DREAMS TO COME

by Mister E

Email feedback to: mmisteree@gmail.com
Able to control the direction of his dreams, the women inside of David’s sleeping mind can’t resist him. The question is: Just how real can dreams become? mc md mf ff ma

Chapter One — Lucid In The Skies
“Uh-oh, here come the boobs.” Yes indeed, and I’m certain that I am in love. Not real love — I know that I don’t have a clue what that’s all about. No, this is just well deserved anatomical love, Gina Marie Hurt style. Her school sweater stands out — way out — a firmly bound bundle of boobage jutting and strutting through the glass doors of The Pizza Escape. She’s flanked by two lesser lovelies and they’re a noisy group, chirping into cell phones with their sneakers squeaking on the freshly mopped floor. But it’s the grandly overstretched sweater on a trim cheerleader frame that draws the eyes of every patron in the joint. I watch longingly as tanned legs and a mile of cleavage pour into a neighboring booth, and I understand why some guys jokingly add an “s” onto Gina Marie’s last name. Just looking at that girl hurts. “Reel in the tongue before I put a fork through it,” I hear, reluctantly tearing my gaze away and back to Sophie, sitting directly across from me. “There are hot toppings right in front of you, idiot,” she admonishes, biting aggressively into a slice of our pizza. I think that I hear a certain kind of reproach in her tone, the kind that a guy might expect from his girlfriend. Only Sophie is not my girlfriend, yet. I want her to be, but until then she has no business writing out a parking ticket for my eyeballs. Which, admittedly, keep sneaking back to the remarkable rack bouncing around at the other table. I confess that I’ve been obsessed with Gina Marie’s knockers since they first began to knock-knock in middle school. When a girl like Gina Marie turns into a girl like Gina Marie, she becomes elemental, and some part of you recognizes that it needs her. The trouble, of course, is that this vital need is hopelessly onesided. Gina Marie and I were and still are next-door neighbors — some of my earliest memories involve having fun with her as sandbox playmates in pre-school. Now that she looks like one — an especially busty Playmate, all airbrush smooth with the glowing blonde hair and taut body — she treats me like I belong to a different species, a less evolved one subject to misfortunes unknown to the hot and the beautiful. I have my new digital camera resting on the table, and I turn the flash off, pointing it at Gina Marie to take a stealth photo. The light is low and the lens is wide-angled, so if her boobs even show up in focus, they'll probably appear far away, elusive — exactly how I experience them in real life. “Pervert," Sophie admonishes, placing the palm of her hand in front of the lens. "Stop dreaming, boobbrain. You wouldn’t even know what to do with those things.”

Hah, and again I hear that hint of possessiveness in Sophie’s voice. I’m about to point this out to her, but then I look at her, and I mean I really look at her, and what she said a minute ago about hot toppings takes on a whole new meaning. My friend, Sophie Moran, is also wearing a sweater, and there are substantial shapes beneath the wool that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago. Sophie is what you’d call a late bloomer — she’s never going to bring anything like Gina Marie’s proportions to the table, but still… She’s got a wonderful body overall, topped off with green eyes and the kind of full lips that drive me wild. And dimples. On a really cute girl there’s no defense against them, and Sophie’s are so deep that they turn the simplest of smiles into a heartconquering weapon. “You know, I think you’re just as good-looking as Gina Marie,” I say before I can stop myself. “Oh, right,” she smiles crookedly, the dimples dancing. “And these mushrooms on our pizza didn’t come from a can.” I’ve always loved Sophie’s self-deprecating sense of humor. The thing is, I really don’t think she knows how lovely she’s become, which is kind of cool. I wonder for an instant why we’ve never done the wetlands wiggle with each other’s private parts… Oh, right — we haven’t done it because she keeps turning me down. I’ve had pup-tent jeans and hot, frisky hands several times with Sophie, and she proved quite capable at parrying my groping fingers. The last time I tried to make a move on her in my car she nearly broke my right index finger. I keep my hands to myself these days, though they still do all kinds of shit to her body in the privacy of my mind. “The ‘privacy of your mind?’” Sophie asks out of nowhere. “You think that even exists?” “Huh? How did…” “Do you hear that?” Sophie asks, lifting her head. The question seems strange for some reason. I do hear something — a regularly pulsing whine, which I brush off as some sort of oven alert for the pizza guys. “No, it has nothing to do with pizza. It’s something else,” Sophie comments, taking my hand. “How did you know what I was thinking?” “Listen, David. Listen carefully. Aren’t you supposed to pay attention to this?” I listen more closely. She’s right, and for some reason the hair on my arms sticks straight up. I’ve heard this sound before, and I know, almost instinctively, that it has unique importance. This sound is trying to tell me something. It’s just a repeating soft whine, steady and monotonous… “I’m dreaming!” I exclaim. “This is all a dream!” It’s true. Energy courses all through my body from the force of the realization. My body — I didn’t even have a body, not here. My body is sound asleep in the present time, having a dream that I’m a teen-ager again. The pulsing whine is coming from the alert device within the research facility’s sleep environment, doing its job to signal me that I’m asleep, so that I can take control of my dream.

Nothing here is real — this pizza joint, Sophie herself at age sixteen, Gina Marie and her grandiose gazongas — they’re all a remarkably accurate memory, almost an exact replay of the way it was one particular night almost eight years ago. I can remember that Sophie and I left this place and drove around the countryside by silvery moonlight, parking for a time and skipping stones on the tranquil surface of a little estuary, talking about classes, and friends, and the future. Once it had closed for the night, we snuck into the diner that Sophie’s parents ran, getting tipsy on pilfered beer from the tap. There had been some close slow dancing to jukebox tunes with the sound turned low, and one of Sophie’s hands creeping down from my waist, eventually venturing to squeeze my erection. I remember her heated sigh, and the way she collapsed onto one of the swivel stools, leaning back against the counter with her lips all wet and sultry. I got my hands under her shirt that night, without them being swatted away. I rolled her nipples and she encouraged me to go further, lifting her shirt and removing her bra to reveal two perfect young breasts with nipples as hard as bullets. She groaned when my tongue explored the entirety of her right breast, and I could smell the excitement rising up from her tight jeans. I got the button and zipper open, slipping my fingers down to feel the texture of her soft pubic hairs. My middle finger touched wetness, a slippery furnace heating the both of us to near bursting… But that was where Sophie drew the line. With a hard push from her legs she swiveled so that her back was to me, and pleaded for me to leave before her parents discovered us, and we did something we’d both regret. I’ve regretted it all right. I protested, and she whispered that we’d find another moment, our moment, the right time and a private place. Only that moment never came. Sophie cared for me; I hadn’t imagined that. And she’d wanted me, her pussy wet and aching. She just hadn’t been aching enough. “David?” her dream-self says now, an odd kind of awareness illuminating her features. “Something’s… different. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.” “No, it isn’t,” I agree, my voice thick with all the things that never happened between us. “And what you’re going to do isn’t the way we wanted it to be, either. You’re… I stop, because I was going to say “your dad”, telling her what she shouldn’t know. This isn’t really Sophie, and the events have already happened, long ago. I know that her life went on after the grief — even so, I can’t bring myself to say that her dad is going to drown in the Chesapeake Bay only three days from this night. “You’re going to do some things you can’t even imagine,” is all I say. “You speak like you know the future, and I don’t, ” Sophie replies, eyeing me oddly. “You think events are set in stone, don't you?” I do, and much of the future sucks. “You’re going to spend most of next summer in Italy,” I decide to inform her, omitting the main reason that her world and her plans get turned upside-down. “You meet an older guy named Leonardo over there, and you carry on a long distance relationship that frustrates the both of you. By the time you come to your senses you’re in college at Stanford. You end up marrying an economics major in your senior year, although that’s headed for divorce.” She laughs. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

but that means that I’m somehow in two places at the same time. roughly grabbing the flesh around my mouth. Or three places. or am I more like pure thought? I raise my hands in front of my face — I have hands and a face — then interlock my fingers and crack my knuckles. the overhead lights make wavering reflections on the greasy sheen of mozzarella cheese. I pick up a slice of the pizza next. I search for an area of vagueness. Remembering the guidelines. hard. some glossed-over abbreviation that must exist in a dream reality. “Congratulations!” Sophie exclaims. Not because I’m free of gravity’s pull — there is no gravity here. “Sophie? Pinch me. willing myself to levitate into the air. lying in the sleeping chamber of the lab. by the time she graduates. even though I’m up here. This is one hell of a detailed dream. but I’m being silly. “David… it’s true that you’re dreaming. I try to get a sense of my form up here — do I have a body. Though the indications are already there. scrutinizing the details of her face the way a farmer might observe planted soil. without question. In an instant I’m sitting cross-legged with my head brushing the ceiling. and she has eyelashes. “Don’t sell me short. asking someone from this world to confirm the dream reality.” . I stare back down at her. No. I’m certain that this is all a dream. but I can’t find one anywhere. I would swear that I’m awake. sitting across from Sophie. I think. It sure seems like I have a body. with mouth-watering smells and graphic textures. I’ve studied a checklist of lucid-dreaming situations.” “Why?” “Pinch my cheek. the very thing we’ve been striving for — there should be few limits to what I can do. looking for the blossoming that I know will come. what’s unexpected is that my body is still down there.I always adored that vertical line right there between her eyebrows when she laughs. and totally convincing. “I could be more than you realize. but splitting into two dream-Davids was never covered in my training. if you count my real self. even pores.” she says. she has no clue that she’ll be the loveliest girl in our school. But that means I’m… what?” Not real. Her fine hair looks exactly like hair. Now that I’m consciously aware of my state within the dream — lucid-dreaming. so it shouldn’t hurt. and more complex highlights on the texture of the mushrooms and pepperoni slices. and there is a hierarchy of experiments for testing the boundaries of what is possible. staring up. Tilting the slice this way and that. I lean forward. And the devastating dimples. Curious. amazed. my God. Essentially what I’m reading as Sophie is nothing more than a memory. that everything here is real. I concentrate.” She rolls her eyes but does as I ask by reaching out. It’s all there. feeling its warmth on my hand. The detail in this dream is amazing. “Owww!” “What did you expect?” I’m not sure.

