Susan-Dream-BDSM-Blowjob

The problem was, Susan wasn't detailing her own dreams, as she only wanted to listen to Suzanne's.

After a while, Suzanne prodded her quite insistently about sharing, but Susan resisted. "Come on," Suzanne complained, not for the first time. "I've shared so much. We're best friends. It's only fair if you share some too."

"I know," Susan sighed heavily. "It's just that ... my dreams have been far too weird lately. Too ... improper. Downright scandalous, actually. For instance, this one dream I had last night... It was almost a nightmare, if it wasn't so... No! No, I can't!"

"Awww, Susan, you're killing me. You can't give a teaser like that and clam up!"

"I know. I'm sorry! But I just... can't! You'll think I'm weird. It's not just lusting after my own son, as if that isn't bad enough. I have all kinds of weird feelings that make me... Argh! I can't say!"

Suzanne looked at her gravely. "Uh-oh. This sounds serious. You have to tell me now. If for nothing else, for your own health. But since you're shy, I have an idea. Come with me." She held out her hand and pulled Susan to her feet.

Susan followed meekly. "Where are we going?"

"Just trust me. Have I ever led you astray?"

"No. Of course not."

Suzanne walked Susan up the two flights of stairs to Susan's bedroom. She explained that she needed Susan to take off all her clothes, lie under the covers in her bed, close her eyes, and relax. Once she was in the proper mood, then she should describe her "scandalous, almost nightmare" dream from the night before.

Susan wasn't happy. "I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"It's just..." She was too embarrassed to say, but she feared that if she started thinking about her dreams in that condition, she'd find herself masturbating before too long. In fact, she was almost sure of it, because thinking about her dreams lately made her so extremely horny.

Suzanne had already guessed that, which is exactly why she wanted Susan to talk under those circumstances. But she couldn't admit it, so instead she lied. "Look. This is a tried-and-true therapeutic technique. You've heard about Freud and how he had his patients lie on couches and such, right? It's like that, only more intense. We're getting as close as we can to putting you back in your dream state. As for why you have to get naked, well, it's a well-known fact that nudity induces honesty. Who can tell a lie when they're completely naked? Don't worry about me. I'm going to lie on the floor right next to the bed, like an analyst listening to a patient."

"What?" Susan was genuinely puzzled. "Lie on the floor? Why on Earth would you do that?"

"So it'll be like I'm not even there. You can't see me, and I can't see you. That way, we can't possibly make eye contact, so you won't be tempted to open your eyes. It's like my voice will just be floating in the air."

Susan sighed. "Very well. But let me get you a pillow or two for your head at least."

A few minutes later Susan was lying nude under her sheets. Her eyes were closed and she was able to get quite relaxed, even with Suzanne lying on the floor nearby (while still wearing her workout clothes). No doubt Susan's comfort level was a sign of how much she loved and trusted Suzanne, and felt safe with her in almost any situation. In fact, Susan got so relaxed that she became downright sleepy.

Suzanne talked to her in soothing tones until she sensed that everything was ready. Then she changed the topic and said, "Okay, it's time you tell me about the dream you had last night that particularly disturbed you. How did it start?"

Susan sighed. Thinking about the dream as a whole made her anxious, but she could describe the start easily enough. "Things started relatively normally. I was at home, cleaning. That's normal, right? The only unusual thing was that I was dressed like a French maid. Suzanne, ever since you made me wear one of those outfits, they've been haunting my dreams! I dream I'm wearing one of those cute little black-and-white outfits, except that I have no undies! Talk about improper, right there! And it's not just in one dream either. In this dream, my outfit was particularly outrageous. It had a risqué cut, like it was designed for some kind of professional stripper or something. I didn't want to wear it, really!"

Seeing that Susan was getting agitated, Suzanne spoke calmly. "Relax. It's okay. Nobody's judging you. You're not to blame for what happens in your dreams. Let it all out. Go with the flow."

"Well, I was cleaning the house in this sexy outfit, like I said. I think I might have been in the kitchen, tidying up. And then Tiger came in. He walked up behind me - without even a hello, mind you - and then ran his hand up my bare ass! And when I mean 'up,' I do mean up! He flipped that little skirt back there all the way up and brazenly ran his hands all over my ass cheeks! He even explored deep into my, well... my rear end, if you must know! That cheeky little... Oh, Suzanne! It was terrible!"

"Susan, let's not cast judgment. Just describe exactly what happened in your dream, as best you can remember."

