dream

… And you weren’t in it. But before you get too disappointed, hear me out.



So, I was outdoors, somewhere in the city. I remember there being a lot of concrete and grassy medians. It was a hot day, but not oppressively hot. And I was walking down the street. I seemed to be looking for someone, but I can’t remember who.



As I was walking, I saw a girl walking toward me. She was small, maybe 5 foot or an inch taller and thin. A tiny little thing, if you will. She was Asian, with long, black hair tied in a simple pony-tail down her back. She was also wearing very little: a bustier-style top and some black leggings. It should’ve looked slutty, but she just looked tasty. She had a little smile on her face as if she knew who I was looking for and where I could find him, but her knowledge had a price.



I wish I could remember the conversation I had, but I remember her always stealthily evading my questions, and I felt frustrated. But she was also removing articles of clothing–both hers and mine–with every answer, as if in penance for being unable to answer me plainly. But all the while, she had that tiny smile on her lips.



When she dropped the last scrap of cloth, I saw that she had small, hard breasts with nipples the color of my favorite hot beverage. The aureoles were goose-pimpled, and the nips themselves were like pebbles, jutting out at me. I dropped to my knees, longing to wrap my tongue around them, and I knew that was exactly what she wanted me to do. Still, I was scared to touch her, so she leaned forward to bring one to my lips. I looked up into her face one last time before I turned my full focus to the task at hand–or, mouth, as it were. I saw her dark brown eyes slip closed, and her tiny lips part as her tongue snaked out to wet them in anticipation. Then, I was concentrating on memorizing the texture of her breast as I wrapped my own lips around it.



Her skin was warm, and she tasted clean with just a hint of soap. But mostly I felt her, her hard nipple as I pulled it softly with my teeth, then flicked it lightly with my tongue. I did, in fact, wrap my tongue around it, and she pressed her body more insistently into mine.



As I switched to her other breast, I grew bolder and put my hands on her slender hips, feeling the bones under my palms. My fingers dug a bit into her soft but firm little ass. I wanted to let her know that I was going to take all of her, not just her little boobs. She gasped at my unspoken declaration but didn’t argue when I began tracing a line with my tongue and lips from her breast, down her belly, to her mound.



She spoke again as I kissed the little patch of hair over her lips, but I was no longer paying attention. As I poked my tongue into her slit, I felt her tremble, and I knew what I needed to do. I picked her up, she was so light, no more than 95 pounds or so, and carried her to one of the grassy medians. I deposited her there on her back, and before she could change her mind, I threw one of her legs over my shoulder and spread her dark pink pussy wide with my thumbs.



Her clit was over-sized, it seemed, compared to her tiny body, and she had very thin lips. When I pulled them apart, I could see into her hole. I plunged my tongue into that hole, and she was so tight! I couldn’t imagine her taking a man with any kind of girth to him as her pussy constricted around my tongue. She tasted of musk and citrus. I was getting so wet, I suddenly realized. The feel and taste of this girl was turning me on the same way the feel and taste of you does. My pussy was beginning to throb with arousal, and I fucked her tight hole with my tongue, drooling and grunting into her flesh as she began to undulate in my hands. Breathy moans escaped her in rhythm with my licking. I ground my clit into her thigh as my juices flowed. I rubbed my tongue and chin into her and lapped from her puckered, dark asshole all the way to her engorged, large clit.



I poked lightly at her ass before turning my attention to that clit, proudly poking from its hood. Just looking at it, my own stood out a little further, reaching for the stimulation her taut thigh was bringing. I wrapped my lips around it and popped it into my mouth, rolling it between my lips and tongue, feeling its slick stiffness and hearing her sighs as they began to pick up speed and urgency. Her hands pulled me tighter in as I began flicking my tongue over its top while still pinching the little nub lightly between my lips. I could feel my own orgasm impending, and I was a little incredulous; there was no way I was going to cum just from feeling and hearing this beautiful girl’s own orgasm, was there?



But there it was, undeniable, as I helped her work up to her own. I pulled her hips even more fiercely into my face and refused to relinquish my prize as my own juices began to flow freely now.



As she bucked into my mouth, I let loose, cumming on her thigh as she shook and shuddered, coating my chin with her fluids.



I wish I could remember the rest. I remember her shouting playfully angry at me, and I picked her up in a fireman’s carry. She giggled and playfully beat my ass with her fists, when I slipped one hand between her cheeks. But that’s all.

Twenty five years on, one can easily see the mistakes made in their youth. But, as the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20. There is little to be gained by rehashing past mistakes in your head again and again, losing sleep over it, and making yourself mental in the process. And yet this is exactly what I did on a regular basis. It’s said that without closure, no relationship is ever truly over. It’s also been written that sometimes closure can come from writing a letter to your ex that you never intend to send. But sometimes closure can come in the form of a dream…



The first time I ever experienced what I would define as a “lucid wet dream” I was certain that I was somehow “quantum leaping” into my past self from the present. I had prepared for bed that night, a middle-aged man in my forties, snuggled in beside my wife. She was pregnant with our fourth child, and sex was something I dimly seemed to recall from nearly a year ago. My wife and I loved one another deeply, but with three kids and one on the way, making time for intimacy and passion is not often possible.



This night, I was horny, and my wife was understandably tired and eight months along, and not in any mood for sex. Although I was excited about becoming a father again in less than a month, I was frustrated. I was horny and riled up with too much sexual energy to just fall asleep. As I lay there, eyes closed, I started to fantasize about my earlier days, back in my late teens, when I was almost as frustrated sexually as I was this evening.



