Black Horse
Last night, I dreamed of a black horse. Upon waking, I looked in the dictionary
of dreams I keep in my bedside table, to see if there is any significance to
this particular night time vision. It seems a dream of a black horse is a dream
of passion. Considering all that has happened in the past weeks, I am not
surprised.
When I was young I kept a diary, as I grew into puberty I began writing down
fantasies. I dreamed of boys and the things they would do to me. I'd write down
everything I could remember while it was still fresh in my head. At first it was
the usual, kissing and touching, but the more I learned the kinkier my dreams
became. Of coarse a popular high school princess can't go around dressed like a
hooker picking up johns (one of my favorite dreams).
I'd had sex exactly once the first time I saw a hooker dressed to fuck. My
friends and I were hanging outside the movie theater. She leaned against the
corner of the building smoking a brown cigarette, looking confident and
sluttish. She wore a tight black mini dress with thigh high stockings and high
heels, I wondered if she had on panties, (in my dream, I didn't bother) I also
wondered if she'd done anything with anybody yet. The more I looked at her the
hotter I became. When my friends were done smoking we went in to the movie, but
I could think of nothing else except the hooker bent over the hood of some ones
car with her dress pulled over her ass and some nameless john fucking her from
behind. It turned me on so much I gave my first blowjob to my boyfriend that
night, I was only fifteen years old. He spread rumors about me of coarse, so I
ended our relationship and was more careful in the future. This only caused
frustration and depression to set in, I masturbated all the time to the images
on my computer. but what I really wanted was someone to experience my kinky
dreams with. I thought that was my husband.
After satisfying my urge for boys my dreams became more insane. Looking at my
diary of dreams I am reminded of why I began this quest. My marriage has been
stale since the honeymoon ended. My husband is great at everything he sets his
mind to, fortunately he is not the problem, my uncontrolled lust is. Sex has
become routine, my husband seems content, I'm not. Telling Ethan my fantasies
isn't exciting to me anymore. I needed more.
I met Ethan in high school he loved hearing about my fantasies, and we played
out many of them. He never talked bad about me or said I was weird or anything,
so I fell in love. We just married to quick, after the honeymoon I realized I
was right back where I was before, frustrated. I began masturbating to the
stories in my diary again. I decided the only way to save the marriage was to
cheat on my husband. I went to my diary and believed I had to live out my dreams
in order to be happy.
When I was a naive teenager I wrote about anything that made my pussy wet. My
friends at school once showed me a National Geographic picture of a naked
African tribesmen, the guy was hung like a horse. My friends giggled and pointed
and I played along. In reality my pussy was trembling. After the novelty wore
off I excused myself and went to the restroom to masturbate. The next day I
wrote of the dream where I had sex with a black man.
About a month ago I started living again with one of my hottest fantasies. so I
dressed in a short skirt, halter top and high heels, after much thought I
decided to ware panties. I went to a local bar in a black section of town. I got
many wolf whistles as entered the bar. It was a dirty place, but that was part
of its charm. The guys sitting around looked rough and hard, but this only
turned me on more. I flirted with a couple of guys and was having a great time.
It wasn't long until I found myself in a back room being fucked hard by more
than one guy. They called me thing like, white whore, cum slut and cock hole,
generally treating me like shit. I guess I got what I deserved. Almost as soon
as I entered the place I was flirting hard with every guy that came up to me.
Soon I was grabbing crotches and nibbling on ears, wondering if they had big
cocks like in my dreams. These are not the kind of guys that you say no to after
you been feeling them up all night, but since I have fantasies of humiliation
and degradation I loved everything they did to me. After several guys pounded my
pussy for a while they finished and left me fucked out. I had cum dripping from
my used pussy hole and I felt more satisfied than I had for a long time. I
thought I was going to satisfy one fantasy by fucking a black man, but instead
ended up satisfying many of my dreams. I walked to my car with cum dripping down
my leg, my panties were gone and guys were yelling absentees, but I didn't feel
bad, or guilty, just satisfied. When I got home I decided I was not going to lie
about what happened if my husband asked. My husband didn't ask, so I didn't say
anything. I was close to my husband that night, I gave him the genital loving
that he was used to, and because I was bad a few hours earlier it made it
unusually exciting for me. When I woke the next day I was satisfied like I
hadn't been in a long time. I was now convinced I was doing the right thing by
living out my dreams.
I was at the mall yesterday and there was a cop on a horse, I'd seen this before
except this horse seemed to have an erection. It turned me on a little bit, but
I didn't think much about it. That night I had another of my kinky dreams. The
next morning I wrote down my latest dream while it was still fresh in my mind. I
was in a meadow, it was a warm sunny day and I was naked riding bare back on a
magnificent black stallion. My wet pussy bounced up and down on the big studs
back as we rode. All I wanted was his big cock in my little pussy, I jumped off
of his back and my attention was drown to what was making me so wet, his cock
was fully extended, a full twenty four inches long and as round as my arm. I got
on my knees and took hold of his massive cock in one hand and cupped his apple
sized balls in the other. I took the object of my lust into my watering mouth
and gently sucked the huge head.
Writing the passage in my diary was making me horny. I reached my free hand to
my pussy and scratched my itch while I wrote. In my dream I was able to deep
throat the giant horse dick, and with twenty inches of cock going down my throat
I'd stick my tongue out and lick the giant balls.
The picture in my head of this impossible act caused me to stop writing for a
moment and masturbate to orgasm. What was happening to me, why were my dreams
becoming so passionately crazy. This was a fantasy that could not possibly
happen, so why was it so intense? Why did I love acting like a slut? Why did I
not feel guilty about cheating on my husband? So many questions I didn't feel
like answering at that moment. After my orgasm I finished writing down my most
perverted dream to date.
After sucking the beautiful cock for a few minutes I walked to a bench that just
happened to be there, the giant beast fallowed me. I lie on my back and pulled
my knees tight to my arm pits, the next thing I know I have twenty inches of
cock pushing into my expanding pussy (another imposable act that causes my pussy
to drip, while I wrote.) The black horse cock fucks me hard and fast bringing me
to one orgasm after another. I feel the cock deep into me.
What would normally kill me was bringing me intense pleasure in my dream. When I
finished writing the latest passage of my dreams I masturbated again. I kept
telling myself this can't happen, it's impossible, my little pussy couldn't take
such a fucking. As I tried to talk myself out of realizing my latest dream, I
found myself in front of the computer looking up bestiality sites. I saw image
after image of women having sex with horses, maybe it is possible, I thought. I
Emailed a couple from Alabama and asked them many questions. There wasn't anyone
on the other end to converse with, so I had to wait for an answer. I showered,
dressed and went on with my day, but all I could think about was the lucky
couple that had sex with horses when ever they wanted. I masturbated several
times during the day waiting for a reply to my Email. Is this going to be my
next dream come true...only time will tell.