"Oh, dear. I'm afraid to go on. You see, as he was doing that, he kissed me on my neck and said, 'Hi, Mom. What's cooking?' You know, the kind of thing he'd normally ask me if it's almost dinnertime. Except he was running his hands all over my bare bottom like, well..., like he owned me! And that's not the worst! In fact, that's nothing compared to what he did to me later. Before I even had a chance to reply, he roughly turned me around, pulled my top down so my breasts sprang free, and groped them with his other hand! While he was still fondling my ass, mind you! It made me feel like a piece of meat!"

Suzanne said, "Is that all? Susan, really; that's nothing. Why, in real life I'm sure that kind of thing will be happening to you all the time before long. Tiger's going to need a lot of help from you so his cock can stay big and stiff."

"Suzanne!" Susan protested. "Don't use that word." She was particularly aghast at Suzanne's use of the word "cock."

"Well, that's what it's called. It is a great big cock. And it has needs, big needs. Frankly, I can't be there all the time to help out, or even much of the time. You need to help and encourage him to stay stiff in every way you can so that he can keep up his six-times-a-day quota for cumming after prolonged sexual arousal. Luckily, you have the body of a well-endowed centerfold. It's only natural that he'll be fondling your tits and ass quite a lot. So I don't see why you're so scandalized about that."

Susan's voice turned shy, even as her arousal grew while she contemplated what Suzanne was saying. "Well... Okay... It's not so much that, as what happened next. Far from spanking him, like a prim and proper Christian mother should, I just smiled and let him wantonly grope me. Then I looked him in the eyes and asked him, 'What would you like, Master?' Remember, he'd asked me what was cooking. And that's how I replied! I called him 'Master!'"

"Hmmm," Suzanne muttered while lying there on the floor. She acted like she was seriously considering that "disturbing" development. In fact she was delighted, although she pretended to be dispassionate. "So, you're upset that you called him 'Master?'"

"Yes! Of course!"

"You're thinking that ... if he's the master, that makes you the slave, right? You would essentially be enslaved to your own son. He would be free to do what he wants to with you and your sexy body. Anything he wants. Anything at all!" Suzanne was trying to sound neutral, but she couldn't avoid the excitement that was creeping into her voice.

"Suzanne, we can't talk about that kind of thing! It's just too outrageous!"

"Sure we can. It's just a dream. It's not like it's real life. He could turn you into his sex toy. Nay, even his sex slave! You would be forced to submit and serve, serve his big cock! Is that what's bothering you?"

Susan was suddenly burning up. It was as if her bed and even the sheets on top of her were made of fire. She writhed and wiggled uncontrollably as Suzanne kept on talking. She hated that she was naked under the covers, because that just doubled her arousal, and then doubled it again. She brought a hand down to her pussy as if it really was on fire and covering it could put out the flames. But somehow she wound up masturbating instead. Her other hand drifted to one of her huge boobs, which she fondled as well.

She was so carried away that she almost forgot to reply. But after a long pause, she nearly screamed, "Yes! Of course!"

Suzanne continued in a clinical fashion. "So, you get agitated thinking about Alan being your master. Because if he were your master, forget about his daily treatments. That wouldn't even matter. He could just walk up to you, whip out his powerful cock, and expect you to drop to your knees and suck it! And you would suck it, because that's what sex slave mommies do! You'd probably take your top off first though, if you were wearing any top at all, because a sex slave mommy is probably naked most of the time. And then you'd just smile up at your master, stick out your tongue, and lick!"

"Gaawwwd! Mmmm! Yes!" Susan was practically swimming in place on her bed.

Suzanne still pretended not to notice the obvious signs that Susan was masturbating wildly just feet above her. "'Yes,' what?"

"Yes to everything! And it's like you know my dream, it's like you're psychic, because that's almost exactly what happened!"

"What did happen? Tell me!" Suzanne was getting worked up too, despite her best efforts to sound dispassionate.

"I can't! These thoughts... about masters and slaves... They're beyond the pale!"

"Pshaw! Spill it!" Seeing that she needed to be more persuasive than that, Suzanne added, "Remember, this was just a dream. It has NOTHING to do with reality. So just relax and let it all flow out."

Susan's fingers continued to pump in and out of her slit. She thought she was being secretive about it, but her panting gave her away. "Well, okay. There I was, standing by the sink with Tiger's hands all over me, like some kind of horny octopus!"

Suzanne interrupted. "Were you wearing high heels?"

Susan grumbled. "Probably. In fact, now that I think about it, yes. And I blame you! Lately, you have me wearing high heels all the time, and you're constantly talking about how sexy they are, and how much Tiger will love them. Why is that?"

Suzanne smirked. She loved how her suggestions were taking root. "Let's not get sidetracked. So... Then?"