I had a “girlfriend” at that time, and she was insatiable – except when it came to having actual sex. She thought about it constantly, but never acted on it with me or any other living person besides herself. I swear that every minute we spent together in person, I could smell her potent pheromones even over her perfume, and the scent drove me wild with unrequited passion. Every move I’d make to bring my body close enough to hers to make a move, she’d wriggle away from like I had the plague. She was terrified of sexual contact, yet fascinated in the extreme by the idea.



It wasn’t that Ruth was unattracted to me, as we’d talked about sex more times than I could count, but never in a way that lead to physical intimacy. Ruth’s problem, as I saw it, was that she’d learned early on to seek other outlets for her sexual needs. In a nutshell, she was addicted to masturbation. In particular, shared masturbation through fantasy. You can venture a guess as to who was her lucky (or was it unlucky) partner in carnal chit-chat.



Ruth was not one to masturbate alone, at least not entirely. Her way was to call me up at all hours (or I her, it was mutual) and we’d pretend that we were “collaborating” on a writing project. She’d create these characters in her mind that were avatars for herself. Through these virtual personae, Ruth would fantasize about real sexual adventures that she was too terrified to attempt as her real self. And let me tell you, she had a torrid imagination! Many were the nights, and many times per night, that she lit me on fire from my loins to my cerebrum.



When I say we would pretend, that was exactly what we were doing. Never once did we discuss what we were actually doing during these ten and twelve hour marathon phone sessions, and any effort I made to “break down the wall” between the reality of what we were doing and fantasy was quickly side-stepped by her. I’d hint that I was stroking my cock while we talked but she’d act like she didn’t hear me until I said “(insert character name) is stroking his cock.” Somehow she couldn’t commit to the fact that I was a real, live, horny guy her own age who had real needs of my own. And neither could Ruth admit that she was just as horny and just as excited as I was. She could only interact with me sexually when we were both in character.



Often, after several marathon orgasmic escapades, Ruth and I would be so exhausted we’d fall asleep in our beds with the phone still glued to our ears. It was somehow comforting for me to wake up and hear Ruth’s regular, rhythmic breathing over the earpiece. We were sleeping together, in truest fashion – or at least, as true as any virtual relationship could ever be.



It was at times when I would awake, early in the wee hours, and hear Ruth soundly sleeping safe in her bed, that I would tell her just how I felt. I’d whisper softly into her ear that I loved her, had loved her from the moment we first met, and how much I wanted to see our relationship evolve from this – whatever this was – into something real. I know she heard me. I know because her best girlfriend, Lori, confronted me about it one day. She said, “Ruth told me that you said some things last night to her in her sleep” and then go on to say that these things were “very confusing” to her and that I should stop.



My first reaction was to tell Lori to go clean the impulse manifolds in her pajamas. But then I started thinking, and realized that for her to know, Ruth must have told her. And by told her, I mean the whole, sordid mess. Otherwise Lori would wonder why Ruth fell asleep on the phone with me, a guy who was not her “boyfriend” and for whom she had no feelings other than that of friendship.



That gave me hope. It made me realize that Ruth really did care about where our relationship was at present, and where it was headed. It told me also that she was not capable of seeing me in the role of “boyfriend.” In order for me to be her boyfriend meant terminating the special friendship we had, at least in her mind. She couldn’t bear to lose me as a friend. That’s what she eventually told me, when I finally summoned up the courage to tell her outright that I loved her.



Over the decades since, I’ve gone over our strange relationship in my mind thousands of times, trying to figure out just what was really going on. If I’d become a psychiatrist, maybe I’d have a chance at coming to a retroactive diagnosis for what this really was, and a possible solution. But I wasn’t a shrink and those days were far in the past and never to be relived.



In the present, I was happily married, a family man, and had to admit a indulging in a small guilty pleasure that Ruth was not only still single, but still living with her parents to this day. She’d never been able to commit, not to me, or anyone else apparently, and as far as I knew, was probably still a virgin. I often wondered if she looked at me now, with my wife and family, and thought to herself “this could have been my life.”



After all, I had told her I loved her, and she’d said “I’m so sorry!” and hoped to somehow continue our special friendship after that as if nothing had happened. It hadn’t. It ended quite abruptly after a collect call to her one night as I first started college. I didn’t speak to her again for over twenty years, and then only in Facebook chat for a few hours.



Still, to hold a grudge against her on my part, or relish any misfortune upon her past or present was unfair. I would feel guilty whenever I smirked in response to mulling it over in my mind. It was a very sad ending for her, and though she always maintained she was happy and contented, I could never stop wondering how that was truly possible. Not because she’d rejected me. Whether she had been with me or not was immaterial. The fact that she had spinstered herself away in isolation was a fact and I guess from my perspective, I couldn’t comprehend that existence as a fulfilling one.



I admitted to myself that Ruth and I had engaged in some of the most creatively wild sex I’d ever known; a damned shame it was that we never broke free of the “no touch” barriers she’d established for our encounters. I wished, not for the first time, that I could somehow go back in time and knock some sense into my past self, and urge him (me) to just ignore Ruth’s resistance and push ahead, driving her out of her self-imposed safety shell and into the real world of true intimacy. The worst that could have happened was that our friendship ended – in other words, no change from the current reality.