I move in close. I hesitate. Deep space. I have to laugh. but for the moment they’re totally unreachable. but not all that interesting. and here in the dream. It’s a satellite of some kind. of no use to me until I wake up. but the poor dream character sure seems to feel it. I feel the stars beckon. probably measuring my every thought or effort. I’m supposed to think myself to an office in Singapore next. I’m not afraid. Out into space. to be split in two inside of a dream? Is it safe to leave my other self sitting there unattended? They. wearing a ski jacket over his sport coat. are out there in the real world. This is some great dream detail. and I notice packing boxes stacked high along one wall. I decide. It’s a colorless office with morning light streaming through tall windows. some glint of light catches my eye. it’s the lights of Osprey Flats beneath me. Interestingly. but he doesn’t seem to hear me or see me. and I see a dark-haired young man sitting in front of a computer. With the speed of thought I’m there. and everybody knows what that’s like these days. where my actual body is. so the lack of heat isn’t real. I picture it in my mind and I’m suddenly there. aiming upwards. not Singapore. Perth. which make it difficult for him to type properly on his keyboard. instantaneously flying further away. I apologize for the cold. which is different than in the photos they showed me. It’s cold in here. Australia is next on the list. I guess because it’s Australia. What I feel is more like a sudden lusting for freedom. I make what . inside a second dream-body while my other one must still be in The Pizza Escape. as though swimming in water. I’m in unknown terrain in here. They’re with me in a sense. It would only be a dream representation of the place. I think about flying high into the atmosphere. and I roll onto my back to rest on top of it the way a cartoon character might do. because this is like conversing with a phantom. Is this normal. believing that the invisible resistance is only an illusion within an illusion. Also gloves. I wonder if I’ll have difficulty breathing.C. easy as pie. even so. with something as impossible as flying requiring no more effort than thinking it into being. the experts with all the answers. a real place that I’ve only seen in photographs. trying to push against a powerful current flowing in the opposite direction. feeling the earth receding behind. I don’t think myself there. Hoping — no. because it’s all so effortless. and not halfway between Baltimore and Washington D. The team wants to know if I can will myself to various locations on the globe — the first destination is supposed to be a particular office in London. Again I make it happen in a flash. monitoring my real body with all their fancy instruments. and there are things I need to do. Rather than transporting to Australia as they wish. and I aim in that direction. The winds shove a big cloud in my direction. the curved horizon glowing blue much like nighttime footage I’ve seen from shuttle missions. but without broad wings to absorb solar energy for power. When I return my head to front. why shouldn’t I be able to will myself halfway across the universe? Only it isn’t easy any more. I’ve always been fascinated with Hubble telescope photographs of nebulae and colliding galaxies. and the room is totally empty. hovering in the nighttime sky with billowy clouds down below. or leaving the earth altogether. It’s sweaty hot here. pushing the limits. not space. looking back to see the earth in semi-shadow. which doesn't even exist in real life anymore. I pause once.. It’s my dream. not the real world where my body sleeps. and see markings that I take to be Chinese. It surprises me to see that I’ve begun to stroke with my arms and legs. but of course there is no need for air. I’m looking down at my high school world where the dream began.I ignore her.

I always assumed that I could do almost anything that came to mind within the dream world. and forward just a little. hovering in place. rather than be a dog? If I can affect the actions of others in a dream. I drift a bit lower. This is unsettling — can a dream character have an independent life and just walk out of my dream? I concentrate. because already she deserves her own website. I pause. But using their example. and dream-gawk. this time thinking the thought more clearly. Supposedly. Galloping gigaboobs would you look at those things! Like me. Show-off the magnificence of your tits to everybody. Gina Marie is only sixteen in this dream. but how perfect that a vixen like Gina Marie Hurt would appear in a lucid dream. I wonder why. or me — sat there motionless. carry on at their table just as before. recalling what I’ve been told about my abilities. flagging concentration transcribed through my brain to feel like a physical effort. Certain parameters are set by the subconscious mind. I repeat. muscles tiring. I become exhausted. how do I go about doing that? . and she got even bigger than this by the end of high school. willing myself forward. sweating. and how to go about making things happen. My cock grows hard as can be — that certainly feels real enough in this unreal world. I’m supposed to be able to go wherever I want. thereby affecting the actions of others. like a puppet with no animating hand inside. I’m trembling.begins to register as a superhuman effort. Carrying on a conversation. It has to be an effort of will that I’m feeling. but I can choose my own actions within this world. just blinking things differently. Fuck — this my dream. and sense that I’m about to be yanked sternly back to earth. so why not grab what I always wanted to grab? I’d never give myself the permission — or have the courage — to do what I have in mind in real life. The other version of myself is still sitting in the booth below. or stuffing pizza into its face? From all signs it — or he. or my mother into my sister. and also wonder what my other self has been doing during my high-flying absence. seemingly unaware that a detached dream-me is hovering above. to show off her huge breasts to everyone in the joint. or largely in control. right over her head. Or. as I’ve seen. In the lucid state. Only nothing happens. The possibility of dream sex was never discussed during my preparations. Upon hearing that. A dream-me with a spectacular birds-eye view right down Gina Marie’s straining blouse. I can’t change the VW into an ocean liner. I focus on Gina Marie. it’s completely ineffectual. I don’t have any actual muscles. though still hovering near the ceiling. Total overkill. but Sophie is gone. but she doesn’t appear. but here in a dream it would be an absolute crime to let a chance like this slip away. and no one is gawking at my floating form. There are no repercussions to behaving badly in a place that doesn’t exist. and I should be able to make anybody do anything I wish. refusing to surrender. my heart straining. and within seconds I’m somehow back in The Pizza Escape. Gina Marie and her friends. Enough! I concede. willing her back into the scene. There are limits — the example they gave involved me driving a Volkswagon Beetle with my mother in the passenger seat. and will her into pulling off her sweater and shirt. Nevertheless. Again. I feel my physicality in a new way. I can suddenly transport myself to a dream-London. I remind myself — but fuck. for instance. or wherever. bending the narrative in a desired direction. or a dog — I'm not like a magician or a witch. and she’d have one of the most spectacular natural racks around. isn’t it? I’m in control. what if I wanted to make my mother in the VW bark like a dog. A quick scan of the room reveals no other missing or lifeless patrons. or a dreamSingapore.

You want to be near him. I shout out a series of expletives in frustration. Suck on Nicole’s nipples. I find it completely weird that I’ve awakened in bed. No dice. The girl to Gina Marie’s left — I think her name is/was Nicole Dampley — is another cheerleader.Acknowledging that I know little about manipulating the actors upon this dream stage. It’s late at night and I’ve awakened from sleep. but I feel like I’m on the right track. “You’re so excited that you feel like you’ll die of lust if you don’t get my hands squeezing your tits! Lust. so I focus on Gina Marie. Why didn’t they tell me that everything might be so complicated. goddammit! Overwhelming lust. I go in another direction. My dream-dick strains like I’m the one about to die of lust… But again. just like the freezing guy in London. You need to fuck him. her eyes glazing with a hunger like she’s never known. rather than orders. I aim. building and building until you can’t stand it any more!” No reaction. even though I’m really still asleep in current time — that makes the last dream with Sophie and Gina Marie a dream within a dream. I look around. and I can’t pull her outside of it. I shout out what I want as if sheer volume will succeed where all else has failed: “You desperately need to fuck me!” I bellow. but I get the sense that I’ve just sprinkled fairy dust into the atmosphere of my dream. and discover the parameters for . Gina Marie is stuck in dream-time. Hovering there almost in her face. rather than implanting the motivations that would cause them to do what I wish. I think for a moment — maybe I’m going at this all wrong. you realize that you’re falling for David Sand. restless with a hardened dick. “You’re dying to get Nicole’s nipples in your mouth!” I tack. aiming feelings into her. as a teen-ager. I expect Gina Marie to look up at me. nothing. “You‘re desperate to eat her pussy. I beam at her. getting right in Gina Marie’s face. and layered? Why didn’t they give me a fucking roadmap? If there are rules to working within this fanciful environment — and there must be. If I can’t get Gina Marie to react to me. It’s hard to describe. but being blocked gets to me and I throw something like a dream tantrum. or perhaps look over at the other me. in my parents’ house in Osprey Flats. maybe I can watch her play with someone else. since some things work and others don’t — then I’m going to have to continue to experiment. or the sleeping chamber inside the research facility. because my training was obviously so inadequate. one more thing that they neglected to prepare me for. by trying to move these people like puppets. You want to fuck him. It’s a testable theory. Wrap your lips around Nicole’s nipples and stroke her pussy with your fingers. also with impressive tits. Out of nowhere. do you hear me?” That last question reverberates in my mind and maybe in my ears as I suddenly wake up in my bedroom. I’m not quick-tempered by nature. making myself insanely horny for nothing. and it’s obvious that no one hears them. no response. completely disoriented. It’s like I’m a ghost here — an invisible and completely ineffectual ghost. What happened to The Pizza Escape and Gina Marie? And this isn’t even my current bedroom in my current apartment. It sort of pisses me off. I can’t see anything changing. It’s the room I lived in back then.

