I dream of cheating.

Last night, my dreams gave me what my real life will not.

I got my pussy filled twice in quick succession by two different men. The first was nameless, faceless, and he fucked me hard from behind, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. I sent him out the back door as I saw the second coming down the street. Number two was almost a decade younger than I, a well-hung, boyish-faced and hot-bodied graduate I had a BDSM-tinged one night stand with four years ago. He threw me down on the edge of the bed, held my feet over his shoulders and pumped his cock into my cunt, sloppy with the first man's come. He put his hand round my throat and bit his lip, watching his cock disappear and reappear. He slapped my tit and called me a delicious little slut as he shot his come into me. I smiled, delirious with being desired. V was due home at 5.15pm - I remember very precisely - and the danger of discovery added a frisson. I jettisoned my second into the street a few seconds before V put his key in the lock. I welcomed him, flushed and smug, half-hoping for discovery and a realisation that his neglected woman was indeed wanton and wanted by someone, if not by him.

Next, a public toilet somewhere, kissing a petite woman with short blonde hair. She perched on the lid and I straddled her awkwardly, scooching her body forwards till our pussies could meet. I ground my pussy down on hers till my legs ached and I felt like I was going to fall over. Her trimmed pubic hair felt rough and rubbed delightfully against my open, delicate skin, but neither of us could get enough purchase to send us over the falls.

Then, briefly in the moments before waking, another woman, lying on her back. I did not see her face, I only saw the pussy open before my face. It looked red, inflamed and almost angry, not at all similar to mine in tone or texture. Shiny wetness spread over it and onto the tops of her thighs. I was excited and nervous, anxious to please, but confused as to what to do. I flattened my tongue and worked it on her clit like an eraser. She seemed quiet, still and bored, though she was very wet and her clit was hard. A lightbulb moment! I slid two fingers into her, pads up, and beckoned "come hither", hoping to find her G-spot. She squirmed and yelped, jumping her hips upwards. I wondered how I would know if she'd come, or if she was about to. My tongue ached, but so did my pussy.

I was already semi-awake when my alarm sounded midway through the scene. V having left already, I reached for a trusty toy to make the most of those precious few minutes when you're half awake, half asleep, and dreams feel real. I hadn't come in any of my dream encounters. I did shortly afterwards. So did my lady friend.

I'm in a state of constant arousal at the moment. I am masturbating three or four times a day, minimum. I need to go again, just writing this. No matter how much I wash my hands, they still have that distinctive musky scent. Out, damned spot! I can smell my own cunt through my jeans, out in public. I am sure others can tell.

V is not relenting. It's been almost three weeks. Last night, half asleep and sick, he grudgingly agreed to a quickie, but I'd rather have nothing than his charity fuck. What am I to do? My need to be the object of real lust is becoming ever stronger.

I have been sniffing around the "casual relationships" section of our local Craigslist equivalent, mainly checking out girls - for some reason this seems physically safer, less like cheating, and less risky in terms of meeting someone who'll judge my body negatively or to whom I won't be attracted.

I have clicked "reply" then panicked and closed the browser many times. I know that once I pop, I can't stop, and I'll get addicted to the thrill. But oh, I want that thrill.

I am a disgrace for even considering peeling the lid off this Pandora's box.