At first, I seem to be in a doctor's office. There is a nurse, and she seems to be looking at me with great warmth and an indulgent smile. I don't know if I'm dressed or undressed. I just stare at her face.

Now here is this same woman, but she doesn't seem to be in a uniform. We are in bed together. She is holding up a pair of panties for me, asking me to get into them. I must have done this, because I see myself in the panties as I look down. A feminine hand is stroking the front of my panties. The panties are very cute; it is a string bikini that has nothing but lace-covered elastic around the waist and on the legbands. The pouch in front is just big enough to hold me and is almost see-through light pink silk.

I notice the feminine hand has glossy blue nail polish. It can't be me. I do not color my nails like that. I hear the woman's voice saying, "You are so lucky, such a lucky girl. Such a lucky, special girl."

She knows what kind of "special" girl I am, and approves of me! All I can see is myself in the panties. And I hear the voice. The woman is stroking the front of the panties, and I can see that I am becoming wet, and that the wetness is showing through, and now the panties are almost like clear plastic. The panties are wet, revealing me.

"You are lucky to be the way you are," she says. I wonder why she doesn't call me by my name. She says, "We can't really enjoy our panties the way you can." I can't remember all that she said, but it was something like this:

"When we wear our panties, we can feel the silk, but not like you. Because your penis and your testicles can come in contact with them so directly. Your panties hold you and carress you. You have so much flesh that can come in contact with your panties. We don't have that. Especially since our lips kiss cotton."

I didn't understand what this meant at first. But now I realize that my dream was so specific, that this woman was referring to the cotton panel in the crotch of the panties.

As I listen to her, I see her hand stroking me, making me harder and harder and wetter. I wait in expectation for her to do more to me, enviously trailing her fingers over the crotch. I want to wet my panties for her, wet them completely, have the fabric overflow. I want her to see me climax and the way the white oozes through the delicate silk.

She seems to coax me to do it. Her fingers work over me faster and faster, and she whispers things to me, urging me to come. The panties are just the right size, so I am still covered in the delicate silk, even as I become harder and harder.

"I can't come in my panties the way you can," she whispers. I am almost on fire with this woman, with what she says to me! I am not being aroused as a man, or as a woman, but exactly as I am!

"Come in your panties for me," she begs. I worry for a split-second that I won't be able to do this, that I will disappoint this wonderful woman. But as I look down, it is an amazing sight. I wet the panties through, like whipped cream from a nozzle. It just keeps coming out, frothing out of me, foaming over the front of my panties. Frothy cream! I am delighted and surprised. I have never had an orgasm look like this!

Her lips are on mine, she kisses me over and over. I am overwhelmed with her kisses.

Now her lips are on my nipples, feverishly kissing first one and then the other.

"I love your breasts," she sighs. "They are so perfect! I hate having large breasts. They get in the way. You have the perfect body! Your nipples are sensitive. Your breasts are sweet and small. You are so beautiful to me."

I lose my composure and I begin to sob.

I must be crying with joy, to have found this woman.

I want the dream to go on, but my crying has awakened me. At least, I think that is what happened. I touch my hands to my face to see if I'm really crying, but I'm not. I feel like crying, because I want this dream girl to be mine. But I do not cry. I feel I should go put on my favorite panties and preen in front of the mirror and touch myself. But I do not.