wet, that is.

I closed my eyes as Jack’s fingers brushed my panties aside and caressed my pussy.

A little over a week ago I would have told him to stop. But the new me allowed myself to enjoy it. 

I looked out the kitchen window at the guests — at Phil — as Jack's fingertip grazed my pussy. 

“Are you looking at him?” he asked in my ear. 

As I answered, "Yes," Jack's finger slipped inside me and I exhaled in a gasp. 

"Do you wish this was him," he asked as his finger curled into me. 

I just rotated my hips against his finger and gasped again. 

"Tell me," he said.

In the dream, we had been interrupted before I'd answered that question. Later in the dream, as we sat outside at the picnic table in our backyard, it reminded me of the picnic table Phil had bent Amy over the week before. While Amy and Phil had cleaned up in the kitchen, I had stroked Jack's cock at the table before, emboldened, removing my top and his shorts and sucking his cock at the table. Jack had spun me around and undressed me fully, facing the kitchen window where Phil stood.

My eyes went instinctively to Phil. I was terrified of his reaction. My body no longer perfect. My breasts not as firm as they were before children. My legs not as firm as Amy's.

But what I saw did not register what I expected. How do I know he liked what he saw? I don't know. But I knew. And it pierced me.

I closed my eyes. I felt very sexy, exposed outside, aroused, desirous, and desired. 

After I had pushed Jack down on his back and slid myself over his cock, Phil and Amy had come outside and were beside us. In my dream, the man that I had seen across the way a week before was naked beside me.

Unlike last week, when Phil's beautiful cock was across the shrubs and grass at the picnic table, it was now only feet from my eyes.

From my fingers.

After Jack had erupted within me, and I collapsed upon him, I had dreamt of more.

And then.

I felt something.

Phil.

Behind me.

His hands on my hips. 

Lifting me.

And I felt blinding heat overwhelming my body as his perfect cock penetrated my core.

And then ...

... I woke up.

You may recall that this is how that dream had ended. Some readers may have been disappointed. I know I was. Some dreams you don't want to end, and, try as you might, you can't get back to them. Maybe a part of me was relieved, too, though. Because I know what I wanted to happen if I could get back to that dream!

*

Anyway, since the night I had that dream, we had experienced the actual barbecue and had spent a wonderful evening with Phil and Amy at the lake house. We'd had the adventurous and eye-opening experience at Catan, and had met Mark and Anne. And, of course, now I'd had what I call the "long enough" conversation with Phil after he'd stumbled upon our tryst when Jack told me about his dream. 

I found myself thinking about that conversation - the "long enough" conversation - from time to time the following week. What had Phil seen? What had he heard? What had he done while he was "long enough" during the "long enough" time he had watched us? Or, really, watched me. He had made clear several times that he was turned on by me. And whether I found that easy to believe in the abstract, when I saw the way he looked at me, I knew it was true. And that felt ... well ... it felt a lot of ways. Had he stroked his cock while he watched us? Afterward? During the week? I hoped so.

As most parents of young, active children know, the daily grind can get exhausting. It's difficult to find time for yourself, which you need for sanity, and even more difficult at times to find alone time with your spouse. Not that it's not rewarding - it is, and it's the most rewarding thing in the world. But it's a challenge to be sexual and feel sexy, much less to explore and grow in that realm. Somehow, however, that's what appeared to be happening to me.

So one night that week, after a long day that included violin lessons and a baseball game, I fell asleep hard as soon as my head hit the pillow. Perhaps I'd once again been thinking about the "long enough" conversation because as I slept, I found myself returning to the conversation.

When the time came to get moving after our tryst on the deck, I stood up, found my robe, and slipped into it. Jack lazed a moment longer in the lounger, apparently content to relax. He's always a little slower to get moving, especially when he's relaxed.

