Cottage Nostalgia

Years ago I had the hottest boyfriend, he had a black belt in karate and a heavy motorcycle. We split up, but since I moved back to my hometown, I have started dreaming about him. I dream that he surprisingly parks his motorcycle outside a restaurant, where I eat with a couple of colleagues, and waves with the extra helmet and shows that sexy, a bit hard and dangerous smile. My colleagues say "Go!", and almost like in a dream I walk towards him, hop on the motorcycle just like I did back then and off we go.

I love his back, I love his loins, I love to touch him again. I know where we are going: to the cottage, where it all started. Yes, I want him. I want him back and he picked me up! Motorcycles were our lives: him with his bandana in blue, and me with the bandana in red. His concentration, the only person I trust - and fear! - in the world.

In the cottage we have beautiful slow sex. He smiles when he sees that I do not shave my bush; he knows I will never do that since the time he told me that he hates shaved women. His body is as strong and hard as before, even if we are already 40 years old. He always loved my D-cups, I know he has missed them. As he knows my sad sexual story, he is always gentle, caring, but he can also be firm and decisive when he knows I am into that. He remembers: I prefer girls, but I love him. No blow jobs, no dicks in my face, no cums - except for inside me. He picks up that old mirror, that has been in the cottage for 20 years. Arranges it so that I can see what he does with his fingers to my bush, what he slowly does to with his mouth to my swollen cunt lips... and it is all in slow motion. I love it. I love him.

After wonderful, dreamlike slow sex, seriousness and smiles, we walk down to the ice cold water and "have a bath" - just like in the summer 20 years ago. I am so happy. Dressing slowly, he drives me home, just like 20 years ago...

(Today he has a family. My dream will never come true. But if you make it a film, I can watch it forever!) :)