My subconscious self is a slutty show-off [F]

Note – This is a repost of a story I posted last year and later deleted.

I couldn’t resist the alliteration.

I’m not much of a writer, but I’ve been encouraged to post on this subreddit by a friend of mine; my skype daddy who has helped me explore my sexuality. Be warned – this post is going to be a tease with little actual sexual content.

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First, a little context. I’ve grown up in a culture that tends to breed many sexually repressed people, and though most of my friends are relatively liberated, I’ve always been diffident with regards to expressing my sexuality. At 22 years old, I’m still a virgin. Sex is something I don’t think I’ll let myself have until I find a special-enough someone.

You can count the number of sexual experiences I’ve had on one hand. In the past I’ve given handjobs, been fingered, given and received oral, but not nearly enough. And of course, the lack of intimacy and the missing touch of a man feels like a hole in my life that needs to be filled, no pun intended. However, after the last eight years of furious masturbatory sessions with these fingers, I’ve grown to love them.

I’m the kind of girl that needs to get off, well, most days. Over the last several days I’ve held off diddling the skittles, which has really been a test in self-control. My body craves pleasure. Sensations feel heightened. Occasionally, I’ll open reddit and browse /r/gonewildstories by default, teasing myself. It usually leads to me humping the air, my pussy clamping down on nothingness.

I’m not going to lie, I’m a big consumer of pornographic media as a form of entertainment. It’s not unusual for me to listen to /r/gonewildaudio before bedtime. It helps me get to sleep. I’ve usually already rubbed one out, so although a deep, masculine voice can make me tingle, GWA doesn’t always make me uncontrollably horny. The other night, however, my subconscious showed me just how little control I have over my horniness, as my dirty desires manifested themselves, conspicuously, into my dreams. As I fell asleep with my earbuds in, the stimulation of the soft sheets against my hard nipples was enough to keep me on edge.

As dreams tend to go, the scene played out quickly.

There I was in a hotel of sorts where the walls were composed of tall glass panels and white frames, leaving the insides of the rooms next door in full view. I was in a hotel room, with the hallway running parallel next to one side of the room. The bedroom across the hall had an attractive black man inside it. The bedroom beside mine had a different man, with a glass door and the glass walls separating us. [Here’s](https://imgur.com/a/C6TyY27) a quick Sims 4 representation of the layout. The object of my fantasy, who is apparently [the guy that played Doran Martell in Game of Thrones](https://i.imgur.com/O54nTW1.jpg), was in the next room. I watched him in Peaky Blinders recently, but I didn’t see *DisneyCEO’s wet dreams* on his IMDB page.

All I was wearing was a simple light grey robe, lazily tied up at the front, nothing too sexy. But it was short. Even for my 5’1” frame, the robe left my thighs fully on display. The slit that came into view when I’d walk, under where the sides of the fabric folded over, was far too high up. Apparently, slut shaming doesn’t exist in this dream world, and neither does my modesty.

It’s obvious to me how turned on I am by the glass walls that hide nothing, and by my outfit that hides, in the opinion of my dream-self, still too much. The warmth in my lower half is growing, and I can feel it taking over as I give into my body instead of rationality.

Exhibitionism is a bit of a kink of mine that I haven’t been able to engage in given the traditional nature of the culture I’m surrounded by. There’s the occasional trip to the store with leggings on and nothing underneath, but I think that’s the extent of my exploration.

I suspect that I realized I was dreaming and had begun to lucid dream at some point, which led to me waking up earlier than I would have liked. Before I was woken up to reality, though, I was able to have some fun.

Finding myself in this exposed state visible to these two men really got me going. Initially, I got into bed and slid under the sheets, giving my thighs a little rub as my eyes trailed to the fit black man in the room across the hall. I could see him standing up, folding a shirt, glancing in my direction casually but never once making eye contact. I spread my legs under the covers, letting my fingers run over my clit, whimpering shamelessly in sight of the two men. I soon had enough of being under the covers. I stood up and walked over to the glass wall between my room and the next, at which point in the dream the sexy black man was forgotten. The bright lights from my room spilled into Doran Martell’s own dimly lit room and illuminated his expressions. He was intrigued. I looked down suddenly and noticed my robe had parted entirely at the bottom, leaving my pussy completely exposed. The view only made me wetter, and I looked back up at him. I was on display for him as I stood right behind the glass. Still in his bed, he stared at me, challenging me with his eyes.

I was giving into a fantasy I had always had. My pussy was soaked as I turned around and stretched, unabashedly letting my robe rise well above my ass. The belt helped keep my ass exposed as I lowered my arms. Dream physics. I walk over to the chair in the room, resting one foot up on it, pretending to rub my foot as I bent over slightly. I looked back at him to make sure I still had his attention, while bending over to make sure he had a good view of my slightly spread ass cheeks. I was giving him what I knew he wanted, and he knew that I wanted it too.

I was desperate for some relief. Being in full sight of these strong men so close to me had me flushed. I pulled the robe back down before taking a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I don’t think I felt embarrassed by my behavior or was even trying to maintain a sense of dignity. It felt so freeing, being able to show off like that and feel great about it.

Still letting my body do the talking, I walked over to the door between the man’s room and mine. I opened it and stepped into his room, taking in the scent of his territory. I was nervous, but unashamed. I’d love to say this is the part in the dream where the sexy man fulfills all my desires and makes love to me in every position possible, but in actuality this is the part where the dream ends, and I wake up annoyed that it ended so quickly.

Waking up in a puddle has certainly motivated me to look up and try out some lucid dreaming techniques in the future. I think it’s sort of beautiful how the dream was a medium of sexual expression, and how it filled me with a sense of freedom from my sexually repressive culture. I wonder what Freud would have to say about it.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/boixyc/my_subconscious_self_is_a_slutty_showoff_f