Thoughts of a Woman
I truly wonder about myself when I lay here at night, in my big king-size bed, my husband gently snoring on his side. I wonder why I, a 48-year-old woman with two grown kids, imagine so often about fighting.
Oh, no, not fighting with my husband, or fighting as in arguments with co-workers, or any of a dozen things people might mean by fighting.
I’m talking about physically fighting with another woman. And it’s not that there’s any particular woman I want to fight. It’s just the idea of fighting with a woman…well, it gets me going. It’s exciting. The idea of meeting someone like that, and…and….slapping her. Or pulling her hair. Or punching her. Or just falling down to the floor with her and rolling around, cursing and yelling….well, I’ll say it again – it gets me going.
I love the idea of rolling around the floor with another mature woman, or on a big bed, or on the ground outside. I get so excited thinking about doing it dressed, in skirts or wraparound dresses, and I see them getting torn away, revealing our nudity to each other. My breasts feel swollen, and I sometimes squeeze them to imagine another woman’s breasts crushing them, with the nipples jabbing hard into our breast flesh.
And sometimes I just want to be absolutely naked with there, and I think of us beholding each other’s bodies, comparing them. I can see the firm legs and wide hips, and see her sex, and I long to feel her breasts fill my hands.
And lately I’ve been having some strange dreams.
There’s a neighbor, a dark-haired exotic looking woman about my age. She lives two houses down. We’ve sometimes shared a cup of coffee. She’s tall and she has nice C-cup sized boobs, and her hair is jet black and long, untouched with any grey. She’s about my age. Once, over coffee, my husband took a snap of us, standing together. Me, with my sandy-blonde hair, breasts not quite as large as hers, two inches shorter.
And I dreamed we took a shower together. I remember feeling so very naughty climbing into the shower with her, and we washed ourselves, and we would bump into each other and giggle. And then…got our hair all wet, and we started shampooing each other, standing there, our hands tangled in each other’s hair, laughing and rubbing the foaming shampoo deep into the scalp. Running our fingers through the thick strands of hair felt so good, her strong hands tugging and it started to get so much hotter.
We continued with the hands deeply entangled in each other’s hair, our bodies rubbing together under the stinging spray of the shower. Our breasts rubbed against each other and legs got so twisted together I wondered why we didn’t fall. And I felt her shaven sex rub against mine, our clits meeting in electric waves of sensation, and we were pouring our own womanly nectar onto each other. We screamed at each other in pure raw violent ecstasy, as we fucked each other’s pussies, crashing them, grinding them, and our mouths kissed and bit and chewed.
Yes, I did come. So hard, and so wet.
And even now, reminiscing, I want to do it with her….again and again. And fight. And fight like that again.
Yes….I wonder about myself.
