Pauley: I wrote this ages ago and forgot about it. Re-found it, thought I'd put it up here for all to enjoy~!
She couldn't understand it, this fact that constantly appeared in her mind. She'd attempted to draw it many times, though it never came out right, probably because she wasn't the best artist.
She hadn't told anyone about it, unable to think of what she could say Oh hey, there's a strange woman I keep seeing and I'm undeniably attracted to her but I also want her to hold me and comfort me Yeah. That'd go down well.
The dreams had started about two months after she'd started seeing the woman's face in her mind.
At first they'd been pretty calm, just her and this woman drinking hot chocolate together, or the two of them sat on the couch.
And then they slowly got more and more graphic.
The woman would kiss her, she always initiated it, but Emma was the first to put hand to skin, touching the ivory pale flesh of the woman from her imagination.
She woke up yearning for something, more often than not a hand resting on her face, where the womans had been when they kissed, but her own hand was different. Larger, thicker fingers, darker. It didn't feel right.
It was a Friday evening, Henry was at a sleepover and Emma'd laid herself down on the couch to watch a film. At some point during it, she'd dropped off and that was when the dream took a turn for the truly explicit.
She woke with a name on her lips, a name that had never left her lips since she was five years old, when it had been beaten out of her. "Mommy..."
Her hand was not on her cheek, when she woke, because that was not where her hand had been, in the dream. Her hand was resting on her lower abdomen and she knew that she was soaked. She could feel it the second she moved, her jeans and underwear sticking to her as she shifted.
Making a split second decision, she muted the film, stripping off her clothing, only on the bottom half.
Pulling the image into her mind, conjuring up that perfect, porcelain face, that dark hair, those eyes, so soft and kind.
She let out a groan before her hand had even found it's target, before she had even so much as cupped herself.
One finger found her buzzing clit, her back arching in a perfect bow as she let out a quiet whimper, starting to circle it slowly, building herself up, her hips bucking in little jerks as she held on to the picture behind her eyes, that woman, that beautiful woman. Her Mommy. As the word entered her mind, along with the image of the woman, she wouldn't help the moan.
Why was that so erotic to her?
She chooses not to think about it as she slides two fingers into herself, moaning again as she begins to pump her fingers slowly, feeling herself get closer and closer to the edge.
She screwed her eyes shut, imagining the woman atop her, her slim, slender fingers pushing into her.
As her release finally crashed into her, she let out a joyous cry, the word slipping from her mouth unbidden.
"Mommy!"
