Sandman

Vic’s husband is gone, and the sheets feel too empty. She tells him about the dream on the phone, but the words bring the scene back hotter than sleep ever allowed. She was naked on the bed when Troy stepped close, thick and heavy, and she leaned in without thinking. Her tongue dragged over the weight of him first, slow licks that made his balls tighten under her mouth. She sucked each one, gentle pulls that drew a low sound from his chest, then opened wide for the rest. Her full tits swayed as she worked, nipples hard, breath loud. He tasted thick on her tongue, and she chased every inch until spit shone on her chin. When he finally pushed inside, the stretch knocked the air from her lungs. She took him deep, riding the rhythm until his cock pulsed hard and he emptied everything, hot and thick, leaving her slick and full. Even miles away, her husband can hear how wet the memory still makes her.