"Then, the next thing I know... I don't know how it happened, but maybe he gently but firmly pushed my head down from the top. Anyway, before I could really breathe, even, I found myself face to face with his cock! His stiff, long, magnificent cock! Oops. I meant to say 'penis.'"

"No you don't," Suzanne said firmly. "Most men have penises, but Alan has a cock. That's just a fact. Continue."

In her current horny state of mind, Susan couldn't dispute that. "Oh dear. This is so embarrassing. He didn't say anything to me at all! The question of what was for dinner was long forgotten. Obviously, I was expected to hold it, stroke it ... lick it even! Like it was no big deal! Like it was an everyday thing!"

Suzanne said, "Because he's your master. And a slave must obey her master! Always! Every day, all the time!"

"Yes! Oh God! Help me, Jesus!"

"So what did you do?"

"Help me! Dear Lord, please help me! I must admit... I... I... I held it! It was so warm and wonderful in my hands. Like it was radiating love! But also... power! I felt so helpless, kneeling there with my strong son towering over me, my pale breasts exposed... Wearing that humiliating but oh-so-sexy French maid outfit... Oh, Suzanne! It was terrible!"

"Terrible? How?"

"It's just that... I loved it! God forgive me please, but I loved it! I not only held it, but I stroked it!"

"His cock." Suzanne wanted to hear her say it.

"Yes! His cock! I stroked it. Wantonly! And I kissed it! Yes, I'll admit it: I kissed it! And then, before long... Oh, Jesus! This is so embarrassing. I'm such a sinner! The kissing led to, well... licking. Lots of licking! God yes! Mmmm! So much licking! It was like his cock NEEDED to be licked; you know what I mean?"

"I do!" Suzanne was delighted. It seemed that her indoctrination themes were taking root to such a degree that she didn't need to prod much. "I know exactly what you mean, because a strong, masterly cock like Alan's does need to be licked a lot! That's what I keep telling you. Especially with this whole six-times-a-day treatment. Before long, you and I, we're gonna be nude and on our knees licking and sucking his cock every day, ALL THE TIME!"

Susan squealed, "Oh God! Oh God! Breathe! Gotta breathe!" She paused for a bit because she was panting and gasping so much. But while her mouth took a breather, her fingers did not. She couldn't stop masturbating even if she'd tried, because she was just too horny. It was almost as if she were in a dream state where her fantasies about her well-hung son seemed incredibly real, and yet she was awake enough to masturbate vigorously while carrying on a conversation with Suzanne.

Suzanne gave Susan a chance to recover somewhat, because when she was worked up this much, it was overkill to get her worked up even more.

Suzanne was also very tempted to rise up enough to peek over the edge of the bed, but she restrained herself. When she detected Susan's breathing had slowed to merely heavy panting, she said, "Tell me more. So there you were, with your son's great, big, steel-hard cock in your hands. Kissing it. Licking it. Loving it! What happened next?"

"Oh, Suzanne! It was terrible! I forgot all about the love of our Lord, and Judgment Day, and the terrible sin of incest. My mind was addled with debauched thoughts, sexual thoughts! All I could think about was this, this... cock! My son's perfect cock, pulsing with life in my stroking hands! Even worse, somehow, Tiger lost all of his clothes! I don't even remember him taking them off, but dreams are weird like that, I guess."

"So is that all you did? Just kiss it? I'm disappointed in you."

"No." Susan sighed heavily. "Kissing it wasn't enough. Somehow, and I don't even know how, I dreamed that I... I... I managed to fit all of the bulbous end part in my mouth!"

"The cockhead," Suzanne clarified.

"Yes. I mean, I've never done that with Ron, but... somehow in the dream, it was like it was really happening to me! My jaw had to stretch so wide open, it almost was too much to take! But there I was, like some kind of shameless..."

"Slave!" Suzanne helpfully suggested. "A sex slave for your son! A big-titted mommy who sucks her son's cock at the drop of a hat!"

"Yes. Yes! YES! Mmmm! So... wrong! So... yummy!" Susan was tempted to cram four fingers into her mouth to better simulate giving a blowjob. The problem was, she only had two hands, and she couldn't stop fondling her pussy and boobs. In fact, she lamented that she didn't have three hands, if not more, because she needed to fondle both of her great big globes at once, and of course she couldn't stop fondling her pussy to do that. She kept having to switch from one breast to the other under the sheets, because both of her breasts were like hungry babies crying for attention.

Suzanne prodded, "So what happened then?"

"Mmmm! I... I... kept on sucking! Serving... serving my son! Serving his... his cock! With... my mouth! Mmmm! MMMM! So good! YES! ... Mmmm... Till... until... until he, he came!"

