Sisterhood of Sin -- 21 -- Betrayed, But By Whom? - Sex Stories

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Sisterhood of Sin -- 21 -- Betrayed, But By Whom?

Date: 7/31/2016, Categories: Lesbian, Author: LastWife, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

Chelsea." "Ah, you think I have a type." "Bold, guileless, beautiful, lost." "You bastard." He laughs. "Have fun." As I crawl into bed behind her, she asks, "Who were you talking to?" "My husband. He guessed who I'm with. He told me to have fun, but I'm too sleepy." I snuggle against her, one hand on her ass and the other thrown over her so I can gently smoosh my breasts into her back. I sense nervousness. "You know I... touched his..." "You made him come. A ruined orgasm." "That doesn't bother you." "No. He was like an animal when he got home. Thank you." "He said that would happen. I'm glad you're not hurt." She relaxes. "G'night." In minutes she is asleep. As I become aware that I've been dreaming, I'm feeling tongue and lips right where I want them to be. My nipples are hard and feel cool from the drying wetness of a recent suckle. I move my hands to them and turn up the heat in my furnace. I spread my legs further and the tongue dives deeper. It was such a pleasant dream, a visit from Dream Girl. My first visit from her occurred during college when I started having guilty fantasies about Kyra. I guess my dreams were reflecting my inner turmoil. I would waken from these homoerotic dreams right at the moment when I kissed Dream Girl, or touched her nipple, or felt her touch on mine. I would be aroused and frustrated because I didn't dare masturbate until I was in the shower or until Kyra was gone to class. In all the years since, Dream Girl never gave me a name. She almost ... never said a word. Her eyes and her smiles did most of the talking. Her face and body only changed a little bit, often to adopt some feature of whomever I was currently fantasizing about. Sometimes she was a stranger that I had just met and couldn't resist, but other times it was clear that we had been friends and lovers forever. My shrink had offered the guess that Dream Girl was based on my perception of the girl that my mother was before I was born. It seemed like cliché pop psychology, but Dream Girl almost always had my mother's red hair, freckles, slender build, and green eyes. Her chin, lips, and nose usually resembled my father's boy face, which I had seen only in photographs. Perhaps Dream Girl was the combined beauty of both parents, but carnal desire awoke every time she visited me. As I became comfortable with my bisexuality, my visits with Dream Girl would last longer, and the intimacy would go much further. This time, I had my hand between the legs of a strange woman that I had met at a business presentation, and she had her hand between mine. In the strange way of dreams, the men in the room had become irrelevant. I knew they were watching, which made it more exciting, but the other woman had all of my attention. Also in the strange way of dreams, I was back to my dream age, in my early twenties, about the age when I married Dan. Dream Girl is always a little older, but just enough to seem more worldly. We had gone from making eye contact to kissing to petting ...