what incredible detail for a false world. It’s so different than in the city. and my first impulse is to fly over there to make another attempt at manipulating her behavior. These aren’t my real parents. I’m not sure what to do. I feel the cool carpet of grass pressing into my bare feet. obviously braless. knowing that none of this is real. “I can’t sleep. but through my open window comes the rhythmic chirping of crickets. and how icy their relationship will become as their marriage unravels. Overhead porch light illuminates the flimsy negligee adorning her body. and it’s doubly true now. and I can’t resist peeking in on my parents. the dream got yanked from under my feet. David. sleeping soundly in their bed. There are no crickets — it’s the alert device again. whereas she didn’t seem capable of detecting my presence before. Here in this dream world it’s like it was back then. Again. It’s completely quiet in the house. Below. the glow of streetlights shining on the tops of parked cars. thinking that I might try to fly into outer space again. the sharing of human warmth. instead of those epic ones. helping me to realize that I’m dreaming. I never realized until now how much I miss the gentle whir of insects. There’s nothing I could do for them then. I remind myself. so I get out of bed and slip on the pair of summer shorts lying on the floor. When I step off the sidewalk. where the hum of traffic and shouts from drunken bar-goers punctuate the night. I hear a sound to my left. She’s seeking out a conversation with me. I’m struck afresh by the fact that she would be a knockout even if she had regular-girl tits. instinctively seeking solace in the joining of bodies.” she says. at least two months later in the season than the earlier dream.” I answer truthfully. because my actual parents are separated now. and it surprises me that it feels so real and so comforting. all soft and damp with the scent of freshly mowed grass wafting in the midnight breeze. or if I might really wake up in the research lab. and it kind of gets to me. because I’m already self-aware. her voice just loud enough to be heard. The leaves of the oak trees lining the block tremble as dark clouds skim across the moon. and see Gina Marie step out onto the front porch of her parents’ house. Closing the door on that part of the past.” she interrupts my indecisive thoughts. I have no need for it this time. Gina Marie is as close to naked as a girl can be without actually being naked.myself. I hear my father’s low and steady snoring. It’s a warm summer night. surprisingly loud. Out in the upstairs hallway. her legs are cheerleader sleek right down to her bare feet. “What’s that supposed to mean?” . “Oh. with no hope of ever getting back together. I wait a few moments to see if the dream is going to shift again. noticing that I’m there. I see their bodies merged into one twoheaded mass under the covers. her astounding curves semi-revealed in highlight and shadow. which never would have happened in real life. I ease down the stairs and out into the front yard. and my unconscious mind has an impressive talent for bringing it all back to life. They have no idea how quickly that will change. and other soothing sounds from my youth. pushing at the thin fabric. This is different. It appears that my dream self is staying here for a bit. I listen to the steady repeating chirping of crickets… And then laugh. because the last time I did that. I always loved the warm summer nights back then. though — she’s looking right at me. Even from this distance I can make out the punctuations at the front of her gown — Gina Maries nipples. the two of them holding tight to each other. “I’m asleep right now. I hesitate.

her face is in shadow and it’s hard to read her emotional state. casting rounded shadows all the way down to my feet. Do you?” “Of course she’s hot. the fingers of her right hand touching mine. um. her eyes so sensuous that it's like her eyelashes have grown as stiff as my dick is. I can’t put much energy into looking at her face anyway. She halts one step above me. “Sometimes I just want to rip my shirt and bra off. and in an instant I’m there at the bottom of her porch steps.” “I think that girl is… Oh God. it makes me feel so…” Gina Marie trails off. right in public. your best friend. two glorious hemispheres barely concealed under pale pink fabric. literally feeling my mouth water. When Gina Marie carefully turns . plus it's hard to concentrate with her rack so close. taking two boob-swaying steps down the stairs. They are magnificent. I know this isn’t real — it’s better than real.” she urges. “Be completely quiet. I used to spy on Gina Marie a lot. so close that I could reach out with my tongue and poke its rounded mass.“Private joke. don’t you?” she asks. it’s more a statement of fact. “I think she’s hot as hell. She shifts her weight on the steps and her right breast is suddenly even closer to my face. I guess. with this surprised look on her face. “I need to show you something." And too cute and popular for me to know in any real sense. beckoning with a finger. looking up at her.” Not waiting for an answer. because in real life I was never this close to Gina Marie’s tits. you know. I still have those photos somewhere. and she never would have said anything so incendiary to me. aren’t you?” she asks. “You know Nicole Dampley. because her tits have no problem surging out to catch gallon upon gallon of soft warm light. The cool night breeze caresses the back of my neck and I shiver. Everybody’s staring at them anyway. “Whoa. “You stare at me just like this when I’m sunbathing. all back when I was a kid. Her tone of voice is not accusative. probably in a shoebox.” she whispers cryptically. I won’t bite. The question takes me off guard. “Come over here. “She’s.” she cautions as we tiptoe through the living room to the kitchen. to the point of using my camera with a telephoto lens.” Being bitten by Gina Marie Hurt would have been the highlight of my teen years. she grasps my hand and I’m pulled up the steps and in through the front door.” she says. Except for the tip of her nose. Her tits seem to swell and I see she’s breathing fast. “Come with me.” Gina Marie might as well be pumping hot gas into my dick with those words. which places her boobs at eye level. Maybe they should see just how magnificent they really are. I’ve been in this house any number of times. “Who… would have thought?” “Thought what?” I tremble.” “You’re a strange one. “Sometimes…” she begins.

unfastening the button holding my shorts together.” she vents.the knob to the basement door. “You and me. The rec room down below. “And Nicole Dampley. her waist small and taut. generating even more heat with all the wet friction. heavy pliable flesh filling my palms. yes!” Gina Marie yells. and I see that the room has undergone improvements since I was last here. all… at once. “T…touch them. her slippery cunt taking me in to the hilt with one swift movement. “Oh my God. not brain-dead. and I see that she’s like she was out on the steps. literally gulping. and her hands have surrounded my thick meat. then places her hand flat on my chest. the pussy beneath practically venting hot steam. I’m not wearing any underwear. Her breathing is deep and open-mouthed. Her breasts are enormous. and sighs the kind of sigh I could listen to forever.” she breathes. leaning forward. then stops. The floor is carpeted. We descend the stairs and she ushers me into the room. but it’s Gina Marie who looks possessed as she lines up her pussy to my cock. and with one sudden movement of her arms. I can’t tell who’s gasping louder now. David. “I had to buy all new bras this week. she’d feel what kind of effect her words and the proximity of her boobs have on me. breasts rising and falling like she just finished running a race. Oh God do you want that?” . “I just keep growing and growing…” Holy fucking shit — could a girl say anything hotter? Her weight isn’t upon me but if she sank down just an inch or two. her hips grinding down. I… I didn’t realize… It’s your cock I need inside of me! Oh my God I need your cock inside of me!” Her whole body seems to tremble when she gasps this. squatting low and suddenly sinking. “Oh my God. Gina Marie’s eyes go wide. Before I know it Gina Marie has glided right up to me. My cock presses into her panties. the weight upon her chest shifting. I stand in the middle of the room as she lights candles sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. Gina Marie is no longer partially covered by a negligee. her head tilted down with her eyes slowly raking across her boobs from right to left. as if she can’t believe how big they are either. my fingers digging in and getting lost in it all. back and forth and around and around. rubbing me hard and fast against her wet slit. and even through my shorts I can tell that her panties are very very wet. the area around the fireplace appointed with a large leather sofa and matching chairs. The details of architecture and furniture come to life in pale dancing warmth. breathing so rapidly that she’s almost hyperventilating. I know where we must be heading.” she gasps.” she stutters. “Oh God. and I almost come in my pants as she works my zipper open. My hands are there in a flash. I’ve never…” she begins to say. I’m asleep. becoming two dangling mega-udders with a long line of tight cleavage visible through the neckline of her nightgown. “Oh God. long blonde hair backlit in a narrow ring of gossamer gold. unbelievably wide. Without warning I’m pushed back onto the long leather couch. two floors removed from her sleeping parents and younger sister. pausing to lock the door behind. her lips wet. I fall back upon it and Gina Marie straddles my waist on her knees. D…David. She reaches out and touches my chin.

her head thrashing side to side. I’m only in day five of what could become a ninety-day gig as one of the Lucid Dreaming Special Project’s lab rats. and it’s summer. with a little bedside lamp I brought in. from nine at night until seven in the morning. pounding her with the force of the pounding reverberating all through her huge boobs.. Chapter Two — Light Body. I don grey “pajamas” interwoven with some sort of electronic fibers. my heart pounding. holding onto those ginormous tits as they jiggle wildly. “Yes! Harder! Oh God. no physical or mental discomforts at all. down. You know that you’ve tasted . Lying Bodies As it turns out. going faster and faster. I have no regular job these days. but it’s like eating some exotic dish and not being able to recognize the spicing. I sense an energy in the room that makes my skin itch. and they’re like an additional spark for my lighter-fluid filled dick. I feel our fluids meeting.. therapists and other unknown entities picks at my mind like so many vultures. place an equally outfitted stocking cap on top of my head. at a time when I’m like millions of others. This is plum temp work if you ask me. but at a price. but this one — the first successfully induced lucid-dream in the program’s short history — has the entire team wild with excitement. down. when the team of brain researchers. and they even let me do that. but something a little creepy is going on. never felt anything this overwhelming before…" I recognize her words as my words. so I barely even miss a minute of daylight. The excitement is real. behaviorists. too. I’m pinching her nipples. This is how I always wanted Gina Marie.“Fuck yes. I have to commit ten hours of every day to the program. in near-desperate need for money. There are no wires attached to my head or body in the night. The hard part comes at times like right now. They’re treating me like the dreaming equivalent of that Neil Armstrong dude. kneading all I can grasp of each breast in my big hands. now that Sharon ditched me. I’m g…going to… I’m… I’m… Oh David! Oh fucking David!” I feel her pussy spasm around me. my fingernails digging into those acres of soft heavy flesh… And then I wake up — really wake up — in mid-orgasm. and I’m already used to recounting every infinitesimal detail of every dream I have in the night. I’m accustomed to reading myself to sleep. “I… Oh God I can’t stand it!” she screams. steamy liquid flowing as I meet her release with my own. the pats on the back genuine. and no girlfriend. part of what I yelled into her at The Pizza Escape. but success brings ever-deeper scrutiny. up. I didn’t mind being questioned so aggressively after the first several nights of dreaming. Gina Marie has turned to growling like a wild animal. releases and clenches again spasmodically. upanddown and upanddown. and she rises up. I recognize the vibe by taste. "I've. her eyes filled with an almost feral wantonness. The team can’t hide their elation at my achieving the lucid-dreaming state. No dog to walk or cat to feed. The easy part involves sleeping on the job and getting paid for it. mixing. “Oh G…God David!” she cries. I hammer up at her as she collapses her body down. then lie flat on my back on a special table and drift off to sleep. being a guinea pig for science is both easy and not-easy. but this is different. Her pussy clenches around me. honey-blonde hair tossing so that I can’t even see her face. I’ve always been good at remembering dreams. Filled with more questions than you could shake a spent dick at. her mouth as wide as her eyes are. but that’s no big deal.” I agree.

