I've wanted her for so long – ever since she started cutting my hair about 10 years ago. She's married, and after too many failures with women who are taken – once without my knowing she was in a relationship, once knowing she was but thinking I could save her from a bad relationship, and once knowing full well what I was doing but justifying it with desperate loneliness – I'm finished trying that game. But that doesn't stop the fantasies… or the dreams.
She's a little shorter than I am, perhaps 5' 4". Curves for days. She's about seven or eight years older than me and defines 'milf' to a T. But her best feature is her hair. Blonde curls that come down to about her jaw, not a single strand of hair that isn't twisted and bouncy. It's hair that says "innocently playful but flirty and sexy."
What I wouldn't give to have those golden curls between my legs, her bright blue eyes staring up at me, the twinkle of that single tiny diamond stud in her nose winking up at me as her perfectly pink tongue finishes me off. I want to know that those curls feel like, wrapped around my fingers, tickling my thighs and hips…
Last night wasn't the first time I've dreamed of her, but certainly the most intense, most memorable. All day, I've felt my mind glazed with lust, thinking of things I know I'll never see with my eyes.
I was at her place, waiting for my turn to have my hair trimmed. Dreams are… strange. It also doubled as a school and a restaurant, and some sort of charity garden society. Don't ask me to explain – I cannot. The important thing is that we were there, more or less alone, and she had a project she needed my help with.
She was tailoring a pair of pants for herself. I'm sure she had some goal in mind, but whatever it was, it involved these brand new pants being quite thoroughly ripped, showing off her creamy, curvy thighs. "Do you think it's okay?" she asks as she turns these strange pants around to show off the back. Holy shit, the rips on the back are even better than the front. Her cheeks might as well be covered in a pair of tiny panties for all that they conceal.
"It's great," dream-me replies. She's doubtful. And there it is, the opening I've been waiting for for years.
"No, really. I've always thought you were hot. You have a great ass and legs."
Ah, sweet dreams indeed; apparently, that's all she needed to convince her. Now, she's not wearing pants at all and her naked legs are somehow over me, her bare feet on my face, asking me if her pedicure is sufficient. "Yes," I whisper, opening my mouth to kiss her soles, suck on her toes.
Then, she is on her back, we are both nude, and her body is waiting for me. She gasps as my thick cock parts her wet folds, my arms are around those spectacular thighs, and I am in heaven. Her tits are so perky, her nipples belong on a woman half her age. And she is so very, very tight. We cum together, and I feel like a dam has burst as I fill her with load after load of hot, sticky seed. In the manner of dreams, we've already moved on and recovered and at long last, her lips are around me, her tongue is magnificent, and those fucking gorgeous curls are liquid silk between my fingers. She looks up, giving me her best "good slut" gaze, and I'm spilling myself down her pretty little throat.
I woke up quite hot and bothered, and now it's time to take care of myself again.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/2l4312/my_hairdressermf