IN DREAMS: Gunny and Me by Erotic_keys
Is it cheating if it is only a dream? , This is just a short story. I wrote it and it is significantly toned down from my usual as I was going to post it on another site that didn’t allow some genres, but even in a dream they wouldn’t allow it. I should probably go back and enhance it, but enjoy this version for now.
He comes to me most mornings. In that time, just before full awakening when the mists of sleep and the fog of dreams pervade and control my mind.
He owns my soul in these dreams. He controls my very existence. I wouldn’t have it any other way, at least not in my dreams. I would have to do some serious thinking to allow his mastery in my wakened world, but he only exists in the mist-shrouded depths of my mind, that foggy abyss between reality and fantasy.
He enters my room as the first streaks of light begin to insinuate their tendrils through the cracks and crags of my sleep-shrouded mind.
He is always dressed the same way. The fatigue uniform of a Marine Corp sergeant caresses his muscular frame, as I wish I could. He wears the pants and boots, but only a black Tee shirt, so tight it seems almost painted to the chiseled muscles of his upper torso and the massive guns of his arms.
He usually has camouflage makeup painting his face. The two shades of green and the brown contrasting the black of his skin. He clutches a half smoked cigar in his perfect white teeth.
As he enters the room, he begins to bark commands at me.
“On your feet slut, Gunny is on deck.”
I jump to a semi-rigid position of attention by the bed, as quickly as my sleep-fogged mind can direct my body to obey.
I am dressed the same way each morning in a tight ‘little-girl’ Tee and the skimpiest of bikini panties. I used to wear gowns or pajamas to bed, but Gunny now controls my attire and my actions.
He briefly inspects me as I stand awaiting the directions he might give this morning. He stands behind me now and I feel his hand slip inside the leg elastic of my panties and run across the smoothness of my ass to grasp the leg elastic on the other side. His huge hand easily grips both sides and pulls the fabric together in a bunch to briefly transform the bikini panties into a thong.
I feel the gusset at the crotch of the panties draw tight against my fully flushed pussy. My lips are bloated and full with the blood of my lust. My cunt has already started to produce my girl-juice that is the non-verbal invitation to what may lie in store. I know Gunny has something nasty in mind. He always does. I love being required to participate in every nasty depraved thing he dreams up for me.
Gunny free hand slaps my now naked ass cheek and I let out a small shriek. It isn’t the pain of the slap for I enjoy the small minor painful results of his totally dominating love style. It is the surprise when it happens that causes my weak verbal protest.
I feel my ass warming from his abuse. If I could turn to look, a sharply contrasted handprint would be starting to form, the red heat of its contact contrasting the white of my never tanned ass. I dare not break my position of attention, though, until Gunny directs me to.
He bends at the waist to look between my legs and is treated to the full gusset beauty of my lips filling the crotch of my panties. I have been gathering my excitation since he entered the room and the petals of the lips of my pussy are fully engorged with the blood of my lust, now that he has started his use of me. I can feel the wetness of my girl-juice flowing from my swampy cunt and I know he can see the wet spot forming in my panties.
“I see my little slave girl is pleased to see me this morning.” he smirks. It isn’t a question, but I know I am allowed to speak at this point.
“Yes Master. The slut is always pleased when Gunny comes to use his slut in the mornings.”
I speak of myself in the third person, using the words of my humiliation, because I know Gunny likes this manner. I enjoy the debasement, though self-applied and minor at this point. I so love calling myself a slut.
I am a slut after all, though you would never know that if you saw me in real life. It is only in these forays of the mind or when I am alone with my husband in the bedroom that I can be the slut I truly am. My mind briefly lingers on the words Gunny has said to me many times.
“Society sucks because they laud a man for being a slut but castigate a woman for acting in the same manner. A man can fuck 20 different women in one night if he has the stamina and will be commended with labels like, stud and cutter. While if a woman does the same thing she is labeled libelously with terms like slut and whore. Perhaps there will never be true equality between the sexes for this reason alone, but we are finally moving closer.”
I am brought back to the now as Gunny moves to the front of my again.
“On your knees slut.” He bellows and I fall to my submissive position of service, as he requires.
I know what he wants for it matches my desire, yet I dare not take action until he gives me the word. He loves my green eyes framed by the blond hair that wreathes my white face, so I know that though technically a violation of protocol, I can look up at him. He looks down at me and bellows again though softer this time.
“Service me.”
I quickly begin to fumble with the buttons on the front of his fatigue pants to get at the massive tool that I long to feel enter my orifices and use me to my fullest potential as the slut I am.
Finally the arresting fabrics of his clothing are moved out of the way and his cock is freed. Though not all black men are massively endowed Gunny is one of them who is. His cock though not yet fully erect already hangs half way to his knees as I grasp it at the base and lift it. My tiny hand won’t reach completely around its massive girth.
My tongue slithers out like a snake sampling the air and catches the drop of pre-cum that has formed at the tip of this massive tool, the slightly salty bittersweet reward of my slutiness, my first treat of the morning.
I press the shaft of his stiffening cock against his belly and my tongue traces down the underside, of its great length, to finally reach the sack that contains the two eggs that will unleash their sweet load in a short while. I draw first one then the other into my mouth and suck lovingly before retracing my wet tongue path back to the purplish head. I open my mouth and engulf him. Fortunately the bulbous head is spongy and compresses as I draw him into my oral orifice. If not I would have to try to acquire the abilities of the snake to dislocate my jaw to allow my mouth to open further.
I bob my head on the first few inches, feeling my jaws complain as they stretch to accommodate the massive cudgel. Fortunately Gunny stands perfectly still and only moans as I bob my head up and down on the turgid woman-slayer between his legs.
I can deep-throat, as any good slut can, but if I were to attempt to deep-throat such a massive specimen of manhood, or if Gunny were to suddenly grasp my head and start to face fuck me, surely permanent damage would be done to my tiny throat as his huge tool slipped in and out of it. My cheeks indent, though only slightly. For even though I draw a significant vacuum with my mouth, there is no room for my cheeks to sink into, with his massive rod in my oral fuck hole.