Chantilly was a good girl. She wasn’t the kind of girl you’d find regularly peeping through her sheer curtains across through the neighbors window fighting to not shove her small hands down her small pink panties that stretched across her plump ass. She wasn’t the kind of girl that would be viciously trying to pleasure herself to the neighbors form every Thursday at exactly eight-o’clock. Chantilly wasn’t the kind of girl that fantasized about the faceless form ploughing his every inch into her tight passage. No, Chantilly was certainly not any of these things.
Yet here she was, doing exactly that.
It had started months ago, on the first night. She was up late working on her computer when she peered out her window and caught the silhouette of her neighbor undressing himself. The shadow beyond the yellow curtains slid off the pants that constricted his large member. Then came the underpants that caused the erection pop out. The form almost studied it for a moment before getting started, pleasuring himself. Chantilly watched in wonder, in helplessness. She found herself very aroused and shortly went to bed that night very confused.
It was the first night she had that dream. It was the dream where she was being fucked senselessly in every possible position that would allow her not to see his face. It was the dream he ploughed her until she was sore, orgasm till it hurt, and even then didn’t stop. He had blind-folded her and forced every inch of cock down her throat till she gagged, he made her swallow every drop of cum that shot from the swollen head of his dick. She loved it. However, when he was about to make it possible to see him, she woke up. Chantilly woke up nervous, aroused, and very confused.
Because what did sensible girls like herself do having dreams like that.