I mean. and floor lamps bathing the space in warm friendly light. mostly.” “I see. I don’t have to like it. which is bringing some heat. Anyway. But I’ve come to speak no more than called upon to speak. She sometimes wears a white lab coat over her clothes. I don’t think I could have continued on to Australia if my life depended on it. not only by those in the room but by several additional researchers behind a false mirror. is deliberately homey in appearance. I never allow myself to forget that every word spoken here is recorded. but nobody needs to know that.” I squirm. Anne is such a babe and I need this job. this impulse to suck up to unattainable women. because Dr. I haven’t been able to shake the impression that central casting made a clerical error in dishing up a woman like Anne Haggerty to play the part of Dr. I’m not. although I know she understood the first time. That’s the whole point. why a city in Australia of all places?” “David. and you knew you were dreaming. As soon as I thought that. The heels do wonderful things for her ankles and calves. nonetheless. with sofas and armchairs surrounding a broad oriental carpet. I’m not paranoid — the conditions of the experiment were explained to me well in advance. since I knew how much you wanted me to do my globetrotting chores. and I accepted the need to be scrutinized in whatever manner the program deems necessary. unlike the neighboring monitoring room where I sleep. I want her to believe that I’m a totally reliable dream subject.” “But there were two of me in the dream. Anne Haggerty says. promising to divulge every remembered detail of every dream for the duration of the research. but generally they try to keep things friendly in here. lingering on the tongue while playing hide and seek with the brain. and she keeps pressing me on certain details — the made-up ones. pacing back and forth on stylish heels. perhaps. I thought the floating me might… I don’t know. Perhaps that’s why this conference room. which you’d never prepared me for. it was like I got yanked right back into the pizza joint. but you were prevented from continuing to Perth and Hawaii? I’m having a hard time understanding that. Or. I’ve never been monitored like this before. which are quite fetching on their own. Anne and her colleagues all have their quirks. but her height and all that lithe grace says fashion model. She wears eyeglasses. dissolve or something. but even the lab coat looks hot on her long frame. The room looks more like my Uncle Boomer’s den than a lab within a highly restricted research facility. Anne replies. not government employed dream-scientist. my movements observed. no actual harm can come to you in a dream. I don’t know what the penalties are for withholding information — .” Dr. though. giving away nothing extraneous. but its identity is elusive. I’m not sure why. Her mind is a steel trap. Worse. It would help if trust ran back the other way. “You had no problem blinking yourself right into the London and Singapore offices. I’ve signed a very detailed contract with the LDSP. only for some reason I can’t feel that. I struggled against the pull — I struggled like hell against it. if not outright cozy. I quickly abandoned the directives in the dream. From the moment I met her.this thing before. But I couldn’t resist being pulled back. She’s so yummy to look at that I want to please her — it’s a personal failing I have. I’m simply tasting my own nervousness. “Let me get this straight. I’m outright lying to everyone about what happened.” Dr. “Afraid of what? The situation in Australia?” “Maybe.” “I think I became afraid. Anne Haggerty. and though I agreed to it.

Phillips continues. which includes confessing how quickly my lucid-dreaming self ended up screwing the notorious big tit hottie from high school. but he seems to have an infinite capacity for mistaking its nature. He stuffs fresh tobacco into a pipe — nobody likes the smell and it’s probably illegal to smoke inside the research facility. “David. “We’re all very excited that you achieved the lucid-dreaming state in such a short time. about how you performed in there.” interrupts a gruff voice to the right. I briefly considered lying about the sex at the end of the dream. definitively. Phillips puffs. due to my dream-shagging Gina Marie. Anne continues. whether I’m lying or not. and it’s enough that nobody even thinks of denying him his pleasure. and as long as the timeline of my story appears to match the readings from their instruments. But there are… issues. referring to me as though I’m not there. even when I didn’t. and I have to be extremely careful in what I say. too. as well as gooey stains soaking my special sleeping attire. my heart rate — and soon. only to give in to primal fears and a prurient fascination for… titties?” It seems like a rhetorical question.” I answer. probably my gonad replenishment rate.” Dr. I don’t see how they can know. but…” “David failed in many ways to take real control of his dream. “That a dream character alerted him to the signal is…” . outright making shit up.” “You might have ignored the signal indefinitely if your friend Sophie hadn’t pointed it out to you?” “Possibly. And your… dalliance… We never instituted rules about such things. The important thing to remember is that I’m not hooked up now. nor wired for lie detection. She seemed to realize its significance. looking at me above the rim of her glasses. my adrenaline and dopamine levels.or worse. or to amused loved ones at home. but I don’t believe they have any means of capturing actual pictures of my dreams. from the readings — exactly what was happening. Phillips has this indefinable badass vibe. I’m sprinkling in plenty of truth. I had an orgasm in that dream. Every person in this room is brilliant in some way.” “You rationalized it in the dream just like the other times?” Anne asks. per usual.” Dr. we want you to know that. You lost focus. Neil Phillips sits cross-legged in a plush chair near the windows.” Dr. but decided that it was about baking pizzas. because my brain and body are monitored like the San Andreas Fault whenever I sleep in the lab. but the whole team would have known — in real time. lighting the pipe. but I’m sure that I’ll be the butt of jokes told in private meetings. rather than through them. Nobody has said anything mean or condescending about me having a wet dream in my early twenties. They’re reliant on the information I bring back to the conscious world with me. “And later on I thought it was the sound of crickets. “What use is it to achieve the lucid state. “I could hear the signal. I’m pretty sure that the sleeping table itself quietly reads and maps my brainwaves. ceasing the pacing and looking directly at me. Funny how no other rhetorical question ever brought a hot rush of embarrassment to my face. glad to have moved on from the “tittie” stuff. “It’s there to alert him to his dream status. We’re proud of you. Her head is tilted down so I’m getting the serious eyes. “I’m also concerned that David failed to recognize the signal — again.” “Most unexpected. which happened in real life and showed up as intensely peaking squiggly lines on their computer monitors. but Dr. I really don’t want to find out.

Phillips makes significant eye contact with Anne — in essence telling her that embarrassing me with my lust for Gina Marie is counter-productive. not a specific close friend. Obviously it didn’t work out.” Anne interjects. You mentioned that you felt. this Sophie said to him. but . and what she meant to you in your real life.” Dr. and turns her head away. David. Phillips pipes. Was she your lover in real life?” “No.” “I don’t agree with your analysis. “The one with the huge…” Her mouth begins to contort and she stops speaking. smoke curling around his bald head. “This Sophie character’s other behaviors. even the subtle body is a lower form of existence.” “It was the other girl that David lost his focus over. though…” “Most unexpected. and even questioned her own existence within his dream.” Dr. Phillips repeats. but otherwise she is a classic Jungian archetype. but at this point I just tune them out. I have the awful feeling that she’s trying hard to keep herself from laughing.” They continue to argue. I had a crush on her. “Going on. She’s unusually self-aware. Higher being? Light body? Subtle body? I don’t know what they’re talking about any more. “It’s word for word. ‘David. that he can enter the lucid-dreaming state. separating from his dream self.” “And then she witnessed David’s light body. once David realized that he was in a lucid-dreaming state. Anne interjects.” he looks down at his notes. Is that accurate?” “Yes. He consults his notes before speaking. “’something like love’ for her in the dream.” Dr. because they’ve gone into dreaming LaLaLand from my perspective. “How can a secondary dream figure exhibit this kind of awareness?” “She also made a comment about knowing what goes on in David’s mind. a knowing…” “But she saw the light body! Do you realize the significance? She even congratulated David when he split off!” “I think you’re both on the wrong track.” Eduardo throws his opinion into the ring. I’ve told them nothing about my attempt to leave the planet altogether. Dr. his anima.“Not that critical.” I answer. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be’. and I conveniently left out the bit about ogling Gina Marie’s knockers and going into a tantrum when I couldn’t dream-rape her in The Pizza Escape.” Anne chimes in. “She clearly represents David’s inner feminine self. “An anima figure usually appears as an unrecognized female. We were flirtatious friends. “Look at how this Sophie behaves in David’s dream. nothing more. Anne adds. “Tell us about your Sophie.” “Dreams must be approached with flexibility. Phillips responds somewhat testily. Of course she is aware of the light body — from the all-knowing perspective of the higher being. The anima is by definition a guide for the male ego. Anne. by guiding him and pointing out the crucial information that he is being signaled. not his anima. and I figure that I probably created this row by lying to them in the first place. “Unheard of!” expels Eduardo Gonzales. Sophie can’t represent an ordinary archetype in this context. whose particular field of expertise remains a mystery to me. something is different.” Dr. With only the auburn hair and posture to read.” Dr. They know I had sex with her in her parents’ basement — it was hell giving them the details. “Sophie is a representation of David’s higher being.