The hour had grown late and my tossing and turning was keeping my wife from sleeping. I was still quite awake and fantasizing about what I’d have done then if I’d had knowledge of the future. I pondered over and over how, even if it were possible, changing the past would obliterate my present. I had no desire to lose my wife or family, and felt bad for even entertaining thoughts of “what if” and fantasies about an ex who wasn’t even an ex! What had happened between Ruth and I was woven into the tapestry of who and what sort of man I was today. I wouldn’t change that for a second.



Yet my mind persisted, wondering what might have been if I’d only realized that Ruth was scared of physical intimacy. She was afraid of losing me as a friend if we didn’t carry our relationship further, and had told me as much when I confessed my feelings of love for her. Ruth had become dependent, almost addicted, to our special brand of friendship with benefits. Did she live in constant fear that I would one day stop being her friend and thus stop providing her with the shelter and convenience of a virtual relationship? Did she ever fully realize that I would have done anything for her, on any level, if only she could love me back in kind? I wondered.



I had determined years ago that the problem was really within me. What Ruth had needed most was for me to take the reins and push her out of her comfort zone and into reality. I know that I would have loved her and cherished her during the first difficult real encounter and long afterward. She had been my first true love, and I loved her still for holding that place in my heart. What Ruth had needed was me to be the man I was today, but back then I was still just a boy with no clue in the universe of how to break the sexual stalemate we’d found ourselves in. We were both virgins trapped in a fantasy, with no concept of how adults dealt with these issues.



At nineteen, I was horrified at the concept of “forcing” myself on anyone, and had no idea that sometimes a man is expected to be sexually aggressive in order to prove his worthiness. Some young males at this age go too far to the other extreme, and think every “no” uttered by a potential mate is really a yes in disguise. I was so worried about coming across as a sexual bully that I played the role of “Mr. Nice Guy” to the hilt, forgetting that it’s often this type of behavior that turns a woman off. Some women prefer their men to show their strength through less-than-sterling behavior. James Bond was a good example, and I knew at the time that Ruth was really turned on by his character. She would frequently ask me to play that role for her in our fantasies, with herself as a demure “Bond woman” being swept off her feet by the suave Mr. Bond and his penchant for hard line charm.



Yet, being young and naïve, I missed this point entirely. Instead of Bond I played the part of protector and defender of her honor, riding in on my white horse to save her from the dastardly “bad boys” she’d invariably flirt with and flee in terror from at their arduous advances. I even went so far as to call up one poor kid and give him the scare of his lifetime by pretending to be Ruth’s father and insisting that he leave my under-aged “daughter” alone. I was not her father, nor her brother, but I was her best friend. And sometimes transitioning from best friend to lover is a difficult step in a relationship. Sometimes one has to risk everything in order to win the girl, and like Ruth, I was terrified of not having her as a friend in my life.



Yet this was exactly what Ruth needed to take the next step in her our sexual growth. She was too scared to become physical with anyone, and through my enabling of her phone fantasies, provided her enough sexual outlet to never try reality for the first time. Though I’d never condone non-consensual sex, the reality was that Ruth had given me her blessing, and had waited (and maybe still waited?) for me or someone to firmly confront her fears and take her by the hand.



By now, I was in a semi-dream state, having reached that strange level of consciousness somewhere between sleeping and waking. This was the moment that I realized I could control my dreams, and that I was in fact being pulled into one as I lingered between states of awareness. I was seeing through my younger-self’s eyes, reliving one of many encounters with Ruth that had almost turned physical decades earlier. Yet I retained my perspective and knowledge of what as to come in my future, which meant that I was effectively time traveling and doing it inside of my own younger-self’s body.



I looked down at myself. I was thin once again, and dressed as I had in the 80′s, much to my embarrassment. I was sitting inside of a car and next to me was Ruth, who was driving. She had the CD player going and was listening to Pink Floyd: The Wall and grinning. She seemed oblivious to the fact that I was looking around in confusion, trying to recall when and where I was. I looked over at her and my heart began to race, as it always did. Ruth was wearing a short black leather skirt and plunge-neck blouse. I could see her legs clear up above her knees and the silky smoothness of her thighs took my breath away. She must have caught me looking because she shifted her legs and for a second I could see up underneath and caught a flash of red. She was wearing red panties.



I sighed and looked down at my lap. My boner was in clear evidence, and though Ruth pretended not to notice, I felt certain that she had. I recalled how much she liked to tease me in those days when we spend time in the “real world” on these not-quite-dates where we’d hang out and drive around and do all sorts of activities. She never referred to me as her “boyfriend” though looking back, she had no other steady male companion, and we were inseparable.



I remembered how jealous I would become when she’d refer to one of her other male friends as “Joey” or “Kevy” (always a diminutive form, never “Joe” or “Kevin” and liked to watch me rage inside as she’d talk about how cute he was. I realized just then, with the knowledge of my decades-older current self that Ruth was not merely trying to get a reaction from me, or even be cruel. She was goading me into action. She wanted me to just grab her and kiss her instead of retreating inside my head like I used to do, wishing that she’d accept that I was her man. After all, I was who she spent her night with every night, even if we were miles apart and connected only by a copper telephone line.



