Female Wet Dreams: When I Cum In My Sleep

S. L. Finlay
Apr 11, 2019 · 4 min read

Being away from my love & the most important sex organ

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Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

I had been away from my boyfriend for a few weeks, and it sucked. I was living abroad which was very exciting, but I wanted to share my experience with him and couldn’t do so in quite the way I wanted to. We had skype and phone and messages and emails, but nothing is quite the same as being held by your lover. Or kissed, or stroked. Oh, you get the point.

One night when I went to bed, we chatted on skype before I fell asleep, but it was before we had discovered (read: one or both of us was sexually frustrated enough to bring up that we wanted) skype sexytimes.

The conversation was filled with tension as I told him how I missed him, not just in the missing him sharing in my everyday life stuff, but also the deep longing that was starting to form in my tummy. I talked about how my body seemed to miss him, too, and how it was the strangest thing.

I am poetic (read: a little dramatic) so he was used to hearing this type of thing from me. He just sighed and told me we would see one another soon, that I didn’t need to keep worrying about it. He told me not to worry myself about a thing, that we would be alright. His words rang a little hollow, but I accepted them anyway. What else was I going to do?

When we finished talking that evening, I switched off my laptop and rolled over. We would have the same — or at least, a very similar — conversation tomorrow. I would talk about how I missed him, he would reassure me. I would wonder how it was always me who was this dramatic, then I would fall asleep to thoughts — and dreams — of him. Dreams that were sometimes so vivid that I woke up surprised that I had been asleep at all.

But this particular night was a little different than most. As I slept, my usual dreams where he was always present morphed a bit. He wasn’t just there with me, exploring this new country and culture and taking everything in. He was doing other things, too. He was holding my hand, then stroking my forearm. Then he was kissing my neck. Then, well, things happened. Things that I had been dying to feel happened in the safety of my head — in the safety of my dreams.

And my body reacted how it normally reacted when we did those things together.

I woke up mid-orgasm, my body shuddering with the release and my eyes flew open. What the hell? Did this happen to girls? Apparently so.

Going forward, I had several other orgasms this way while we were a couple who weren’t physically together, then I never had another one quite the same way again.

Men complain about their nocturnal emissions for good reason. They skew towards something that happens to them in puberty when their bodies already feel alien to them in what has to be the most awkward time in their existence. I miss my girly wet dreams though. Orgasms I didn’t have to work for or concentrate on to make them happen, they just happened and I woke up feeling the joy of a sexual release. Natures alarm clock had my interest right from the start.

Although there are plenty of reasons why these can happen, many of them still not explored by science — which skews towards studying male bodies and male sexuality — my answer for why I had wet dreams is pretty simple: I wasn’t getting what I needed. By that I mean yes, physically, in that I wasn’t having the number of orgasms I wanted to have with the person I wanted to share them with. I also wasn’t getting the other types of intimacy I so craved, either because my partner was so far away. Something as simple as getting a hug after a hard day can be something people who live together or live close by can take for granted, but it was something I craved so much it sometimes physically ached.

I wanted to be close to my love, to be connected to him. My body and brain were manufacturing a way for me to have those two things, even if only in my sleep.

How clever our bodies and brains are to give us the things we need right when we need them. Further proof that yes, your brain is your most important sex organ.

Aha! Intimate

If Carrie Bradshaw were a millenial (and kinky!)

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S. L. Finlay

Written by

S. L. Finlay is an Australian author with an idea problem. Not all of her ideas fit into her books, so she fills medium with them instead.

Aha! Intimate

Romance and erotica author S. L. Finlay’s sex and relationships column with a focus on lessons learned from a life spent exploring conventional and unconventional relationships on and off the page.

S. L. Finlay

Written by

S. L. Finlay is an Australian author with an idea problem. Not all of her ideas fit into her books, so she fills medium with them instead.

Aha! Intimate

Romance and erotica author S. L. Finlay’s sex and relationships column with a focus on lessons learned from a life spent exploring conventional and unconventional relationships on and off the page.

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