As I looked back at the house, I was surprised to see Phil standing on the balcony just outside the sliding doors, leaning on the railing with a cup of coffee. I guess I wasn't too surprised. Jack had told me that Amy was busy this morning and Phil might be doing some work at the house. But I wasn't expecting to see him when I turned around. Modestly, I fastened my robe around me, covering up.

"Aww," Phil called out. "You've ruined the view!"

Phil, I had found, was a bit of a jokester and liked to tease. But he was a good guy, and it didn't bother me. Jack and I had certainly seen a lot of him and Amy, and they of us, so it was fair for him to tease me for covering up.

Another thing I had been thinking about recently was something Jack had told me about. Jack listens to podcasts while he runs, and invariably learns something that he feels the need to share. Sometimes they're actually interesting! Anyway, he'd been listening to a podcast about changing your mind by changing your habits. That is, some people feel like they need to have a mind change before they can change what they do. But developing research has found that you can get to the mind change you are seeking by changing your behavior. The simple way of describing it is "fake it 'til you make it." If you do it, you'll become it. Like, for Jack, choosing to adopt the habit of running, he believes, has changed who he is. What I've been thinking about in this context is that I've never really felt like a sexy, seductive woman. Like Amy sometimes seems to be. But maybe if I just start acting like one, I'll start to feel like one. Changing my actions, and experiencing how that feels, may change how I feel about myself. Anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is that I think the combination of these thoughts and the thoughts I'd been having about the "long enough" conversation led to how the dream played out. So, without further ado, the dream continued.

I paused, and thought about what Amy - or someone like how I perceived Amy to be - would do after Phil told me I had "ruined the view." So I looked back up at Phil, unfastened the belt on the robe so that it fell open, although not all the way. 

"How's the view now?"  I asked. 

My breasts were mostly visible, and he may have been able to catch a glimpse of my pubic hair.

"Better," he grinned, looking back at me steadily. He said nothing more and seemed happy to enjoy the moment, looking at me, and me back at him.

"How long have you been here?" I asked as I walked up the stairs from the lower deck to the balcony.

"Long enough," he answered, smiling with both his mouth and his eyes.

I pushed my instinctive embarrassment out of my mind and asked, as I had done in reality, "What's long enough?" Again, my gaze left his eyes and trailed down to his shorts before moving back up.

"Touché!" Phil answered, laughing, apparently delighted at my retort. 

"I'll leave it up to you," he continued, "to judge what is 'enough' in that regard, but I can assure you it was certainly longer a few minutes ago!"

"Was it?" I asked.  

"Absolutely," Phil replied. "Thicker, too."

I leaned sideways against the railing Phil was leaning against. I realized my robe had opened further when Phil's eyes moved down my body and back up. My breasts were exposed. Rather than embarrassment, I mostly felt confident and sexy.

Continuing my efforts at confidence and boldness, I answered, "I'm sorry I missed it."

"Me, too," Phil answered, and added,  "Maybe another time."

Even in the dream, it almost felt like I was having an out-of-body experience as I heard my lips not only form but also utter the words I had thought inwardly in reality when he said that:

"What time better than the present?" I asked, and watched my hand - questioning whether it was really my hand - slide over the front of his shorts and feel his dick.

Phil said nothing. He just watched me as I looked back at him.

I was pleased to find that he was apparently reacting as I was. His big dick was already swollen inside his shorts. I closed my eyes for a moment as my hands lingered and moved against him, rubbing his cock through the fabric. What a rush. I did feel sexy.

While my eyes closed and my hand explored, sending a rush of sensations through my body and mind, a breath rushed through my lips and the sensations spiked when I felt Phil's strong hand brush my robe aside and cover my breast.

The touch of his thumb against my nipple made my legs feel rubbery and my fingers instinctively tried to wrap around his cock through his shorts. When the fabric interfered, I had no patience even to fumble with his belt, button and zipper, and I instinctively thrust my hand up the leg of his shorts, inside his boxers and around his incredible cock.

The weak-knees sensation intensified. I had been craving this for longer than I probably dared to admit. Who am I kidding? I'd wanted to touch it since I first saw it. Who wouldn't? No woman with a pulse.