I decided for the moment to just savor the realism of this dream/memory and let it play out as it had, hoping my memory of events hadn’t degraded too much over the decades. Perhaps, since this was just a dream, I could change the outcome, and in this way experience what might have been. I looked at Ruth again and deliberately began to undress her with my eyes, something I dared never let Ruth see in the past. I wanted to see what her reaction might be and to relish the opportunity to remember so clearly what she’d looked like in those days.



Ruth had never been classically beautiful, nor I handsome in that same way. We were truly well suited to one another I could see now, with more than twenty years of additional experience to gauge such things. But while Ruth was a bit plain and would never be a fashion model, her body was amazing to me then and now. She had large breasts, D cups, even at eighteen, and plenty of curves. But what made Ruth so infernally hot to me was the knowledge of just how lusty she was when she let her imagination run wild. I knew even as I looked at her, envisioning her naked before me, that her pussy was wet and throbbing for attention. All she had needed was a man to fill her, and rescue her from her fantasy world. I could have been that man, but I wasn’t then. I could be now.



This was my dream, and I was in control. Whatever I did now would have no effect on my real life in the future, and if I woke up the next morning with cum-stained shorts, so be it. Maybe I’d even write all of this down and post it on the internet for the current-day Ruth to find and read, and maybe we’d finally admit to one another that we both blew it back then. Either that or she’d hate me. I suppose any relationship is better than none at all.



Back in the dream, Ruth had noticed that I was ogling her and despite herself she grinned even wider than before. She arched her back slightly to make her breasts perk up, and even trapped beneath a lacy bra, I could see her pert little nipples were hard from the attention I was showing them. She was really digging the fact that I was fondling her with my eyes! I kicked myself for never having realized that perhaps all she’d needed back then was for me to not be the perfect gentleman my momma had raised me to be in the real world and more of the bad boy that I was in our phone fantasies. What a moron I’d been back then!



Deciding that since things seemed to be going so well with just looking, I snaked a hand up and over and laid it across the car seat on her right shoulder. Ruth shuddered as my hand made contact and I expected her to flinch away as I’d always imagined that she would do, but since this was my dream, she’d reacted the way I’d always wanted instead. And maybe the way she would have back then, too, if I’d only had the balls to try.



I slipped my hand under her blouse and down her back, feeling her warm soft skin against my palm. I’d never felt anything so exquisite and watched as Ruth’s flesh became goose-pimpled from the bare contact of flesh on flesh. Ruth’s lips parted slightly and I thought I’d heard a low whisper of a moan escape as she did so. I grinned, realizing that in this fantasy replay, I could do as I liked and no matter the consequences. I couldn’t make a “wrong” move! That freedom, coupled with my present-day self’s experience and perspective, made this a win-win scenario regardless.



I started to massage Ruth’s shoulder blade and felt her muscle tension melt beneath my fingers. Her breathing had slowed and she was having trouble concentrating on the road. I didn’t recall where we had been headed to on this trip, but it didn’t matter – parking was what we needed to do, and quickly. I decided to try my voice and was surprised to hear how youthful it sounded to me.



“Why don’t we take a break from driving and stop somewhere where we can… relax… for a bit?” I suggested. Ruth nodded, not speaking, and I realized that even if she did, she would say whatever I expected her to say. I started to look around for someplace to park, and then kicked myself for not using my imagination. Suddenly, the car vanished and I found myself looking across the length of an aluminum canoe at Ruth who was stretching and yawning, the sunlight turning her black hair into a halo of light. She surprised me by saying, “I’m tired, going to take a nap,” and closing her eyes.



I tried to remember why this seemed so familiar and recollected that this had actually happened once in reality. Ruth and I had been driving into Washington, DC to rent a canoe for a trip up the Potomac River and back just above Georgetown one summer’s day many years earlier. This was one of our many “undates” and I remembered how it had ended with anger at myself and disappointment, as if it had happened yesterday.



The dream sequence seemed to pause as I remembered how it had happened back then. No sooner than we had paddled into a quiet backwater, Ruth had decided to take a nap. I had thought this strange until I realized that she was going to let herself become “unconscious” in order to allow me a chance to “take advantage of her.” After all, I’d only told her the truth about how I felt the first time when she was sleeping, so this was her way of taking that to the next level. I remember being scared as hell, thinking that if I were wrong about her intentions, she might scream “rape!” and bring the cops paddling over to arrest me. Being a bad boy just wasn’t my style, I guess. Mr. Nice Guy – that was me.

It was still dark outside, but that wasn’t enough to keep the birds from chirping. I rolled over on my side, wrapping my pillow around my head to keep their trilling at bay, but it just wasn’t meant to be. Right on cue my morning hard on sprang into existence, pushing painfully against the mattress. I let out a sleepy groan of annoyance as I rolled over again onto my back, my thoughts too hazy with sleep to notice as something began to slither under the blankets next to me.



Oooh, that feels nice,, I mentally sighed as I began to dream about a pair of soft lips sliding over the head of my cock. The mouth they led to was warm and inviting, my thick shaft sliding in and out as a firm hand began to stroke me with a master’s skill. A supple tongue massaged the head of my member, alternating between long, teasing strokes and short, tempting caresses that left me a quivering mess. I could feel the tension building in my sack as I neared release, my entire body shaking as I let out a warning gasp.



My partner wasn’t through with me, however, and the expert grip shifted ever so slightly to apply an impossible pressure to the base of my cock. All thoughts of orgasm fled as she held me steady, her lips pulled back to the very tip of my crown, poised to spring into action should her efforts prove in vain. It didn’t prove necessary, however, as with one more body wracking surge of pleasure I sagged back into the pillows behind me, still loaded and ready to go. She let go even though I was still painfully hard, but I refused to open my eyes and abandon this dream until I had seen it all the way through to its inevitable conclusion.