Suzanne took mercy on Susan, so she stopped prodding her to say more. It was obvious that Susan was spiraling up to a climax, so Suzanne let her. In fact, Suzanne hadn't planned on touching herself, since she still wore her workout clothes, but this "dream analysis" had gotten her so worked up that she reached under her own clothes to play with her clit.

To her pleasant surprise, she came at almost the exact same moment that Susan did. But her climax was quiet while Susan's was very noisy.

Suzanne was quick to pull her hand from her privates once the deed was done, just in case Susan peered over the edge of the bed at her. She couldn't help but smirk and smile as she pretended to be completely unaware that Susan had just cried out loudly in ecstasy. "So... Susan, I heard you wailing in anguish there. You mustn't get yourself so worked up and upset about this. In fact, I consider a dream like that a good thing."

"A good thing?!" Susan was still panting in recovery. She'd been thinking how she was going to have to explain her obvious orgasm, and was beyond grateful that Suzanne hadn't appeared to recognize what had occurred.

"Yes, a good thing. A very good thing."

"But what about this disturbing submissive attitude I had in the dream? I mean, I even had my hands behind my back like my wrists were bound together, only they weren't! It was just my attitude keeping them that way! My sinful, slavish attitude!"

Suzanne said firmly, "That's fine. Healthy and productive, even. Think about it. Sweetie needs to cum six times a day, at least. And he needs help - a lot of help. From you. From me. From other sexy women, no doubt. The extent of his need is practically boundless, so we can't act all high and mighty about helping his mighty tool. Are you going to take some kind of holier-than-thou attitude, like you're too good to do a sexy striptease for him, or to drop to your knees and stroke his fat cock when he desperately needs your help?"

"Well, no. Not if he's truly desperate, I guess. But Suzanne..."

"No buts! Remember, you have to help with his abnormality checks at the very least. Come Tuesday, you WILL be on your knees with his hot, stiff cock pulsing in your hands!"

Susan clutched at the sheets with a start. "Oh God! God Almighty, I will!" She didn't stop to consider why she'd have to be on her knees to help him, but it was an arousing image for her all the same.

Suzanne pressed, "So what kind of attitude should you take? 'I'm too good to do this, but I'll suffer though it?' Or, 'I'm going to serve my son's perfect cock in any way I can? I'm going to submit to it, and love it and stroke it and lick it to the very best of my ability, so he can have a nice, long buildup and an explosive climax, just like Nurse Akami says he needs to have each and every time?'"

"Well, yes, the latter, I suppose. But... really. I mean... This is all so untoward..."

"Susan! Listen to me. This so-called 'almost nightmare' dream of yours is actually really good news. It shows you're developing a helpful, positive attitude. Did you have any other dreams like that last night?"

Susan sighed. "As a matter of fact, I did. But... they're kind of boring. I mean, they're all kind of like that. Somehow, I always end up stroking or sucking my Tiger's great big cock. There's not much plot, just lots of stroking and sucking. The problem is, you and I have been talking about that kind of thing far too much. I can't get it off my mind. I... I even had another dream with the French maid outfit."

"Okay, tell me about that. And then your other dreams. Let it all out."

"What, like this?" Susan looked down at herself. She was afraid to remain naked under the covers, because she feared that she'd just end up masturbating and cumming again. Although she considered it very fortunate that Suzanne hadn't caught her cumming so loudly, she didn't want to push her luck.

"Of course like that," Suzanne replied, as if any other way was crazy. "Before, you weren't willing to say anything about your dream, yet this way you opened up and told me all about it. You see? These therapeutic techniques really do work."

Susan sighed. She pinned her hands behind her head so they wouldn't wander, but she suspected that they wouldn't stay there for long. "Very well. In this other dream, I was wearing pretty much the same French maid outfit, except this one was even MORE outrageous! I mean, even when I was standing straight, it didn't cover even half my ass! And in front, well, I had to kind of bend over if I didn't want Tiger to see my you-know-what, but that left my breasts hanging out! And I was bending over like that when he walked into the room. And he was naked!"

Needless to say, before Susan was even halfway through describing that dream, she was masturbating again. Suzanne guided the pacing of the discussion so that Susan came just as she finished telling her story.

Susan and Suzanne kept on sharing their dreams like that until they ran out of dreams and both women were completely satiated sexually. When they were done there was a large wet spot in the middle of Susan's bed.

Suzanne's main goal was to get Susan all worked up, and she'd obviously been very successful at that, but a byproduct was that she'd inevitably worked herself up nearly as much. Susan's enthusiasm was infectious and Suzanne got swept up in the passion. As a consequence, both of them had a number of not-so-covert climaxes during this storytelling time.