I don’t know quite what to make of this dream. I’ve never dared to tell anyone about it, and I don’t think I ever will. I don’t dream it every night. I don’t know when it will make its presence known. Sometimes it’s infrequent enough that I’ve almost forgotten about it.
It starts somewhere in the middle of a normal day. I volunteer at a modern art museum four days a week, as a roving guide of sorts – answering questions for people or getting them to spit out their gum into the trash or whatnot. In the dream, I’m often just wandering around bored. I’ll look at my watch and decide it’s time for a break. I’ll head out the back door of the museum to the loading dock and look around.
Across the street from the dock is a park, but it’s almost like a public forest. There are a lot of trees and shrubs. It’s very natural. I’ll start walking towards the park entrance. Something in the back of my mind tries to mention that I don’t have time for a walk, but I don’t care. I walk into the trees. After a few minutes, I turn off the path into a deeply wooded portion of the park. It’s always the same place. It’s a little more difficult picking my way through the thick forest. And somewhere deep in the back of my mind, a small voice asks what I’m doing. But it’s distant and easily dismissed – after all, I’m just taking a walk.
Suddenly, I arrive at a very small clearing in the forest. I turn around, but I’m alone. The path from where I came is there, but it’s hard to pick out through the branches.
I smile and pull my sweater over my head and off. It’s not that I was warm, but I just decided to. And then I start to unbutton my shirt and peel it back from my shoulders. The small voice returns, asking why, and it doesn’t get a good answer. But this all seems so reasonable – why not get undressed? There’s no one around to see.
My hands reach for the button on the front of my jeans and they’re quickly unsnapped, unzipped and pulled down. I bend over to pull off my shoes and socks before pulling my feet through the legs of the jeans before tossing them over on top of the sweater and shirt. I stand back up and reach behind my back to work the catches of my bra. The sun feels warm on my bare body, but the breeze is cool and awakens my nipples. The bra joins the clothing pile quickly followed by my panties. The little voice is louder now, and it’s impossible to ignore its suggestion that this is wrong somehow, but it still feels so freeing to be taking off my clothes alone out in nature.
I stand up and close my eyes. A sudden wave of… something… comes over me. I don’t know what, but I do begin to feel a little tingle in my most private place. I snake my hand down to my crotch and feel myself. My pussy is damp and my fingers feel so good as they explore myself.
My other hand comes up to feel first one and then the other breast, tweaking the nipples that were already erect. I can hear myself moaning, with my eyes closed. The hand working my pussy speeds up and I can feel an orgasm approaching. And then it’s there and I shudder and struggle to keep my balance.
And before it’s over, two more hands join mine on my body. I know somehow that I should be alarmed, but I’m not. I should open my eyes and turn around and see who this is, but I don’t. The hands cup my breasts, and my own hand stays on my pussy, feeling the wet warmth that’s there. And then the hands move to my shoulders and gently, but firmly urge me to bend over. I do their bidding and the hands move back to my hips and I know to move my feet a little bit apart and stick out my ass. I feel a familiar hardness probing at the lips of my pussy and the only thing in my mind is a fervent wish that the cock hurries up and fills my needy pussy.
And then it presses inwards while the hands pull back on my hips. My god, that feels good. And then the fucking starts and I know I’m panting and moaning. My mouth won’t make proper words, but none are necessary. And then the world explodes around me, and I have no doubt that I scream as the orgasm rips through me and my pussy flutters around the cock. And a gruff voice behind me groans loudly and I feel it pulse and fill me, his juices mixing with mine.
We hold that position for just a moment or two and then he withdraws and is gone. I straighten back up and catch my breath. I can feel a drip down my inner thighs and then suddenly I remember where I am and my eyes snap open in horror and I look around. Nobody is there. Nothing is nearby except the woods around me and my pile of clothes. And suddenly I am confused. Everything I did I wanted to do… I think. Didn’t I? But suddenly now the worries flood in and I grab my clothes and dress as quickly as my shaking hands allow. I quickly make my way back to the loading dock of the museum, praying that nobody saw me.
And that’s it – the whole dream. I wake up in my bed, everything just fine, my husband snoring away next to me.
The thing is, though… I’ve had this dream often enough that I know the path through the woods I take. And I’ve gone back there during the day time, and that path is just as I remember it, and at the end, there is a clearing there, just like in the dream.
If it is a dream.