There was a rustling sound as the blankets began to move again, then a blast of cold air as they were pulled away from my skin. My penis was suddenly enveloped by a warm, slick paradise, a comfortable weight coming to rest on my hips as my phantom lover slid my full length into her tight cunt. The tips of her hair brushed across my skin as she began to roll her hips, the heat of her hands pressing down on my chest as she began to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm. She slowly covered my body with hers, hard little nipples dragging across mine as she ground against me. She gasped in my ear as her pussy tightened around my cock-



I had heard her gasp as I felt her tighten around me!



My eyes snapped open as that one sound managed to cut through the fog the strange combination of sleep and sex had wrapped around my brain. I found myself staring into the most gorgeous pair of golden brown eyes I had ever seen. Their owner giggled as she realized I was finally awake. She sat up slightly, her long brown hair cascading around our faces as she began to rock faster, having found that one perfect point to drive against me. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” she moaned, but all I could do was stare in shock.



Holy shit!



Summer fucking Glau!



Fucking Summer Glau!



I was!



Holy shit!



I was balls deep in one of, if not the, hottest actresses in Hollywood. The only thing that kept me from blowing my load right then and there was the fact that I was too frozen by shock. If I had known better, if I could have taken it all back and started from the beginning, then I would have acted all cool and sophisticated. Instead I blurted out, “What the hell?!”



She didn’t miss a beat. “What’s wrong?” she asked with a playful little pout. “I thought you liked it when I played Alarm Clock?”



“I-, I-,” I shut up and kissed her, my hand sliding up the back of her neck to pull her into my embrace. She squealed in shock at my sudden rough handedness, but did nothing to protest as I slipped my tongue into her mouth. I might have surprised her, but I definitely didn’t disappoint, and she eagerly returned the favor. Our tongues wrestled back and forth as we each tried to get the upper hand. Neither one was willing to yield so much as an inch, however, leaving me entirely breathless when we finally broke apart.



“You just caught me off guard,” I admitted, my chest heaving. The fact that Summer Glau, of all people, was in my bed (or was I in hers?) meant something very strange was going on. I was just a scrawny suburban kid from Ohio, not exactly the kind of person who seduces Hollywood’s finest. I didn’t want to let on that I knew something was wrong until I had more information to work with.



Ok, that, and my cock was still buried deep in Summer Glau, which was not an experience I wanted over too soon. It might even have been a bit of a priority at that point.



I bent my knees and sat up, pushing her backwards until we were both sitting up straight. The angle was a little weird at that point, forcing me about half out of her. Summer gasped, “Wha-?” as she suddenly found herself pinned between my legs and my chest. I wasn’t done, and used my newfound leverage to flip us over. She shrieked as we tumbled. Though her cry was cut off as I buried myself back in her, my cock going the deepest it had all morning. She had no time to recover before I began to move, my cock pumping in and out as if it were attached to some sort of piston. Summer’s legs locked together behind my back, her nails digging into my flesh as I fucked her mercilessly. Rational thought failed me as I lost myself in her, her panted cries of pleasure, the way her body burned against mine. All I could feel was her, the rest of the world gone in a blinding wave of ecstasy.



Her breath began to come in quick, greedy gasps as her orgasm neared. I knew it wouldn’t be long when her pussy clenched tight, but for me it was already too late. My hips lunged forward, thrusting my penis as deep as it would go, crushing her clit against my body. Her body shook beneath mine as I erupted, one, two, three shots of hot, thick cum blasting into her as she screamed her release. Pure reflex caused me to reach up and try to stifle her shrieks, and it worked, sort of. She stopped screaming all right, but when her teeth sank into the web of flesh between my thumb and forefinger it caused me to scream instead.



“Well, good morning,” she giggled after we took a moment to recover. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but return it with one of my own.



“Good morning to you as well,” I replied, giving her a small kiss. “And thank you. That is one hell of a way to wake up!”



“Glad you enjoyed it,” she said, rolling out of bed. I sat up a little better to watch her walk. Summer moved with a dancer’s grace, an impossible to hide legacy of her ballet training, and I couldn’t help but stare at the hypnotic sway of her ass. A pair of bathrobes, one night blue and the other sunshine yellow, lay pooled together on the floor, and as she bent over to retrieve one it exposed the swollen lips of her sex, still shiny wet from sex. She paused to glance back and giving me a knowing look, wiggling her ass playfully for my benefit.



“Tease!” I mockingly scolded as she tossed the other bathrobe over my head.



“I’m going to head downstairs and see if Mom has started breakfast,” she said as she wrapped herself in the yellow bathrobe. “If you didn’t wake her up with your screaming, that is.”



“Mom?” I squeaked in surprise. Was I related to Summer? That would have put an entirely different spin on things, and I wasn’t sure if it was creepy, kinky, or some combination of the two.



Summer tensed up, looking as hunted as a person who just discovered they’ve been blindly walking through an unmarked mine field. “I’m sorry. I just thought… I mean, the accident was several months ago, and I know it would mean a lot to my mom if you’d call her that as well…”



“No, its ok!” I answered hastily. I’m adopted? My parents are dead? What sort of accident, and why don’t I remember it? “It’s not because of the accident. You just caught me off guard, you know? Between the sleep, the sex, and the show, it just threw me for a bit of a loop.”