Phil's thumb and forefinger encircled my burning nipple and tugged.

I moaned aloud, "Phil..."

I don't know what it feels like to be on drugs or uppers, or maybe it's just an incredible jolt of adrenaline, but my entire body and mind felt ... intensely ... deeply ... sensitively ... alive.

Having touched him, I had to see him.

"Where was Jack?" you ask. I'm not sure. It was a dream, and that detail is hazy. He was still down there on the lounger. Probably stroking his cock as he watched this all unfold. He'd had a similar dream. I'm comfortable that he wouldn't have a problem with my dream. To be honest, my focus was elsewhere. So back to it ...

My hand withdrew from the leg of Phil's shorts, and he turned toward me, still holding my breast as my hands fumbled at his belt and button and zipper, and I desperately yanked his shorts and boxers down.

I'd been almost this close to his cock before on this deck when Amy had guided me to hold her wrist as she stroked him. But this was closer.

I looked down and that fantastic cock - and I do mean a cock that is an object of fantasy - was rock hard. Like steel. Upright. Rigid. Hot. And glistening.

Phil's whole hand seemed to cover my breast, and the repeated sensation of his palm scraping against my nipple sent spikes of sensation through my body.

I closed my eyes again and soaked up the sensations as my fingers wrapped around his bared cock and stroked the long journey from his head down to his balls. Jack has a nice-sized cock, but this thing was just incredible. 

I became aware that Phil had pushed my robe off my body, and I was naked. And it felt amazing.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked, further exercising my boldness, as my fingers stroked and explored and pumped and groped.

Phil's hand found my hip and, in a strong but not forceful move, yanked my naked body up against him, my fingers between us still holding his cock. His lips touched my ear and he gruffly whispered, "Yes. Tell me."

I looked into his eyes. "I was thinking about this," I said, looking down at his glorious cock in my fingers, "while you were watching, for 'long enough.'"

Phil leaned me back against the railing, and I realized he had moved his hand between my legs when his fingertip parted my pussy lips as he replied, "Were you?"

"Yes," I barely managed in response, as I could only hold his cock in my fingers when his fingertip grazed my tingling clit. I felt like my whole body would melt against the railing.

"Thinking about what?" he asked as his fingertip wriggled and moved between my warm, swollen lips.

I couldn't form words for a moment, just absorbing all of the sensations roaming my body.

Remembering my boldness, I recovered a moment and answered, "Your cock. I was thinking about your big, beautiful cock."

Phil's finger curled into me, and I think I lifted onto my toes a bit, although I didn't want to fight it. Just overwhelmed by sensation. "When you were sucking his cock?" Phil asked. "You were thinking about me?"

"Oh god," I answered. "You were here long enough! I didn't realize you'd seen that much."

"You didn't answer," Phil responded, his finger moving side to side and then gloriously finding and brushing my clit again.

"Yes," I answered. "I was thinking about your big cock."

"You want to suck it?" he asked.

Do I? Did I? Of course, I did. Before I knew it, I was kneeling down on top of my crumpled robe and my lips were kissing and then sliding down over the head of his cock. I felt so fucking sexy. He was so hot and hard for me. Because of me. Wanting me. And I had him in my hands. In my mouth. Looking up at the pleasure on his face, I felt the intensity of his heat as I slipped my lips over the head of his cock and held the base of his shaft in my hand. I did this. I caused this. A man's cock isn't just hard for no reason. It's hard with desire. With hunger. And Phil's cock was raging hard for me.

These thoughts consumed me as I found myself touching his balls and holding the base of his cock and licking and beginning to suck on him. I didn't even need him to touch me to feel all of the sensations coursing through my body, from head to toe and back and everywhere in between at once.

"Steph ..." he moaned. "So fucking good."

"Mmm ...." I found myself responding.

I closed my eyes and stroked with my fingers and sucked him into and out of my mouth and focused on how incredible it felt to be causing him to feel this way.