too. and though dream sex has no meaning for them. like it did at the end. I don’t remember reading anything about a light body. rather than willfully creating them. rather than skipping around the globe from one designated office to another.they see all that as nothing more than wish fulfillment mixed with a descent back into a regular dream state. and I can feel a tiny bit of drool gathered at the corner of my mouth. It became less than true lucid-dreaming. it sure did feel unbelievably exciting to me. I contemplate why I've chosen to lie to them. and undoubtedly will if the opportunity appears. . that went into a light tantrum when Gina Marie wouldn’t give my light dick a good light fuck. I’m also the goose that laid Gina Marie Hurt the first chance I got. It begins to pay off. and actually nod off for a few seconds or minutes in my chair. But the dream timeline took control of me. No one says it outright. after the dream shifted? Even going off about how hot Nicole Dampley was. involving the way Gina Marie eventually said the very things I tried to implant into her in the restaurant. I’m the goose that laid a golden dream. because something I didn’t know emerges from what they’re saying. they insist — I followed events. My attention perks up when I hear the words “light body” again. and hear Dr. Phillips make some joke about the program needing to outfit the furniture in this room with monitoring equipment. The way they talk about me. I’ve been reading nothing but books on dreams and dream interpretation for the past two weeks. though. Going into outer space is no big deal — I guess I don’t quite know why I even did that. I mean. They’re repeating it now. Until then. and suggesting a threesome with her… I have the feeling that something rather profound happened in that dream. and they never used the term in my training. I’m withholding that part from instinct. no fucking way do I suggest that I caused the sex in that dream to appear. No wonder they’re so frustrated that I abandoned the directives. Of course. I wouldn’t mind trying it again. too. It must have been the light body. I’d like to do right by them. They didn’t prepare me sufficiently. I get bored. listening in on their conversation when they think I’m asleep. and it seems to correspond to my experience of splitting into two Davids inside the dream. they're my dreams. just in case I dream. but they might have to earn my complete cooperation. but I get the feeling that it’s my light body that traveled to London and Singapore. and have slightly better than a layman’s understanding of the terms and concepts they regularly discuss. I can’t be sure. because they’ve been trying to induce lucid-dreaming in subjects for over six months. but it’s like a room full of people speaking a foreign language. whereas there’s just no fucking way I’ll tell them how I lost my cool when I couldn’t manipulate Gina Marie into having sex with me. Left alone for a bit. from which they could learn very little. They’ve been waiting for months to induce self-awareness into a dreamer. and so is of little interest to them. It feels oddly satisfying to turn the tables on them. like “anima” and “subconscious mind” and the like. but it appears that I have an “unusual” brain. I keep my eyes closed. It’s one thing to have a dream where a sexual encounter appears. and my selfawareness turned into self-gratification. I’m starting to believe that I’m a four-leaf clover when it comes to dreaming. just about to the letter. maybe I can try some things out. I know this because my head jerks. If I get to the lucid state again. then off into outer space. or what I expected from it. and see where this goes. I follow what they’re saying hoping to learn more. She didn’t do what I wanted when I wanted it. too. and I told them so. and I’m not ready to share all of it yet. but didn’t she fulfill my wishes. It wasn’t. I knew I was the first — nobody hid that from me — but I didn’t know how many failures had preceded tonight’s success. It’s another entirely to confess that I tried until blue in my dream-face to make it happen. exactly — I knew I was dreaming. But there’s another reason.

Actually. while the ones who fucked everything up in the first place are still fantastically rich. to protect me from economic ruin. so I really don’t know if I’ll be enrolled in the fall or not. I wipe the seat with a little towel I carry in my jacket pocket. My bike. just outside of Baltimore. but that might not be true any more. the way faces are unguarded. men and women. it’s hard to know what to do.And what are they going to do — shoot me? *** Early morning fog is just beginning to burn off when I exit the research facility. wondering which way to ride. The student loan company just cut me off from borrowing more to finish my studies. a lot of people in positions of responsibility did some very irresponsible things in this new century. Along with the twin hits of 9/11 and 2/18. a used Honda CBR-600 that still runs like a dream. I’m in what my friends call a “between place”. meaning apprentice work at a portrait studio where I had to make silly faces to keep babies from crying. which is polite-speak for not having a clue of what to do with my life. almost as though the system is betting on my economic ruin. with drool stringing down onto their adorable chins You can take a guess who got fired — the index finger. I could pat Sallie Mae on the back if this was being done for my benefit. extremely detailed close-ups of people.S. it’s kind of a crappy world out there right now. things that have withered the world economy in ways a terrorist could only dream of. but somehow my name got mixed up with it. and people being laid off everywhere. I’ve already explored the commercial possibilities of exercising my talents. My response to a world in crisis is to be an photography student in a nowhere college — proof that I should have my head examined when I’m awake. and I tried. because I always thought it was a dastardly crime how students like me had to mortgage our futures to get our degrees. Now it’s a crime that some of us are not being allowed to. because they haven’t yet given me an employee parking sticker. I still think of myself as a graduate student. The parents wanted the precious ones shaken awake. It’s ironic. lots of folks are really hurting. I am — or was — a first year graduate student at Towson State University. and strap on my helmet. because they agree with you. but my index finger disagreed. I’m not sure they ever will. and all the cars are beaded from thunderstorms that must have passed in the night. sits all by itself in the “guest” section beyond the security check. much of Eastern Europe in flames and those still alive in Australia under a state of martial law. I have a fascination for that. My photographs are old school black-and-white silver prints. and playing golf. perhaps you work for the student loan people. They’re not — they’re just afraid to lend money these days. Not that I have a radically different opinion about my prospects. With gas at six bucks a gallon in the U. They’re calling this the “Age of Change”. While there were actual villains willing to kill hundreds of thousands to forward their twisted religious agendas. it’s the fact that we shot our own selves in the face that has the world howling with pain. but I can’t deny that my creative sensibilities kicked into a higher gear whenever a baby fell asleep. If you think that my art sounds like a dead end when it comes to money… Well then. The blacktop of the parking lot shimmers with diffused morning light. captured when they sleep. Clients demand bright perky smiles from their little treasures. Things have gone decidedly Darwinish. I don’t know who writes these rules… Wait. and kept shooting pictures of little Tonya or Billy all blissful and relaxed. bodies relaxed. and I’m not exactly at the top of the food chain. when people sleep. In case you haven’t heard. not sleeping. period. that’s not true. . and with the oil states imploding. most people are wishing that things had stayed the way they were. It’s hard to know what to do with your free time when you’re currently sleeping for a living. It’s like the saying almost goes: We met the enemy and it was us… mostly. I just don’t see how they live with themselves once they write them. Thanks a lot.

and take a right onto Oak to cruise by the house where I grew up.” I quickly say as she pours my coffee. After a sad stretch of abandoned McMansions and burned-out box stores. a friendship. “Yeah?" she smiles. when people need to drown their sorrows. This is the land I saw beneath me when I flew skyward in my dream last night. after losing Dan out in the bay. I’m not sure what I’d be good at. hon?” Millie is Sophie’s mom. but it isn’t like I’ve exactly thrived in the city. I’m only on the expressway for a couple of exits. Maybe lawyering. Millie?” “Awful. I’m mostly confused. and more than a little fearful that I’m destined to flame out at twenty-three. A newer model jukebox has replaced the one I remember. opposite from where I live. before I even get a chance to “find myself” and do anything. and even the safe jobs aren’t safe any more. though. “I had a dream about Soph last night. Instead. and practically raised her daughter on these swivel stools. I don’t really experience any feelings of nostalgia by coming here. It’s been repainted — so has Gina Marie’s parents’ place next door. I don’t miss the town so much — my parents both left. . but I do feel… I don’t know. otherwise the place looks the same. I do miss Millie’s Diner. “Except for nights. “What brings you ‘round these parts? You want the usual. Maybe environmental studies. not the problem — at least I wear a T-shirt proclaiming that. Millie bought this fine old diner seventeen years ago.” Millie chides.buddy. One thing I do know how to do is eat breakfast after a hard night’s work. though. my first real job. and man do the dimples still light up this smile. restless. Maybe I’d start some business of my own. bright morning sun making me squint. and I see that my stomach has been leaning my bike in a familiar direction. I want to part of the solution. “David Sand!” Millie exclaims upon seeing me. empty for the summer. I suppose I had to come back to Osprey Flats after dreaming about it so vividly. but I haven’t been here in more than six months. I keep thinking that if I could start over. which was less than I wanted. planting the seeds for… well. with a big chalkboard installed behind the counter. as did most of my old friends. then head east on the slow roads. I’d probably want to change my major from photography to something more practical. and she was sort of a second mom to me for a time. especially her famous hash browns. I sat in on some of those lessons when I broke my leg in fourth grade — it was right here in the quiet afternoons before the dinner rush that Sophie and I began to hang out. and their peppery smell is like a punch to the nostrils when I open the thick glass door and walk inside. She even home-schooled Sophie for a time. "I hope Sophie told you she would call home more often. I pass my high school. the land flattens into the Chesapeake estuaries and modest farmlands of my youth. I worked two summers at this diner in high school.” she replies matter of factly. although I hate wearing a suit and I refuse to wear a tie.” I’m surprised that she’s willing to use that phrase. Millie is still an extremely good-looking woman — Sophie got her shape and the dimples from these genes. I was anxious to leave this nothing of a place a few years ago. or in college. “How’s business. I haven’t been good at visiting lately — it’s not that long a ride. though God knows what that might be. or marine science. I grab a seat at the counter — the very one that Sophie sat on the night I almost got in her pants — and take a quick look around.