Summer raised an eye at my comment. “The show?”



“What can I say, I love to watch you naked,” I answered, giving her my best lecherous leer. “Easily the best show in town.”



“Flatterer,” she accused, climbing on to the bed like a hunting cat about to jump its prey. Her voice became husky as she said, “You know flattery will get you everywhere…including my bedroom tonight.” She kissed me, gently at first, then harder as her tongue began to search for mine. My cock began to harden almost immediately, but she ended it before it could go any further.



“Go get washed up,” she ordered as she slipped back off the bed. “I’ll try to save you a seat at the table.”



“Of course,” I answered, shaking my head as I stood up and slipped on my bathrobe. There was a bit of a spring in my step as I stepped out into the hall, and I didn’t even need to worry about stumbling around trying to find the bathroom. A door stood open at the end of the hallway, exposing a porcelain throne for all to see. I whistled as I turned on the shower and decided to take a peek in the mirror as the water got hot.



Holy Hells, I’m ripped! My jaw dropped as I stared at my reflection. The face, the hair, it was all me — but the body they were sitting on top of looked like something out of a comic book. The scrawny kid from Ohio was gone, replaced by a body that would have made most male models drool with envy — and most female models just drool. I was surprisingly clean shaven, but that was the least confusing thing. This was not my body. Maybe if I spent a year or two working out constantly could I look this fine, but not just from waking up.



I was beginning to wonder if I was still dreaming when the steam began to condense on the mirror. Drops of water began to pour together from the edges, forming a melon sized bubble that stubbornly refused to acknowledge gravity. The bubble shimmered silver for a moment, as if it had been injected with liquid mercury. It began to slowly collapse, the top sinking in as it expanded to a more oval shape, geometric perfection deforming as it began to take on a woman’s face. Color began to bleed through the silver, and I blinked in confusion as I found myself face to face with one pop culture’s most recognizable leading ladies.



“Good morning,” she said, her voice as sweet and smooth as warm honey. “Welcome to your new life. Everyone here, myself included, exist only to serve your pleasures. Indulge your wildest fantasies and your basest desires. For this world is as you write it. May you walk ever in Her light.”



I continued to stare, even as the face began to melt back into the mirror, returning to its original form as nothing more than common water droplets. What the hell was that? I wondered as I climbed into the shower. Do anything I wanted to anyone I wanted? An entire world to play with as my own? Where was all this coming from and why? My mind raced as it tried, and failed, to grapple with the questions it had no answers for. Two things kept nagging at my brain, insisting they were somehow relevant.



Marilyn Monroe has been dead for decades. Why would I pick her?



And who was Her, anyway?

“I was fired… there was nothing else to say about it, no protest that would be listened to anyway. But… it’s my birthday! Even though birthdays were meant to be happy days, and everyone is meant to make it special, my new boss and the man that only six days before had been my boyfriend had just fired me.” I think to myself as I sit on the hot bus thinking about how everything has changed so much in a week. I try to stop my eye from failing me, yet I still feel the burn of tears waiting to drop.



“It had to be him they promoted, not one of the other dickheads in the office, why promote him though? He wasn’t that hard of a worker and he stole everyone else’s ideas.” A single tear runs down my cheek as my thoughts swirl around my brain and I wipe it all away. I laugh slightly at myself, which makes even more droplets trail down my cheeks.



“Well, wasn’t it the cliché, everyone says office romances are a no-no, why did I think of myself any different?” My tears flow freely as I remember all the lies he told to me, my racked breaths pierce the silence. Looking around the bus, I saw one of the cool beautiful suited men that are everywhere around London stare at me… no doubt pitying me.



“Great! Just control yourself; smile, and Mr. Suit will quit looking!” I sternly tell myself before wiping my eyes with the back of my hand



“No doubt this is the time my ‘supposedly everything’ proof mascara stops working.” I groan inwardly, then I smile as brightly as I can in my current mood; all toward Mr. Suit, then turn to stare back out the window.



Thinking of the party tomorrow to distract myself, Lauren, or Lilo as I called her, has been my flatmate since university days had organized it, and decided to invite some ‘hot piece of ass’ from her office for me. I look back around to find Mr. Fucking Suit still looking my way. I turn my glance to him looking over his body and into his warm brown eyes but hoping the message of “fuck off” was loud and clear. It seemed to work as he smiles, catching me off guard and turns to look out his own window. I continue to watch him, finding myself admiring his body before going back to my dilemma. All too soon my bus stop is called, and I get drenched dashing through the summer rain to home, only to be greeted by an excited Lauren.



“Happy 25th Birthday!” She shouts and pops a party popper; string floats around my shoulders.



“I need ice cream, alcohol and sex now! Oh, and before I forget… Martin fired me today, so lots of alcohol.” I quietly tell her before she sits me down and cuddles me the rest of the evening, feeding me ice cream and alcohol until I’m asleep.



“Beep! Beep! Beep!” Rings through my ears as my alarms pierces into my sleeping brain.



“Seven in the morning already, man!” I think to myself, get up out of bed to start a new day of bullshit with idiots at every corner… “No, wait, I got fired. Fuck that!” As I jump back in bed and cover my head in a pillow before drifting off almost instantly, whilst thinking about the party later today.