"Oh! Steph! That's so. Fucking. Good!"

I was so aroused, I think I might have been able to have an orgasm just from sucking his cock and experiencing his reactions.

"Ihavemyownsecret," rushed out of his mouth.

"Huh?" I managed, holding his cock as I looked up at him.

"I ... have ... my own ... secret," he said.

"What?" I asked, smiling and looking up at him, as I slowly stroked his perfect cock in my fingers.

"Remember when we met at the Creekside Inn?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered, pausing, still for a moment. "Of course. Why?"

"I've wanted to fuck you ever since that night."

"You have?" I asked, surprised, even though that very night, I'd obviously wanted him. Jack had pretended to be Phil that night, fucking me after we'd watched Amy and Phil.

"How about now?" I asked.

"Now what?"

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"Of course!" he answered.

I stood up and leaned over the railing, my ass back against him. "Then do it."

His cock felt so hot when it brushed against my buttock, and even hotter as I felt it slide up against my lips.

We were finally back to the point of my earlier dream. Luckily, this time I didn't wake up.

Phil's strong hands held onto my hips, and he pressed forward.  He's so big that he was a sensitive enough lover to slide slowly into me that first stroke.

I'm not sure how I didn't collapse. My knees did go entirely weak at that moment. He must have held me up.

I think maybe I didn't breathe. My skin felt alive. Every fiber of my being was tingling and alive.

And I felt so immensely full as his enormous cock pressed all the way into me.

He leaned down and kissed the back of my neck as his hips slowly withdrew and he pulled back. I gasped when, for a moment, I thought he was going to pull all the way out.

I felt tremendous relief as his hips sank back forward and he filled me again.

He kept kissing my neck, and his hands slid around to cup my breasts as his hips slowly moved back and forth, melting my insides as my pussy merged around and his cock, mounding our bodies together. 

I don't think I could move - I could only absorb - and I didn't want to do anything else. It felt perfect. I never wanted it to end.

In that vein, I gasped, "Don't ... stop ... don't ... ever ... stop ..." and then lost the capacity for words, overwhelmed by aroused sensation to the core of my being.

"I don't ever ..." Phil gasped, "want ... to stop."

"Your pussy," he added," your whole body feels so ... fucking ... good."

I couldn't respond. I found only the strength to press back against him, telling him in that motion that I wanted more. I needed more. I craved more. More of his big cock. More of these sensations. More of the way he made me feel like a raw, wanton, sexual being.

His hips found a rhythm, and his long, thick cock was gliding in and out of me. Each stroke caused friction inside me, and each motion further intensified the warm, tingling sensations, flowing with ever-increasing intensity along my skin.

"Your cock ..." I sputtered.

"Yes?" he answered as he moved in and out of me.

"So good ..." I continued.

"Mmm ... Steph," he moaned, as he held my hips a bit tighter and thrust, surprising and jarring me this time.

It felt good. I think a firecracker went off in my extremities.

"Your cock feels so fucking good," I finally managed to gasp in one quick breath.

"Yeah?" he asked. "You like my big cock?"

"I love your big cock," I answered. "It's amazing."

In rhythm with his thrusts, I managed, "I love ... the way ... you fuck me .... with ...your big ... cock."

His fingers tugged my nipples downward, and I had a mini-orgasm. Or maybe a full orgasm. I don't know. I just know that it kept going without pause.

"As good as you imagined?" he asked.

"No," I panted, as I pressed back against him, realizing that if I rotated my hips I felt different sensations with his cock touching me in slightly different places.

"No?"

"No. I couldn't imagine this. It's so much better. Your cock is touching me in places I've never been touched. Causing sensations I've never felt."

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Sexy," I answered, honestly.

"Hot?"

"Yes. I do feel hot."

"Wanted?"

"Yes."

"Good. You are. Hot. And sexy. And wanted."

"And how about you, Phil?" I asked, my boldness again at the surface. "Do you like my pussy?"

