Erotic Story: A naughty dream
Erotic story

Erotic Story: A naughty dream

By Sabine, 01.06.2023

As usual, I have WhatsApp open on my laptop in the office. Of course I use WhatsApp regularly for work-related things, but I must admit that it’s also convenient to quickly answer personal messages in between. Usually, those messages aren’t all that exciting, but you are definitely on a roll today.

I already noticed it this morning when, subtle as you are, you texted that you’d had a hot dream. “Probably because there was a full moon out,” I replied. “Was your dream about me?,” I typed curiously. “Yes…,” you replied mysteriously, after which I left my phone unattended to quickly get ready for work.

I thought of you in the shower, and I cycled through sunny Amsterdam on my way to the office along the canal with images of you flashing through my mind. I remained curious about your naughty dream, and I still am now. “What was that dream about?,” I type, and then quickly switch tabs again to give the impression that I’m busy working. 

“I dreamed I was going to a strip club,” you mention finally. “I was watching the stage and suddenly you came on.”

I try to imagine what it would be like to be on a stage, dressed in lingerie. On stage, being watched by him. By him and a bunch of strangers I don’t know and probably never will. 

“You wore sexy lingerie; a red push-up bra with a thong and garter belts. It was pretty dark in the room, but there was just enough light on stage for us to admire your body,” you continue. 

I notice that the idea turns me on. The idea of the strip club, but also the idea that you dreamed about me in this way and that you are thinking about me now. I feel a little flutter between my legs and try to keep a straight face for the colleagues around me. I subconsciously wiggle back and forth in my chair, causing the seam of my pants to move right past my clit. The sensation is minimal, but it still turns me on. 

“And then?,” I type eagerly. “What happened next in your dream?”

“You danced sensually, visibly enjoying the attention,” you write. “The room almost turned quiet, because everyone was watching you. You seemed to mesmerize the audience with your movements and that divine body of yours.” 

I notice I’m holding my breath while reading his messages. ‘Would I dare to do such a thing in real life?,’ I wonder. ‘Maybe,’ I think. ‘But then again, maybe not.’ It’s definitely a thrilling idea though, and fantasizing about it won’t hurt anyone. It’s starting to get a bit damp between my legs and I feel my cheeks glowing. For a second, I look up from my computer screen to check what my colleagues are doing. Everyone is just busy, pounding away on their keyboards, seemingly locked in their own world.

Without me having to ask, you continue: “Towards the end of your act, you smoothly took off your bra and conjured up a small bottle of oil. You looked at your audience provocatively.” 

I feel that my nipples are hard now, poking against my bra. Luckily, my sweater hides them so my colleagues can’t see anything, but this feeling I building up inside me can no longer be ignored. My body is about to combust.

“You looked into the room and pointed out the man sitting next to me. As he stood up, you looked at me and gave me a wink. As if you were trying to say I didn’t have to worry.” 

My eyes quickly scan the sentences you type and again I feel a tingling between my legs that’s impossible to ignore. I take a deep breath, but that no longer helps. There is only one way to calm down my body now.

“You pulled the man on stage, sprayed some oil into his hands and let him rub your breasts. While he touched you, you kept your eyes on me. Your eyes sparkled and my longing for you grew bigger by the second.”

‘Fuck…,’ I think. I have to force myself not to rub my breasts. All I want now is to touch myself. I squeeze my thighs together and slowly wiggle back and forth in my chair. My clit is so sensitive by now that even the slightest movement feels heavenly. I can’t keep sitting here like this. I have to go.

“After a minute you sent the man back into the audience and finished your show with a deep bow. There was applause, but there was only one thing on my mind. I wanted to fuck you so bad. I didn’t want to watch some guy touching your gorgeous body. “I wanted you all to myself.”

I stand up from my desk and run to the bathroom. I duck into a cubicle and lock the door. Impatiently, I unzip my pants and let my fingers find their way to my now oversensitive clit. I lean against the cold wall as my hand moves quickly back and forth. With my eyes closed, I think about your dream. You’ve made me so horny. 

To delay my climax for a bit, I run my fingers through my labia. I haven’t been this wet in ages. As my fingers move up and back from my opening, I massage a breast with my other hand. My whole body is so sensitive that I’m getting impatient. It’s just too good. I want more! 

With my eyes still closed, I return my focus to my clit. I pinch my nipple as I rub my clit faster and faster. At first, I feel the muscles in my abdomen tighten, a sign for me to take things a little slower. So, I slow down and gently run my fingers over my clit, until I can’t hold it anymore. An intense orgasm courses through my body and I struggle not to scream.

When I return to my desk, nobody seems to notice. I check to see if you’ve sent another message.

“And then I woke up,” is your last message.

“Well,” I reply. “I’m wide awake now too. Holy shit!”

You may also like