I feel a body against mine as I wake. Figuring it is Lauren, I roll over onto my back and try to go back to sleep. Lauren’s hand runs down my body, pausing to cup my breast, pinching my nipples a little. In my dream state I arch into her delicious caress. Her lips trace the path down to my stomach before spreading my now wet lips and softly licking my clit.



“Mmmm, now this is the way to spend a birthday!” I murmur as I open my eyes to find, not Lauren’s petite pale hands covering my body, but actually a long fingered black hand that is plucking at my now hard nipples. And it’s him, that is teasing my clit with his tongue and teeth as he rubs two fingers just inside me; not Lauren’s.



“God, he is getting me in all the right places.” I think as I watch his head move between my thighs, I realise I’m running my hands through his hair to grip his head, as he buries his long wet tongue inside my aching pussy, his thumb rubs circles around my clit. He looks up and I realize he looks a bit like Mr. Suit from the bus last night.



“Fuck! He has some amazing oral skills.” I think as I moan into the still silent room. He moves a finger against my virginal ass testing my reaction before pressing the tip forward into my ass. Just as I feel myself build from his intimate caress Mr. Suit moves his head up and looks at me before saying “Joy, Wake up.”



“Huh?” I blink at him completely confused.



“Wake the fuck up, you lazy cow!” His lips move but it’s Lauren’s voice that comes out.



“I can’t even get fricking dream sex these days”, I close my eyes groaning.



“JOY!!” Lauren screams at me again. “Nope, not opening them, I’m going back to Mr. Suit and his amazing tongue.” I think but I hear the door being thrown open, followed by a pause, then Lauren laughing. “Great, what now!”



“What Lauren!” opening my eyes and looking over to her. She continues laughing and points to where I’m laying. It is only then that as I go to sit up that I realize that I’m lying on top of the covers with my boy shorts pushed to the slide with my two fingers still pushed inside my literally dripping pussy.



“FUCK!!” I remove my now well lubed fingers, mental moaning from the loss.



“What it isn’t like you haven’t seen it before.” I laugh whilst waving my dripping fingers at her.



“Not like that, I haven’t!” Lauren replies as she moves to sit on the bed.



“No, I forgot it was your fingers then…” laughing deep down, “…and your tongue.” winking at her.



“Exactly! Saying that it’s hot to see you doing it yourself… Wait? It hasn’t been that long since you last had sex. I know you got some last week because me and Chris heard you!” She always makes me blush when she points out my stunningly loud vocal climaxes.



“Sorry, I do try, honest” I whisper, which honestly only makes her laugh more.



“It’s Okay, this time you just got us both horny, so you could say there were four people climaxing at the same time!”



“Well in that case happy to help.” As I reached giggling for the wet wipes in my draw, Lauren grabs them from my hands.



“I’ll clean you” but she doesn’t get any wipes out she pulls my hand towards her lips.



“Hey, remember, Chris, your sex bomb boyfriend… remember!”



“Please, it’s not like I’m licking from the source is it?”



“Honey, you know it’s not right.”



“Fine… Wait one sec.” Lauren moves out of the room and I move the pad of one my cum covered fingers to my tongue.



“Hey stop that! That is mine!” Lauren says as she catches me just before I taste myself.



Lauren is looking down at her phone again; after a few seconds she shows me the text she has entered on her screen.



“Hi Baby, I’ve just found Joy playing with herself so I’m going to clean her fingers with my mouth quick, and Craig just text me asking if he can grab a lift with you over tonight? Can you text him pretty please? Love you.” As I finish reading she clicks ‘send’.



“He is going to go ape shit at you. You know that right?” I say even as I feel myself getting turned on again.



She doesn’t reply apart from moving her body to sit between my still spread legs. I watch Lauren intensely as she moves my fingers towards her mouth; rubbing the tips along her lips covering them with my cum. Her tongue moves and runs along the cleft between my fingers, collecting cum on her tongue and showing it to me. I’m transported back to our second year at university where we would regularly ‘take care’ of each other needs.



She was the best lover I had ever had. She would come into the room while I was masturbating away all the tension of a day full of classes, and take over. She always started by pressing her fingers inside me, collecting my cum, covering her lips with it before kissing me, making me taste myself on her sweet lips, then covering my erect long nipples and sucking them deep into her mouth.



Even now I move my fingers down my body pressing it inside my longing pussy, remembering how she would tease her tongue inside me, pressing deep inside before licking, sucking, petting gently and annoyingly at my entrance. Soon she had me screaming. Remembering those days, I slipped a finger into my mouth to taste myself, copying Lauren every move as she continues to suck at my fingers.



“Fuck Lilo, you are going to get me even wetter.” I move my fingers out of her mouth, focusing my mind.



“You aren’t the only one.” Lauren winks back at me and we both laugh.



“So are you skipping work just to come and lick my fingers?”



“You need to check the time love, your party starts in two hours and we both need to get ready.” she laughs as my shocked face finally clears.



“Two hours! Why didn’t you wake me up before?” As I jump off the bed and run to the bathroom.



I run into the shower, turning it on and get blasted with the cold water making my nipples hard as rocks and goose bumps cover my body.



