For some reason, I always like to read accounts of people’s sex dreams, perhaps because the filters that kick in when we consciously create fantasies in erotic fiction aren’t present in dreams. From Provocative Persiflage, we hear about the dream of twelve tushes:

The Tale of Twelve Tushes

All lined up in a row.

This was my dream the other night.

The room was dark and mahogany paneled. The light from the wall sconces was enough to illuminate their flesh but cast a glow rather than a glare on the 12 perfect asses raised, waiting.

I was wearing a strap on harness, a large, very life-like dildo protruding from my hips, and standing behind the girls. (Well, women really, all were of age but since it was a dream, the ages were sketchy at best.)

J was in front of them, his hard cock perilously close to their mouths.

We moved down the line. I fucked each one fluidly as they sucked his cock. When I was finished with one I signaled to him and we moved to the next girl. Their greedy pussies begged for more as I thrust in and out. They were all perched on the perfect height “table” and we both move fluidly from one to the next. I recall we were having a grand time.

All 14 of us.