Dream About You

Darling young Dila still dreams of ballet. Her lean legs, narrow hips, and small breasts look built for it, the same way her pale skin looks made for the floor. The dream shifts. Heat pools between her thighs. She knows what this feeling means, even before her fingers drift down to find out. The one-piece comes off. She spreads her shaved lips, feels the slickness coating them, and a small sound escapes her throat. Her hand starts slow circles over her clit, careful at first, then quicker. She lies back, still wearing her ballet shoes, feet pointed, ankles flexed. One finger slips inside, then two, sliding through tight, wet heat. She squeezes her small breasts with her free hand, rolling the nipples until they stand stiff. Every position she tries only deepens the throb: hips lifted, knees bent, legs wide, one ankle resting on the opposite thigh. Her breath comes in short bursts. The pressure builds until it breaks, and her pussy clenches in hard, wet pulses. She stays open through every wave, letting the tremors run their course. When the last one fades, she stays on her back, breathing hard, toes still pointed.