Every night I have dreams. For the last year, a night hasn’t passed without having incredible erotic fantasies while I sleep. It has become such a common occurrence in my life that I started to see a doctor about it. Her name is Dr. Wendy Morton. She is a psychologist who specializes in dream and sexual therapy.

Finding the right person was not an easy task. I had to travel over three hours to see her in person. We decided to conduct our sessions via teleconference on Zoom. When we would have a session, I always massage my pussy. Of course, this was off-screen so she never knew that I was enjoying myself as I described what my sleep time imagination came up with.

Dr. Morton suggested that I write down my dreams. This way I would include as many details as possible and she could analyze them accurately. It has also helped me. As soon as I would wake up, I would start writing while the visions were still clear in my mind. Some of my dreams were so realistic; I would wake up having an orgasm. I would come so frequently, that I started to look forward to my nighttime fantasies.

After six months of therapy, we concluded that the reason for my dreams was a long-time denial of sexual pleasure throughout my thirty-five-year marriage. When that chapter of my life ended, I discovered a whole new life of enjoyment. She suggested that I carry out some of the more safe and satisfying fantasies. I asked her which I should act upon. Her best answer was that it was for me to decide.

I gathered all the notes from my dreams. As I read through pages of what I envisioned in my sleep, the choice was easy for me; all of them. Let me share a few of the reoccurring illusions that would bring me to an awakening climax.

I’ll start with one of the rare dreams that I can’t carry out.

It takes place in the early 1800s and I am the captain of a pirate ship sailing the Barbary Coast of Africa. I am one of the only female pirate captains and I have a reputation for brutality. My crew is all female, making this unique as it is the only ship on the Mediterranean made up of women.

We cruise the seas looking to take any treasures and prizes available. In addition to the riches that we pilfer, I usually find the healthiest man on the ship to have my way with him before I sell him into slavery to the Bashar of Tripoli.

Once we board a ship, my crew takes all the men on deck and has them strip naked. I inspect the prisoners and choose the best-hung bull in the group. I’ll usually tie him in front of everyone and entice him to fuck me to the cheers of my crew. As soon as I come, I am finished with him, usually denying him any pleasure. On the off chance he has an orgasm; I make him suck his seed from my pussy, forcing him to swallow every drop.

Only then can the women of my crew pick their studs for their enjoyment and humiliation. My girls will have an orgy on deck fucking each captured sailor, sometimes forcing them to suck their pussies too. The only time the captives are allowed to come is during homosexual sex when the men fuck or suck one another. My gang of privateers enjoys humiliating our captives with shouts of encouragement and applause.

Every time I have that dream, I wake up panting and wet. Occasionally, my fingers will still be stroking myself, enjoying an orgasm. Many dreams were about making passionate love with a special person. Other dreams included various bondage sessions, lesbian fantasies, swapping, cheating husbands, orgies, and gangbangs.

This is another of my favorite reoccurring fantasies in my sleep.

A close friend takes me to a club in New York City. It was amateur night on the main stage, open to anyone who wanted to dance for money. There were two rules to enter, by the end of the “dance” you had to be completely nude and if someone wanted a lap dance, you had to go to a private room with that person.

After watching several young ladies spin and prance on stage, I decided to enter my name on the roster of dancers. I was nervous and by many years, the oldest person scheduled to dance. I didn’t care. I was hoping that someone would want a private dance from me.

I was called to the stage. The DJ wanted to know what music I wanted to dance to. I asked him to play my favorite song, “Girls, Girls, Girls” by Motley Crue. The DJ smiled, I think he was surprised at my choice. He cued up the song and I was on my way.

My dress was off in no time. Then my bra was on the floor. I danced and stuck my ass in several men’s faces. Halfway through the song, my thong was on the floor too. Dollar bills were being tossed my way. One guy called me over and stuck a hundred in the crack of my ass.

After my set, I step off the stage to loud applause and men wanting a private dance. I always wake up before I get to perform a lap dance. I am usually in a post-orgasmic sweat when my eyes open.

One last reoccurring dream I want to share.

I am tied to a weightlifter bench. My wrists are secured above my head and my legs are suspended in the air stretched to a point where I can’t move. A woman approaches with a spray bottle filled with olive oil. She sprays me, making me as slick as ice.

Once I am completely oiled down, men and women line up and spend time massaging my body from head to toe. An occasional finger makes its way inside me. I scream with sheer delight. Over and over, people are pinching and kneading my tits and nipples. The same woman in each dream strokes my clit until I beg her to stop. I have no idea who she is.

Again, my dream ends with me awake, sitting up in bed, descending from an incredible sleeping orgasm.

Our sessions were coming to an end. The doctor had taken me as far as she could. The rest was up to me. I scheduled our final session to take place in person late on a Friday afternoon. It was important to me that we see each other in person face-to-face. Online meetings work but, there is something different when you are in the same room when meeting. When I arrived, we started our meeting right away.

