Dreamed 1998/1/6 by Chris Wayan
My husband's a professor at a prestigious university. Me? What can I say about myself? Not much. I'm just a faculty wife. My friends? I don't have any, not really. Our marriage? Loveless... and sexless. I'm bored out of my mind. Does that answer your question?
One day, out the window, I hear rustles and gasps. Go out and find a couple of students fucking under the hydrangea bushes. Caught, they separate, waiting for me to tear into them... they know, don't they. They all know how frustrated I am, how it hurts to see them. Fire on my cheeks. Blushing or anger? I don't know any more.
And then I grab the girl's thighs and shove my face into her pussy and lick like crazy. My heart nearly stops, with the shock of what I'm doing, and I get all wet with excitement.
And then... I notice I don't really LIKE this! She tastes rank and sweaty, with a semen smell. He must have come in her once or twice already. I go on, to please her, but I wonder if the fantasy excited me more than the reality, or it it's just this particular time (and smell, and girl).
Or that I'm licking her when I want to BE licked!
Still, it's better than nothing. I can learn from it. Learn I like women, not men--I hardly noticed him.
And I like clean femme cunt, not used, man-handled, butch-smelling cunt. You may disagree, find me inhibited--but tastes differ, dear reader.
And now I know mine.
And boredom, and academia, and my husband, and men... ain't it.
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