What dream is this?
Last night, I had an amazing dream. Do sit and listen, for I shall tell you all about it.
In this dream I was having a wonderful day, wandering along a boardwalk, visiting various shops. I recall a quaint little pet store, with a wonderful assortment of puppies and very cute little counter girl whose thong peeked just above her jeans. A little trashy for my taste, but alluring nonetheless.
It was just outside this pet store that I met a small group of boys. Rowdy things in baggy jeans, eager to whistle and hoot at me. How disrespectful! (On a note I'd like to add how I abhor clothes that are far too big for a person. How ungainly.) But I played along, showed a demure little blush as tho I were flattered by their vulgar display of male aptitude.
So, being the polite and personable woman I am, I chatted and laughed. I always make friends, easily. A woman with a smile and killer legs is always hard to resist, remember that girls. Eventually tho I singled out the shortest one, the weaker one. I believe it's some predatory thing. Weed out the little ones, less distraction when you're on your lunge for the big prey.
Under the layers of cotton and denim I could tell this little thing was but a dainty fawn, waiting for something life changing. And of course, the look of surprise in his eyes is unmistakable when I invite him to my house. I've seen this look before, tho to be certain I do not invite just anyone back to my apartment. Excitement follows as we disengage ourself from his friends. I'm nearly a head taller than this little shrimp. What was his name? I do not recall. Let's call him Pat. A pretty ambiguous name, don't you agree?
The bedroom door closes. He's already 80% out of his clothes. Dear thing. They're so wiry when they're excited, aren't they? I demand he get on the bed and be quiet, all the while shuffling thru my closet, into a box of pretty latex attire I seem to have accumulated. I know what I'm searching for. I know what I want him to be.
Poor thing, he doesn't know what to expect and I bring out a handful of latex and some frilly lace.
This is where it gets really fun for me. His eyes are wide, uncertain of the plot. But in the presence of a statuesque, blonde beauty that seems to command the very airflow of the room, he is powerless to do anything but acquiesce to what I say. So I begin taking the remaining layers of his clothes off, carefully shying away from that precious little package he had hidden under such unseemly attire.
He says nothing as I begin to stretch the black latex stockings up over his knees. I remember this part vividly. I'm not sure why we didn't use some lubricant, or even baby powder when applying these garments. I think it's a little fun tho, doing it dry, letting it snag on hairs, having to tug a little harder. The latex seemed to stretch over his knees a little unfavorably, it began to stretch a little thin and transparent. But I liked the appearance of it.
These stockings affixed to a wonderful black garter belt that was bordered by white latex ruffles. God, I love ruffled latex. Next was a shiny black corset topped off with a black bolero, no bra, not this time. The apron was the most precious part. He didn't have any underwear on. Free balling as they say. But the tiny little apron, sheer in its lacy motif, was the perfect accessory for my dainty little maid.
At this point, I couldn't resist. I felt weakened by how wonderful I had made him look. I straddled his thin hips, squeezing my luscious thighs against his body and showered him with an array of kisses. I liked this part best of my dream. No words were spoken, all but for the pounding of his heart was quiet.
I woke up soon afterwards. Sigh. All the best things must end too soon, mustn't they?
But, darlings, should we wish to discuss this further, I am but a phone call or a tribute away, am I not?
xoxo,
Miss Ohmai
