I had a dream about John fucking me senseless before I’d even met him in person.

My name is Denise, and at that time I’d been unhappily divorced for almost five years. I wasn’t unhappy about being divorced, not at all. My marriage descended into a living hell very quickly, and my only regret was not pulling the plug sooner. Rather, my unhappiness stemmed from my post-divorce relationships. There had been three, each of them starting off as blind dates arranged by a friend or co-worker but none lasting longer than six months. Supremely unfulfilling.

I couldn’t understand why I was having such a hard time finding Mr. Right. I’m completely self-sufficient financially and I know that I’m very attractive. Granted, I’m on the wrong side of forty (just barely), but I’m taller than average, have long blonde hair, and am very fit. Plus, I had my boobs done a year earlier. They were high, firm, and proud. I couldn’t keep my hands off them. How could any red-blooded, heterosexual man?

I decided to try online dating in the hope that a computer algorithm would know my taste in men better than my friends and co-workers apparently did. But after a couple of bad first dates and countless online approaches that could only be described as either “creepy” or “disgusting,” I was on the verge of cancelling my membership. It had gotten so bad that my son made a game out of looking at men’s profiles on the site and making fun of them.

One August evening he was logged into my account doing his thing while I made dinner. His running commentary made me laugh out loud more than once. “This dude belongs in a leper colony,” he said about one. “Yikes, I think I saw this guy’s picture on a ‘Wanted’ sign at the post office,” he chuckled about another. “Oh my God, this next guy is sixty and he looks like his mother dressed him for his profile pic.”

That continued for about fifteen minutes, then he suddenly got quiet. I turned away from the stove and asked, “What, you found one that created an account from prison or something?”

“No,” he replied. “This one actually seems normal.”

I snatched the laptop away to look for myself. The man’s name was John. He was my age and very handsome. He had blue eyes and brown hair going slightly grey at the temples. He was a doctor, divorced for three years. The rest of his profile was, as my son initially reported, completely normal. I immediately sent him a “Like.”

John replied later that evening and told me that he liked what he saw in my profile and pictures. We communicated for two days through the dating site before he finally suggested it would be easier to text each other. I gave him my cell number and we texted and flirted mildly for a couple more days.

After what seemed like an eternity, John finally asked if I’d like to meet him for dinner. Are you free tomorrow? I asked.

He sent back an LOL, then followed it with, For you, I am. I’m sure I blushed.

We made plans to meet at an Italian restaurant about halfway between our respective houses, then we texted and flirted some more until well after midnight. I told John that I couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow, then we said goodnight.

I fell asleep quickly, and the next thing I knew, John entered my dreams. We were kissing passionately in a hallway outside a hotel room door. I pulled him close to me and ran my hands all over his back while he fumbled for the key card. When the door swung open, I would’ve fallen over backwards had he not had his free arm strongly around my waist. I backed into the room, nibbling on John’s lower lip and pressing my boobs into his chest. When I felt the edge of the bed against the back of my legs, I pulled him down on top of me.

I was wearing a black dress that ended about four inches above my knees. I wrapped my legs around John’s body and it rode up immodestly, but I didn’t care and he didn’t notice. He was too busy kissing me deeply and using his body to crush me into the mattress. Then, using his forearms, he lifted himself just enough so that he could paw at my chest. He moaned into my ear as he fondled my big, round tits.

John then lifted himself off of me and stood at the end of the bed. He looked down at me with my legs parted and my dress up around my waist, my chest heaving. His face was pure desire as he took in my thigh-high stockings and the tiny triangle of black lace that barely hid my eager pussy. “Are you wet for me?” he asked in a low, husky voice.

“Mmmmm, yes,” I purred.

“Show me.”

I reached down and pulled my thong panties to one side, exposing my bald, dripping pussy to him. John undid his belt and pants without taking his eyes off the treasure between my legs. He pushed his pants down and stepped out of them and then tore off his shirt. His cock strained against his tight boxer shorts. “It looks like you have something for me too,” I said.

John reached into the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His glorious cock sprang free, trailing a wisp of sticky pre-cum. “You mean this?” he asked with mock innocence as he began stroking his erection.

I shuddered and bit my lip as I imagined John burying his hard cock into me. “You know exactly what I mean,” I gasped.

“It’s for you all right, but not until after,” he teased.

“After?”

“Yes, after,” he replied.

John then grabbed my legs and pulled me toward him until my ass was at the edge of the bed. He reached for my thong and I lifted my hips just enough for him to peel it off me. He knelt down until his face was between my legs, about six inches from my trembling pussy. He blew on it lightly and the cool air on my wet folds made me jump. Then he licked my slit from bottom to top.

John eagerly lapped away at my pussy. He alternated long, flat strokes against my dripping hole with rapid flicks of my clit with the tip of his tongue. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could get a better look at him feasting on my mound. John then looked into my eyes and stuck his tongue as deep into me as he could. He rubbed my clit with his thumb while he licked and sucked my vagina.

John ate my pussy expertly until I felt the first sensations of an orgasm building deep within me. I really wanted to suck his cock and make him feel as good as he was making me feel, but I wasn’t going to stop him now. I arched my back, and he understood the signal that I was getting very close to cumming. He focused all his attention on my sensitive clit and tongue fucked me to heaven. I came hard, shuddering and shaking, while John greedily licked up my wetness.

“Stop, stop,” I panted. “It’s sensitive after I cum.”

John reluctantly relinquished my pussy and kissed the inside of my thighs as my orgasm subsided. Then he stood and smiled devilishly. He took his throbbing cock in his hand and lubricated it with his pre-cum. He stroked it long and slow while I regained my senses. Then he grabbed my ankles, threw them onto his shoulders and aimed his rigid cock at my pussy. He rubbed the head up and down my slit and then placed it at the entrance to my quivering cunt.

“See?” John said. “I promised this was for you, and I always keep my word.”

With that, he buried his cock in me to the hilt. I was so wet there was almost no resistance at all. I felt his balls against my ass and thought I must have been in heaven. John held still for several seconds, then started pumping his manhood in and out.

“Yes, yes, keep fucking me,” I begged. “Your cock is so good.”

John plowed me relentlessly. The room was filled with the sounds of our skin slapping together and my wet pussy swallowing his cock. Sweat was forming on his forehead and chest, and I could smell my scent in the air. He was using me like a fuck doll, and I absolutely loved it. I squeezed my tits through my dress and felt my pussy juice dripping down onto my asshole.

Meanwhile, John was laser-focused on my cunt. He watched his iron-hard cock penetrate me with ease, grunting and groaning with every thrust. I knew he was concentrating hard on trying not to cum, but I was having none of that.

“Cum, John, cum for me,” I pleaded. “I need your big load. My pussy needs all your hot, sticky cum.”

“No, I don’t want to stop fucking you,” he panted.

“Please, John, I want it. You know you want it too. Empty those big, beautiful balls into me. It’ll feel so fucking good.”

John shook his head, but he starting fucking me harder. He jackhammered his throbbing cock into my willing cunt until it was just a blur. Then he let out a savage groan and collapsed on top of me with his cock pressed deep inside. I felt it twitching inside me as his warm cum flooded my insides and we panted together like we’d just run a marathon.

I woke up with a start. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and what had happened. Sadly, it was just a dream, but my soaking wet panties provided proof that it was amazing nonetheless.

Now I was determined to find out if the real thing would be as good.