don’t you remember?” “Vaguely. I feel… I don’t know.” “Why do you say that?” “You were always having dreams about crossing bridges. and you answered. With men.” Millie says in reply. “Anyway.“Can’t help you there. “You know I always thought you two would end up together. It’s been a couple of months since we got together and she.” I confess.” “When you were little you had a bunch of dreams like that. realizing how much I miss Sharon. I thought so too for awhile. “Sharon and I are taking a bit of a break from each other. Or miss the sex with her. She has a husband. Whatever. She could be a bartender with that sort of silent empathy. maybe. and what could possibly be the harm? I give her a generalized rundown on the early part of the dream. and she enjoys the teaching. I guess. she is a bartender. which by extension would mean the dreams themselves. . where you were on a bridge. designed to reel in more information than first appears.” “You could at least call each other every now and then.” “Let me guess. going as far as the part where Sophie seemed to know that I was dreaming before I did.” “And what about your significant other? How is Sharon?” Some questions are like fishing hooks. I’m afraid. But fuck it — this is Millie. you know?” “That’s probably more my fault than hers. Like it’s too awkward. when we were teen-agers.” she shrugs. Keep up. it’s what keeps this place in business. I don’t think I ever laughed so hard in my life! You were all of six or seven years old. Hell. The dream was set in the past. “It’s not easy finding the right partner. all excited to get to the other side. you made it back to Osprey Flats this morning. or just the comfort of having a cute girlfriend to feel good about. “Sophie got a wonderful education out in California. the hook catching you right in the gums. “I know. I asked you one time what it was on the other side that was so dang important. Not really.” I look down at the counter after admitting this. silently blending her own sense of loss with mine. “Oh. Did I ever actually get to the other side?” “Don’t think so. Millie’s eyes are kind when I look up. too. Tell me what my daughter was up to in this new dream you had. And this break is soft-boiled or hard-boiled?” “Hard.” she finally says. uh. She made good choices in the career department.” I’m wondering whether I should recount any particulars at all — the agreement I signed prohibits talking about the research. You ended up trying to cross a bridge in this dream. Some questions hurt. and talking all serious like that!” “I don’t remember these dreams at all. Millie’. all serious: ‘An entirely different world. doesn’t return my calls very often.

It takes real effort for me to keep from sucking coffee down the wrong pipe. it’s just that a new customer has arrived. especially the legs. all shape and no detail because of the bright sun glaring behind her. and the same for her ass. She’s wearing a tight blouse with shorts and sneakers. Yep — she earned that wow. She was present when I first interviewed. She sees my face going all quizzical. yes.” she answers. Who knew? “I followed you here. Anne’s assistant. You had to come all this way for breakfast?” “My breakfast is worth a few extra miles. once we’re seated. but we rarely bump into each other. the gorgeous and expressive kind with eyes that can brighten a room. or whatever her son-in-law’s name is. and I gave her my personal information for setting up withholding taxes and all that stuff. “Anne thinks you lied about what happened in your dream.” Millie asserts with pride. “She thinks I’m a liar?” I choke. “You don’t have a cell phone. I do. and all the shapes are definitely whistle-worthy. and I think it’s because she doesn’t want to badmouth Everett. and I swivel on my stool to see the hot dish that must have walked through the door. Mary Poole and I have barely spoken to each other. but… wow. She looks as good going as she did coming. Or. I see that she has legs to die for. just to double-check on her legs. remember? And we really need to talk. . I should say something here — recommend Millie’s hash browns at the least — but my tongue is frozen because my brain is frozen because this entire scene does not compute. “You two take a booth and I’ll bring your food over.” she drops her bomb. What she lacks in height was well compensated for with hauntingly beautiful facial features — she has one of those truly great faces. too — I know you’re holding something back. for the first time. very compact with nearly black hair and piercing blue eyes. and volunteers. Please don’t tell me they’re letting me go for fucking Gina Marie in my sleep. from the readings. besides the innocuous “How’s it going?” stuff. or even a government lab. a graduate student in behavioral studies serving as Dr. They don’t go one for forever like Anne’s. One of the old men sitting in a booth whistles appreciatively. and I hear the rush of the highway as the door opens behind me. Since then I’ve known that she’s around on the other side of the glass. or Eveready. I think. “In a word. And now. “David? Can we talk?” I recognize the voice an instant before I can make out her features. my heartbeat rising. “What’s so urgent?” I ask. “I thought for the last several miles that I was going to run out of gas! I stopped for some when you pulled in here.” I deliberately walk behind Mary as she chooses a booth. The question is. defending my nonexistent honor.” Millie touches my arm.though…” Millie trails off. Millie looks past my shoulder. A petite woman is standing there. “Mary? What on earth are you doing here?” Mary Poole is one of those unseen eyes on the other side of the glass at the lab. She’s the opposite physical type from Anne.

I guess I am. “I could have gone on to Perth and the others. I lounged on a cloud and checked out a satellite. you never know.why?” It’s hard to know how to respond. just as Millie arrives with my scrambled eggs and a double order of hash browns. grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go. “Can I get you something. too. I’m wondering what Mary was insinuating with that ‘Don’t you wish?’ bit.” I confess. and she orders green tea and wheat toast. The terms are from different traditions.” I go with my gut. hon?” Millie asks Mary.” “I was embarrassed. I struggled like crazy to keep going… That would be your adrenaline and heart levels right there. because I knew I was dreaming. They’ll definitely want to know about this. Care to share it with me?” “I tried to fly into outer space.” she quips. Is she on the clock. I got this strange yearning for freedom.” she continues. in bright curvy lines peaking on her computer monitor. It was like gravity. and the next thing I knew I was up in the clouds. but it all felt so effortless and… I don’t know — pointless. It’s just that. “You were definitely fighting something tooth and nail in your dream at one point — your heart rate and adrenaline levels went through the roof! But something else happened. I was dream-sweating. but nobody said squat to me about any ‘light body’ until today. how I came in my sleep. or something even stronger than gravity.” “Why didn’t they prepare me for splitting off like that? You guys talk like you know all about it. I wasn’t scared to go to Australia. “Your story was pretty good. She probably thinks I’m a total horndog. out of nowhere. interrogating me for Anne and the others? Is she here on her own? Worried about me? Pissed at me? Looking out for me? ”I. Flying around like that was exhilarating — it felt so incredibly real and I kind of got off on being able to do it. “I knew it! Why do something so stupid?” “Is this where you lock me in handcuffs?” “Don’t you wish.” “Your light body extended too far from the real you. once we’re alone. because I don’t know what kind of hat Mary Poole is wearing. giving up the easy stuff.” “So what is a ‘subtle’ body?” “Same thing. that’s all. until I remember that she must have witnessed. and I was probably halfway to the moon before I couldn’t go any further.” “Why lie about that? They might find the information useful in some way. um… I might have bent the truth just a little.” “My light body is the floating me that split off from the other me in the dream?” “That’s right. I guess.” .

and a little bit concerned for you. Not necessarily.” “Awakening like that inside a dream doesn’t happen often. You aren’t still holding something back?” Her eyes grow wide and probing. They gave you the task — popping from one office to the other — but never even hinted at the means. I should probably lay everything I did on the table… I can’t. Maybe that’s why I have so few photos of women who weren’t in the graduate program with me — what I want to photograph sounds like it must be deviant in some way. They don’t own me.” . and people don’t understand it any better when you tell them that it’s art. much the way Anne does.“They didn’t want to poison the experiment. “It doesn’t explain the brain activity. every region in both hemispheres. and my heart goes pitter-patter with equal parts lust and suspicion. and I could see the other me sitting kind of stiffly right where I’d left him. I’m here on my own — Anne and the others don’t even know I came here. ”At one point. only not really — it’s like I dreamed that I woke up inside the dream. cocking an eyebrow. which means you didn’t just imagine the entire experience for their benefit. I’m betting that I could get some great photos of Mary Poole asleep. or asking as you?” “I’m asking as me. and make her desire her friend's tits. Stick a set of wings on this girl and she’d be a dead ringer for a ravenhaired angel. “Are you asking for them. “I think something else happened in your dream. I try not to stare. it’s your light body that can travel with the speed of thought. It helps them to verify what’s really happening. only after seeing computer graphs of what I did with Gina Marie in my dream. those impeccable legs curled into a fetal position. Mary would probably think a request for modeling is some kind of pick-up ploy. just a little bit later… Total brain illumination on the computer screen. “Who wants to know?” I ask boldly. for at least five seconds.” “Right after the part your story was supposed to cover. You discovered that all on your own. I wake up. I’m… perplexed about all this.” “But you’ll tell them whatever I say.” “'Poison'?” “Maybe influence is a better word. won’t you? It’s your duty. though. not to a hot girl like Mary.” Mary interrupts my mental wandering. rubbing at her chin. Hormone levels through the roof. your entire brain lit up — I mean the whole thing. You struggled against something and the readings show that. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life! What on earth were you doing when that happened?” “Doing when? It was a long dream. must be when I — or my light body — tried to dream-rape Gina Marie Hurt. So instead I say: “Maybe that’s when I woke up inside the dream.” “So what else haven’t they trained me for?” She smiles obliquely. my heart melts. That part is confusing as hell to me — I got sucked back into The Pizza Escape.” “Maybe. you know. but I can’t help imagining what that face would look like sound asleep. though. Then. I suspect. all of your nerve centers illuminated… It was… unbelievable!” That.” Mary comments. She’s silently telling me “You know I can’t tell you that”. In theory. but the way she looks. Then… poof.