"I love the way your pussy feels pulsing around my cock."

"As good as you imagined?"

"Better," he answered.

"Do you feel wanted?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You are," I answered, surprised at my bluntness, and then Phil knocked me off balance again.

Amidst the steady strokes of his cock inside me, and the touch of his fingertips on my nipples, Phil brushed his fingertip over my ass, caressing me there. 

"Phil," I said, as his fingertip caressed my ass and started to press. My knees went weak again.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

My hips moved, and velvety sensations slowly flowed through me as he touched my ass. I didn't answer. I couldn't find words. I wanted him to stop, but I didn't. Everything he was doing was making me feel so good he could have put his dick there and I might not have stopped him.

"Tell me you want me to stop and I will," he said, and his finger pressed slightly more firmly against me, and then stroked that tender skin between my pussy and ass. Somehow, this caused me to rock my hips back against him, asking for more. My body was ahead of my mind, asking for more before my mind realized that, yes, I did want more.

Once again, I didn't understand how I was upright. I was entirely melted. He must have been totally supporting me.

As I relaxed in total pleasure, Phil's finger took the opportunity and just the tip slid into my ass.

I'd never felt anything like it.

I imploded.

And then reinflated.

I could feel his knuckle - just one knuckle - move back and forth oh-so-subtly.

Rumbling sensations quaked throughout my body.

I panted. I moaned. I lost my breath. And my hips moved. Betraying me. Pressing back against both his dick and his finger.

"Don't stop," I managed to admit.

Phil's finger slowly moved to the second knuckle and back out, and I imploded and re-inflated again.

Pulsing warps of sensation shuddered and rippled through me. Although I never wanted him to stop, I knew I couldn't last much longer. The sensations were too intense and overwhelming.

Phil's cock and finger moved in rhythm. He was touching me in so many places I'd never been touched before, at once. And all of them felt equally amazing.

The world was melting around me. I couldn't breathe. And then I could.

He thrust. I pressed back.

His finger penetrated. I was aware of it.

"Oh!" I panted.

"Fuck!" I added.

"Don't! You! Dare! Stop!"

I was on a trajectory. My hips pressed back against Phil. Again. And again.

He responded, thrusting forward. 

His cock felt incredible.

A fuse was lit on the dynamite between us. And it was burning quickly.

Our bodies began to move in a blur.

"Phil" I shouted.

"Steph!" he answered.

HIs knuckles slipped out of my ass and the fuse raced to its end. Waves crashed over me. His fingers grabbed my shoulders, and he thundered into me in a blur. That big, enormous cock touched every part inside of me.

I shuddered and gasped and moaned and panted as waves of orgasm overwhelmed my body. 

I felt Phil tense and knew what was to follow. His cock erupted, ropes of thick sperm erupting from his raging dick.

This unleashed yet another, even more intense wave of orgasm, as I exploded and wondered for a moment if I was having an out-of--body experience. The entirety of my awareness was just rippling sensations. They grew and erupted, and erupted again, and again. 

Every part of my being was totally alive. And it felt oh. So. Fucking. Good. 

I reached a peak.  And lost my breath for a moment. As that moment stood still. Time stopped. I was poised to erupt. 

And I did.

The next several moments were a blur as my knees buckled, and Phil supported me, and I throbbed and pulsed and rippled and swooned. And moaned and gasped and panted and gulped.

And finally. It slowly. Began. To subside. Coming down. Slowly. Floating.

Joyfully rippling my way downward. 

Relaxing. Warm. Content. Sated.

I leaned back against Phil.

One of his hands held my hip, his other my breast, as his big dick slipped out of me and rested against me, his warm cum on my back.

I think I collapsed on my knees to gather my breath.

"That was a dream come true," I told him, looking over my shoulder and smiling. 

He caressed my hip and smiled back.

And then I woke up. Apparently, it wasn't. A dream come true. Thankfully. But it was one hell of a dream!