She asked me the first question, “Did you dream last night?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Care to elaborate?”

For the first time since starting therapy, I was reluctant to tell her about my dream. It was so personal for me to make this confession. My hesitation surprised the doctor. I remained silent.

“What’s wrong Darlene? You’ve told me some very intimate details of your past sleep fantasies. Why are you holding back now?”

I took a deep breath. “I knew this would be our last session. I had a wild dream about you. Well, I mean you and me.”

The doctor squirmed in her chair. “You aren’t the first person that included me in their dreams. I analyze many different situations. Whatever you tell me, I’m certain, won’t be the first time I’ve heard it. Go ahead, speak to me.”

I needed to let her know. “Let me start by telling you, this is not part of the dream. Every Zoom session we’ve had, I was naked from the waist down, out of view of the camera. I would masturbate throughout our discussion.”

“Do you think I didn’t know that? I’m a Sex Therapist. I can recognize an orgasm. You are not very good at hiding when you climax. Would you like to demonstrate what you do to satisfy your urge?”

Oh my God, she wanted me to come right in front of her. I am not at all shy about my sexuality. I’ve been to orgies and sex clubs. I even was the main attraction in a gangbang. But, she is a medical professional, so it was such a surprise that she wanted to see me massaging myself.

My attire for the day was a navy blue business suit with a white silk blouse. When I dress for the office it is usually the only time I wear panties and a bra. This appointment was after work, so that day was no exception. I looked like the attorney that I am. I didn’t want to dress like the slut I am in my off-hours for this appointment.

I hiked up my skirt, pulled my silk panties to the side, and exposed my very wet pussy. My fingers started to slide up and down as I described the dream from the night before.

“It was so real, just as I’m sitting here now. You and I were talking. I confessed to you how I manipulate myself while I am describing my erotic dreams.” Just as I said that I paused as one finger was starting to press hard on my clitoris. It didn’t take long. My eyes rolled back in my head as I had an orgasm.

“My, you do peak quickly. That only took a minute. Continue telling me about your dream.”

If nothing else, I follow instructions. “In my dream, you were fascinated at the fact that I would hide pleasuring myself from you. You said that honesty was the only way to get to the real reason I have these sensational dreams.”

Again I had to pause. My body started to tremble. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop now or we’ll be here all afternoon.”

She snapped back, “Don’t you dare stop! This is good. You are expressing who you are by living out your fantasy. Go as many times as you want.”

I continued. “The dream was so strange, yet so real. You started asking me questions, most I can’t remember. One stuck out though. You asked me if I used any aids to achieve an orgasm.”

“In my dream, I didn’t answer you. Instead, a big smile came across my face. I lowered the camera to show you I was straddling a Sybian. It is strange because I don’t own one and I’ve never tried one”

As my words came out, I started to pant. I tried to hold back but couldn’t. The words just came out. “Oh shit… here it is again! Oh, Doctor Morton, I want you so bad! Touch me!”

My body slumped down in the chair. My skirt was up around my waist. The silk panties I started the day with were on the floor. I stopped speaking as I just wanted to concentrate on satisfying my urge to come. With my eyes shut tight and my head back my mind was going to another place. I was losing all sense of what I was saying.

I could vaguely hear Dr. Morton. She sounded as if she was a mile away. “That is good Darlene. Let yourself go.”

My hands grabbed the arms of the chair as my body lifted. It was only then that I understood that it wasn’t my fingers exploring my folds. Doctor Morton was kneeling in front of me, sliding her hand across my clit, driving me to another explosion.

“Wendy, this is what I dreamt about. Eat it! Go down on me! You fucking cunt, suck it!”

She held my wrists on the arms of the chair not allowing me to move. I spread wide open inviting her to me. Her head moved in, clamping onto my folds. She knew exactly what to do. I could hear her slurping and sucking as my hips started to gyrate and I was grinding into her face. Her tongue slid deep into me.

I knew I was shouting. The only words I remember were, “You’re a fucking cunt, I love you.” Not something I usually say when I am having an explosive orgasm.

She released my wrists and lifted her head from between my legs. “Now I want you.”

The dress she was wearing came off in one quick motion. There she stood, waiting for me. She looked remarkable; wearing black stockings, no bra, and no panties. Her pussy was shaved smooth. I never noticed what a slim body she had. Her legs were long, her tits were so small, almost nonexistent, and her nipples were puffy as if they had been sucked on for hours.

As she stood before me, I could feel myself becoming wet. Her hand reached out to me, lifting me off my chair. It felt like this was happening in slow motion.

“Come with me. I have a special room through this door.”

As we walked through the door together, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Dr. Morton had a full dungeon next to her office. I was speechless. It took me a minute to understand that this was going to be an incredible final session.