yes. just like a "soul" can never be measured. from the little bit I know. A human being needs special training.” “The implications for the direction of the research?” “Right. It’s thought that … Well.” . and those who do don’t think it can be measured." “They believe that. I thought you should be monitored for your own safety.” “So we have a mystery to solve. “I’ve got to find out what experience in a dream could cause a human brain to light up like that. or the implications. my opinions hold little weight among that group. God’s honest truth. assuming I can get there again. and as you might guess. otherwise… Well.” “I thought nothing could harm me in a dream. Experiencing it without preparation is like the German soldiers viewing the contents of the Ark of the Covenant in the first Indiana Jones movie.” “That’s why you followed me all the way out here? To warn me?” She seems to squirm a tiny bit.” “Which isn’t the same as an iron-clad certainty. and lie through my teeth. “Why are you concerned for me?” I finally ask. until I saw it with my own eyes last night. It refers to something that’s spoken of in certain meditative practices — it’s quite a special thing to attain it. the chin-rubbing thing. “I’m not holding anything else back. I had no idea that we’d end up here when I decided to follow you. David. I argued that we should keep you in-house today.” “I would have chosen ‘impossible’. Whatever the reason. Mary. I saw you get on the elevator to leave this morning and it hit me that you ought to have a friend in the program. that the light body is much closer to the soul. It might have something to do with the way she unconsciously mimicked one of Anne’s habits a moment ago. I should probably level with her… But I’m not going to. and is prepared for ahead of time. the very existence of a light body is not agreed upon. Whatever characteristics it has have never been measured or quantified.” “You make it sound kind of… creepy. and I stuff hash browns into my mouth. buying a bit of time to think. Maybe we can figure this out with more lucid-dreams. But I watched your brain light up like a Christmas tree during the time you had an experience of the light body. It might be that I just can’t bring myself to tell a beautiful. And maybe even for your… health.” “No. I choose wariness over confession. or she’s scary convincing. because… Well. “If you must know. “The light body is a little known force. an experience of the light body is a very special thing. Anne and the others disagreed. like she’s trying to decide whether to say something or not.Our food has arrived. no one knows. We don’t know what caused that.” she says. many don’t believe in it. it isn’t. Brains just don’t do that. From a scientific perspective. In the old traditions. just in case. I thought they were being a bit… cavalier.” Either Mary Poole is being straight with me. sexy young woman how I tried to dream-rape another beautiful and sexy woman last night.

right?” “Right.” “Yes.” “Yes.” “You’ve already given the details to a whole group of people. “Just… interested.” she says. I mean really intense. yes. waiting. “Okay.” There’s a kind of excitement behind the blue eyes that wasn’t there before. even though nothing actually moves.I won't take credit for something my brain might have done without me knowing it. I want to photograph this girl. “I had dream sex one time. She looks really shy all of a sudden.” I say. It’s kind of personal. looking sort of far away.” “I see. not looking at me. And then fuck her brains out.” I mutter." “Whoa. Again I have the sense that she’s trying to decide whether to say something or not. Was it different? Heightened? Totally realistic? Otherworldly?” “The sex?” “The sex. Mary seems to squirm again. They didn’t pay much attention to that part. So I stay quiet. I’m aware of that. but…” “But you did?” “You said that you still knew you were dreaming. Mary smiles an inscrutable smile. and watch Mary sip her tea. but they weren’t…” I’m the one squirming now. “There’s something else I want to know…” she begins. though I really don’t.” “This whole subject is kind of personal. and I… When I heard you telling the others about your dream. all while trying to dream-fuck a girl I had the hots for. They weren’t gorgeous women the same age as me is probably what I want to say.” “I want to know — I hope this isn’t too uncomfortable — what it felt like to have sex in your dream. Goddamn. because I don’t know how to finish the sentence. “It got so… intense.” I watch the continued lip action. “Why do you want to know?” I ask. “You know I see and hear everything that’s discussed from behind the glass.” “I want to know what it felt like. . I think we might be done talking altogether until I see her chewing on her lower lip. “I listened to every word of what you told the team. I couldn’t help but wonder what I would have done in mine if I’d known I was dreaming.

I’m shocked when my mouth begins to move.” she says. curious but restrained. I just jumped off a cliff. standing next to the table. Instead you let your Gina Marie dream-character take the lead.” “Sleeping?” she asks. I remind myself — she’s probably seeing weird shit or inescapable patterns inside of me that I don’t even know I have. I’m spared from blurting out anything else because Mary Poole looks at her watch. I’m also not getting a yes/no answer from her about the photos.” I reply. all sorts of wild things. It’s a series I’m working on — close-ups of people when they're sleeping. That ends up looking not quite the same — it’s like the camera can tell the difference somehow — but even pretending to sleep is interesting. but down here.” she adds as she slips tip money for Millie under her teacup. “How about a firm ‘maybe’ on that photo thing? We’ll see how it goes. How… balanced. “Okayyy…” she responds. Mary. Is she congratulating me on deferring to a woman.” “How so?” “People like me monitor you when you’re asleep. I look at the planes of her face again.“I think you were remarkably restrained. Was she interrogating me? Teasing me? Planting seeds for me to go medieval on some sexy girl the next time I achieve the lucid-dreaming state? Just being a sort-of friend? “Out with Sharon. I stare at her shapely legs for as long as I can see them. and you have your way of monitoring others when they sleep. and I have this awful feeling that in her estimation. the splatter pattern says total weirdo. giving nothing away about whether there will or won’t be a next time. asking before I even know what I’m saying. wondering what the hell just transpired here. since I never told her what my dream sex felt like. and walks away. Your subject is funny. Only fair. “That’s getting way ahead of events. “So.” she winks. “I’ll be seeing you. and says she’s got to be going.” I know I must look stunned. I find that rather… interesting. “I’d like to photograph you. And now you even have a job where you have to determine whether you’re asleep or awake when you sleep. the bright eyes. in with this one?” Millie asks. or a dream character? Or is she surreptitiously urging me to go all kinky if the opportunity rises again? She’s studying behavioral science.” I have no idea how to respond. “I knew you were a photographer — it’s in your file. like I can already see the photos I’ll take of this woman. “Do you like this girl?” . David. my eyes tracing the fine jaw. “Or pretending they’re asleep. though. You could have done… you know. adding that I’ll treat the next time. because I’d never even thought to think of it that way. I guess. On the cliff’s edge I was an almost normal person to get to know. The details shift into beautiful black-and-white in my imagination. She offers to pay for my breakfast and I decide to let her.” The blue of her eyes becomes probing.

" Millie agrees. "Although I think she appears… haunted. online — jack-shit about it. You’re still sore. capital “L”. or is it merely a further step in human evolution. as in “Omigod. or can divine grace bestow the experience of the light body on an unenlightened soul? And what is the light body for — communication with and connection to The Ultimate. diamond body. and she has some things to figure out.” "Like?" "Nope.“I don’t really know her. resurrected body. but a tool borrowed from downstairs proved that Mr. Mr. Johnson. my brain flamed out from trying to make a dream version of Gina Marie fuck me last night!” Thing is. body of bliss. One way or another. has as many names as there are people to name it: light body. Um. where the energy of thought transcends our dense and difficult existence as carbon-based . radiant body. I'd want you to do the finding out for yourself. picking up a few groceries and some Advil for a throbbing headache in my temples. cobbled together the interior over a number of years. Pepper in my hand." Chapter Three — Stormy Relationship I make a stop on the ride home. and knowing that. everybody is pointing in the direction of spiritual enlightenment and the alchemical transformation of earthly flesh into a literal body of Light. a right angle. David. but even more questions: Does the earthly body have to wither and literally die for the light body to appear? Must one attain a permanent connection to the God Force through meditative efforts and devotion. And I'll bet a case of beer you will. Even if I knew. It doesn’t help that my motorcycle helmet presses tight to these areas. With a glass of iced Dr. I’d be concerned if my temples didn’t throb a little. and because I have this thing about air conditioning bringing down civilization through global warming. subtle body… I click through several definitions. and I can’t help but think of Mary Poole’s concerns.” “Definitely a looker. seeing that nearly every spiritual tradition on the planet believes in this possibility. supra-celestial body. It’s around noon when I curb my bike on the street at home. Be careful with that one. The place has tons of mismatched windows and has what my ex-girlfriend called “cartoon character”. The light body. I flop down on my couch and fire up my laptop. using scrap material he could get at enormous savings. I fight the heat by throwing open several windows and changing into shorts and no shirt. It takes about ten seconds to feel that I just opened a door to every old religion or new-age cult on the planet. I sure like the way she looks. an odd little place that has the spirit of an elaborate tree house. I made a bet with myself that I would find at least one right angle hiding somewhere among the walls or cabinets. There are many “definite” statements about the light body. I sometimes get sinus pressure when the weather is changeable. riiighttt… And what does any of this have to do with an immaterial body that zips around inside of a dream? I read on. Johnson is genetically incapable of constructing. and it’s one of those things where the more I read. I see. my landlord and the owner of the hardware store below. It’s stuffy as hell when I open the door. I remember hearing that we’re due for severe thunderstorms sometime today. the more confused I am. even by chance. typing the words “light body” once the search engine comes online. because it does. It’s freshly painted — about a dozen different colors — and everything everywhere appears to slope one way or another. but no one actually knows — or says. the air already thick and humid. and tall dark clouds are building ominously in the summer haze. I rent a small apartment above a hardware store in northeast Baltimore.

