Archive for the Dreaming of sex Category

No sleep for the wicked

Posted in Dreaming of sex, Fixing a broken marriage with tags , on November 22, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

I didn’t sleep.
I’m sure my Wife didn’t either.
Come morning, when my alarm sounded, I turned it off. Not Snooze.
I hid under the duvet, behind a closed bedroom door, with the curtains drawn.
Footsteps on the stairs. A quiet knock on the door.
Her: Do you need me to do the school run?
Me: No.
Her: I can stay of you want?
Me: No. I’ll do it.
Her: Is there anything I can do?
Me: I have no idea.
Her: Probably lots I should have done years ago.
Me: Does that mean Continue reading

More evidence

Posted in Dreaming of sex, Fetishwear with tags , , , on August 20, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

My Wife kept resting a hand provocatively on my thigh or arm, or trying to massage my shoulders. I kept pushing Her advances away. I didn’t care how many sweet nothings, or indeed sweet somethings She whispered in my ear, I didn’t want to fuck Her. I broke the news that I have

Continue reading

Not where I belong

Posted in Dreaming of sex with tags on April 18, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

We were sat in a park. It was warm and sunny and all was right with the world. I was with friends – mostly a little younger than me. A friend of a friend was sat next to me. She was pretty. Undeniably so. She was chatty and interesting and interested. Her white Continue reading

Not Her

Posted in Dreaming of sex, Fixing a broken marriage, Sex therapy with tags , on February 12, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

Long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders like an advert for conditioner.
A touch of mascara and subtle shade of lipstick highlighted a smile that sang of a genuine love of life.
The scalloped hem of her orange floral blouse wafted, butterfly like, milimeters below her tits (which were Continue reading

Not the best start

Posted in Dreaming of sex, Fetishwear, Fixing a broken marriage with tags , , , , on September 16, 2017 by Accidental Masturbator

How we got talking about fetish clubs I’ll never know. Some time in the past, it must be around a decade ago, I recall there was a hint of a conversation, by way of a sheepish mention of TG, and before that even, at the party when my Wife and I first got together, when Continue reading

One of life’s great mysteries

Posted in Dreaming of sex with tags , on August 8, 2017 by Accidental Masturbator

About 4:30am I wake with a hard on.
Standard operating procedure.
I’d been dreaming about sex.
Still nothing unusual.
The dream had been about Continue reading

Wake up call

Posted in Dreaming of sex with tags , , on February 28, 2017 by Accidental Masturbator

When I woke, She was knelt over me, straddling my head, pinning me to the bed.
She ground Her Continue reading

Dream party

Posted in Dreaming of sex with tags , , , on October 11, 2015 by Accidental Masturbator

Just in case you weren’t with me the other day, Inattentive Reader, I’ve had several thematically linked dreams recently, which may give you some indication of what’s on my mind just now …

Dream #2

My Wife and I were going to a party. It wasn’t to be hosted by anyone we knew, and I think attendance must have been strictly by invitation. We were accompanied by Continue reading

Sweet dreams

Posted in Dreaming of sex, Fetishwear with tags , , , , on October 6, 2015 by Accidental Masturbator

It is a common assertion that our dreams are rooted in our day to day lives : the things that are a the forefront of our waking minds are also at the forefront of our sleeping minds. There’s been a common theme to several of my dreams in the last week or two: can you guess what might be on my mind, Perceptive Reader?

Dream #1

Somehow, my Wife and I were at a sex expo. (Obviously this Continue reading

And Stephen Spielberg’s assistant said …

Posted in Dreaming of sex with tags , , , , , on October 2, 2015 by Accidental Masturbator

A couple I know are both actors. Let’s call them James and Joanna. This one is about them. And Stephen Spielberg.

Dream #3

I was going to be staying with James and Joanna for a few days. James showed me to their spare room where I would be sleeping, – a small dark room with a single bed, and dominated by a large, old, mahogany wardrobe.  I was told to make myself at home and come downstairs when I was settled. I enquired about the wardrobe, but was told firmly it was nothing of interest.

When James had departed, my curiosity was peaked and Continue reading

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