“Great not even freezing water will calm me down today. I’m never this horny. It was the dream and then Lauren reminding me of the past with her tongue.” I think to myself, instantly repeating the events that had just happened in the bedroom with my thoughts, “Well, if I’m horny, I might as well do something about it.” I jump out the shower and grab our shower dildo and stick it to the glass wall. I start massaging my shower gel into my aroused body. Starting at my shoulder rubbing the foam over my shoulder and collar bones, arching my neck against my hands. Reminding myself of when Lauren had joined me in shower back in the university. I recall the detail she would pay to my body while she cleansed me.



I move my hands, yet in my mind they are her hands moving down my body making feeling her run the foam down my side, tracing the dip in my waist while kissing my neck. Her hands moving up to cup and squeeze my breast, her hands rubbing the foam over my hard nipples. Now, Mr. Suit is there again, it’s no longer Laurens hands that are playing with my clit, its Mr. Suit. He kneels in front of me, teasing his fingers up and down my slit covering them in the bubbles, making it catch against my small landing strip. The rough pads of his fingers are moving against my hyper sensitized clit; he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder and I grab the shower head.



Lauren now pulls my attention… she helps spread my wet lip with two fingers, rubbing my clit making it raise up to her touch, before Mr. Suit directs the power showerhead blast directly onto my clit, my knee weakens until I lean back against Lauren, feeling her hard nipples press against my back while she grinds her pussy against the curve of my ass. Suit now moves to slide two fingers up to his knuckles inside my moist pussy making me gasp and groan against him. Lauren leaves a trail of kisses down my back as she gropes and spreads my cheeks. I arch forward onto his fingers as her tongue circles my tight asshole. Her fingers dip down between my legs and linking with his fingers prior to pressing inside me, stretching me further, their fingers quickly thrust in and out of me, again… and again.



“Mmmm, I’m going to cum!” I shout over the sound of the hot water splashing my thighs, as my climax closes in. Suit removes his fingers leaving Lauren’s finger inside still rubbing against my sensitive walls. I see my hands rubbing over his shoulders as he sucks my nipple. Lauren moves between us on her knees, latching her mouth on my pussy sucking and bites my clit into her mouth, making me arch around her still thrusting finger and teeth.



“Don’t cum until I’m inside you…” Suit whispers in my ear as his moves behind me. His hands run up my body caressing me, teasing me, making my need grow and grow.



“Fuck! I need to cum now! I don’t know how much longer I can wait…Please!” I beg him to let me come, he doesn’t reply expect for rubbing his cock against my ass as he picks at my nipple. He moves his cock between my legs rubbing it against my wet slit before Lauren slips him into her mouth. I arch my body on his cock moving my swollen lips against his cock, all the while watching Lauren stretch her mouth to take the tip into her mouth. He moves against me and thrusts into Lauren’s mouth pressing more inside her while I stroke her cheek and move my pussy closer to her face with every slide down his cock. I pause briefly as he moves his thumb against my lubed ass, rubbing in circles before pressing inside. Lauren moves to bite my clit into her mouth, distracting me enough to allow his thumb entry.



“Please get into me…” I whimper at him.



“I already am.” As he twists his wrist rotating his thumb deeper into my ass.



“Your cock… I need it.”



“In here?” He presses deeper into my ass. He doesn’t allow me to reply; instead he grips his cock and teases the head into my wet hole making me beg from him inside. My head explodes as I feel him stretching me further with every inch. He bends me over Lauren’s body, grabbing my shoulders and pushing his whole eight inches inside my small pussy. Lauren sucks my clit into her mouth as her finger press deep inside her pussy, she thrusts fast taking my full attention, until Suit starts the slow rhythm of moving almost all his cock out, before slamming me back against him. Lauren bites my clit, pulling it away from my body starting the final build of my orgasm, making my pussy contract around Suits cock. His thumb thrusts completely into my ass, moving it in time with his cock as he picks up the speed. I push Lauren’s hands out the way, thrusting two fingers into her, curling them while whispering into her ear, “Cum, Baby, Cum…” and she does almost instantly visually shaking as my fingers stroke her g-spot.



Suit pulls my body back hard and fast onto his cock. I watch and tremble as Lauren tongue flicks my clit as his balls slap up against her chin. The erotic sight makes me want him deeper and harder, I dig my nails into his hip and thrust quicker, moving onto the tips of my toes, feeling him rub against my g-spot, as I pull Lauren’s hair, pressing my clit hard into her mouth.



“Cum on me…” Suit whispers in my ear; my passion overflows and my ass welcomes his finger moving in and out, I scream out, my climax is convulsing around his cock. My screams of pleasure escape from my mouth over and over again, as he thrusts into me one last time, making me feel every shot of cum coating my bruised cervix. He now pulls his cock out and thrusts it into Lauren’s waiting mouth making her taste both our cums. Seconds later, Laurens mouth goes searching down my pussy, moving to my now stretched hole pressing her tongue deep as my knees start to weaken.



“Good girl.” Were the last words Suit said, but my knees fail… I collapse onto the shower floor.



I waken, alone, a smile still on my face. It feels years later… I notice the dildo is buried in my pussy, then move my weak overheated body back under the spray of the shower, making myself clean all over again.



“That’s better.” I whisper as I run the towel down my satisfied body… all, thanks to the shower head, dildo and of course my imagination. I stand in the bathroom rubbing my vanilla and coco butter scented lotion into my body.



“Joy, are you still in there?” shouts Chris, before softly adding “Nah, it’s alright mate I heard her bedroom door go a minute ago.”



“Wait! Give me a minute.” I say… even as the door opens and there is Chris, with some random bloke staring at my naked lotion covered body.

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