not firmly. Maybe it’s that sound — a woman in heat. Gina Marie’s titties definitely felt like heavenly spheres in my hands. and I wonder how much she knows about this stuff. I knew nothing of the sort. I read about ethereal forms of energy so refined that they are unknown to conventional physics. but my brain switched off every time the instructor said something about feeling a connection in the body to “higher energies from above”. Mary Poole hinted at similar things over breakfast. Even if her outlook was more Eastern. Today. Phillips so kindly put it. Gina Marie’s boobs keep flashing in my mind. I laugh again. I turn on the TV for relief. I liked the stretching. Then again. I thought the same way about Sharon. but it grew into a wedge that doomed our relationship. It was tempting. and notice that I have two phone messages on my machine. It seemed like a trivial thing at first. but then I went off-script and lied about it. and the backs of those shapely legs walking in front of me. because I just couldn’t do it. and stuck to my position of doubt. flipping from one thought to the next. but her body was definitely designed for sin. I guess I could have faked it. and I got to hear it. Sharon believed… no. which I haven’t heard recently — that gets me feeling so agitated. and Mary Poole’s legs in her summer shorts. she said she knew that our individual paths are guided by an intelligent higher power. the excited panting sounds female. I read how the light body is an altered vehicle of consciousness that can operate within ordinary space-time in ways impossible for biological flesh. and it proved fatal to our relationship. and the second makes me laugh out loud. and I might be persuaded to call the dream-me a “body of bliss” while they hump-wobbled in front of me. as Dr. I get up to put some fresh ice in my glass. with access to Sharon’s toned and flexible yoga body hanging in the balance. and I couldn’t feel something that basic to my personality change just by stretching my body. because it’s a heavy breather. just to make peace. Was she flirting with me today. I mean. not “spiritual”. my head throbs and my attention skips around like it’s also controlled by a remote. but I hardly think that’s what everybody is talking about. Standing still. and the word that comes to mind is “sinful”. I listen with rapt attention. but now with a hard-on. but this stuff about an evolutionary leap is everywhere in the articles and book descriptions I surf through. because it sounds like some woman just masturbated the living fuck out of herself. however. I’m feeling that same skepticism while reading through this stuff on my computer. and . I picture her beautiful face. I grew up hating the Yankees and see no reason to change. and she got pretty irritated with my attitude about the so-called spiritual aspect of the practice. with no robes and beards involved. The Orioles are up 2-0. though. I attended a few yoga lessons with her. I must believe in stubbornness. Incredibly. while being at the very heart of ancient metaphysics and higher mysticism. proclaiming that I believed whatever Sharon believed. She may have the face of an angel. The first is a sales call. all the way until I hear orgasmic cries that are definitely female. and there’s an Orioles/Yankees game on cable. with men on second and third in the second inning with no outs. I’m not going to say that it’s all a crock. but I feel decidedly dense and mortal these days.life? I’d thought that religions were at war with the theory of evolution. and drama like this would normally have me poised to cheer on the home team or throw the remote at the TV. because the light body keeps being tied to a quest for spiritual attainment — a supposed purification of all earthly desires — and all I wanted to attain last night was Gina Marie’s “titties”. or is that only wishful thinking? And how precarious is my position in the dream program? I succeeded where others have apparently failed.

the redhead with the super-narrow waist and the power boobs surging out above. and in dream form I could do everything with any girl that I ever fantasized about. from my digital photo class? Laurel had calves that looked like they might crush my motorcycle if she rode on the back. Laurel Lee. I was so happy to see him and I hugged him tight… And then realized that the reason I was so happy was that Midnight had died the year before. I switch to The Weather Channel. What would it be like to travel down the many pathways. but the pleasure would feel completely real. got under her skin. I told them from the beginning that I’ve had a good number of lucid dreams in my life. I must have a habit of that. pressing the cool of the glass to my right temple. and wanted sex with her cheerleader friend. as far as I know. though — there must be countless women I’ve known or merely seen in my life that quickened my pulse and stirred my cock. and how many times did I jack off thinking about her back then? I think about the girl who worked at the coffee shop on Charles Street for awhile. She even wanted her friend Nicole to join us — I never said anything about a threesome. because there are plenty of women from my past that I’d like to see again. I knew then that I was dreaming — either that or Midnight had come back to life. I’m almost positive that I know what created the brain highlights that Mary talked about. starting when I was a kid. In the very first one — I was only six when I had it — I was playing with some toy soldiers on the floor of my bedroom. Ms. It’s like my thoughts. of biting off more than I can chew when I’m asleep. and an entirely new dream appeared. but consciously working within the parameters that the subconscious has already chosen to visit. I’d just love to plant myself between her divine legs. I willed a totally hot dream into existence where a rackalicious babe wanted me to have my way with her. Half the class held its breath every time she removed her sweater. my wishes. Kay. And failing. instead of waking up? The possibilities are insanely cock-hardening. though — I don’t think I can be in control of who shows up in a dream.I'm betting that mary will confirm that. just once. I’d want to fuck them. and take her up into the stratosphere to fuck her astronaut-style. for instance. Thunder rumbles outside. Hell. Luciddreaming isn’t about willfully creating crazy scenarios in the mind. I can only hope that they’ll forgive me and keep me on for the full ninety days. and read a severe thunderstorm warning . but I never got the sense that they entirely believed me. which I was pretty sure was impossible. Or what about that half-Asian girl. and lie back on the sofa. Well. Pretty crazy dream for a six year-old kid. taking in her beauty through the viewfinder with her boyfriend hanging out like a bodyguard during the shoot. I told the dream-Gina Marie that she desired me and needed to fuck me. The threesome never happened — maybe if I'd kept dreaming. since I heaped lust for Nicole’s tits and pussy onto Gina Marie. and it was kind of painful when she agreed to model for me. and inside the many vaginas. I could make Laurel’s boyfriend gay. Thing is. where almost everything I wanted came true. I do see a problem. that would never be accessible in real life? No one would get hurt. exactly. even if it was dream skin. I’m sort of tired for the early afternoon. What would I have done if I could have flown to another planet or wherever? And why. too. Without even knowing I could. my eighth grade English teacher. Last night’s dream was pretty crazy. Everything was normal — I had no awareness that I was actually asleep. did I try to do that? I recall what Millie said about how I always tried to get to the other side of a bridge in my dreams — now I seem to be trying to get to the other side of the whole fucking galaxy. just like old times. but it’s right out of the playbook . My sexual partners would be whichever women happened to appear in my dreams — I wouldn’t think it possible to summon a particular woman just by wishing it so. I could explore that. But then our cat Midnight slinked in the door and brushed up against me. not just see — if they appeared.

The windows rattle just before a wave of raindrops slap at the glass. Thunder cracks. yes. leading a tour. “It’s time for you to rise above that. It’s so dark that the street lights have come on. “David? Open up. Lying on the sofa with a throw pillow under my head. and see flashes of light flicker on the dark screens of my eyelids. remember?” . I look at her suspiciously. I wonder how much shit Anne or the others will give me about holding information back in the post-dream debriefing.” she says. and realize how little time there is. not theirs. Kay. like she’s masturbating the living fuck out of herself. I open the door to find her standing at the top of the stairs in cut-offs and a lime green tank top.” Sharon never speaks like this — she’s always very direct. We need to talk. and it’s a no-brainer that the baseball game is going to be rain delayed or even postponed. because a door has been opened. great legs. I turn off the TV. bulging sweaters. expecting to hear a woman panting heavily. if it’s a day off. and I try to picture where Sharon would be right now. I close my eyes. “What are you talking about? Why are you even here?” She makes a brushing gesture. but you are now. I wonder if the storm system will have passed before I have to make the ride to the facility.” she laments. Sharon in leotards with her legs spread wide.” No masturbating woman. “You're going to have to wake up. I picture her nude on her yoga mat. their sensors fooled by the slate grey air. Or. It’s hot. her fine legs stretched out. and listen. You weren’t really capable of it before. I have the sense that this is no ordinary visitor. She’s too lovely to not have one. and there are probably rules about anyone on staff becoming romantic with one of the test subjects. it’s Sharon. I wonder how long someone’s been knocking at my door. now that the rules are look but don’t touch. but I wonder if she’s showing so much skin just to twist the knife. wondering if she’s on something. I think of Ms. she might be at her apartment. Gina Marie’s tits.scrolling at the bottom of the screen. “I’m here to give you some advice. and close the windows all around. watching these same storms roll through. We need to speak almost every night. David. please. “Advice? What advice?” “We need to communicate more. her body glistening with sweat as lightning flashes outside. Mary Poole. I wonder if Mary Poole has a boyfriend. “You can be so dense. I wonder if I’ll be able to recognize the whine of the signal tonight when I dream.” she says.” “A better relationship? You broke up with me. They show radar images of the line of storms. We need a much better relationship. I put my ear to the door. She glides past me and sits sideways on the couch. as though my questions are like lint to be swept out of the air. But it needs to be your door. Probably at the aquarium. The fucking Yankees — they always have some way of getting out of a jam.

just to see whether I can dial up a specific sex act: Deep down. not the form. you know you can give amazing head. but I also know I could wake up at any second and lose any opportunity to act. because someone was speaking about crossing bridges just recently. The question makes my entire body shiver. I’m still asleep on my couch with the thunderstorm raging outside. if you were sleeping in the lab?” she asks. but you still don’t know me. “What would you hear right now. Recognize the energy. you really do need to wake up. David. There is a bridge that must be crossed.” “Okay. and I tell her so. okay. with accessory nipples included. along with the Sharon who talks in riddles. Which isn’t exactly a disaster. I’m suddenly floating up here with the other me standing down there. I concentrate hard on making Gina Marie appear in front of me. your whole body longing for my touch. and start by willing my eighth grade English teacher to appear in the dream. “You need to wake up. and you ache to use all of your flexibility for my sexual pleasure. “You know me. Nothing changes. and learn. As before. Do you understand?” I’m momentarily disoriented. It’s like she’s my soul mate. and that nothing can make you come . I don’t hear anything but the patter of rain and the rumble of thunder. feeling between worlds. and it’s the same. yet she won’t even return my calls when I leave a message on her… “David. and awareness of my current reality comes flooding in. I’m elated at being in the lucid state again. And then. full and kind of exuberant. and ask a question when you really need answers. To prove that I’m in the lucid state. I begin. Down below her tits jut out alluringly under the tank top. from fingernails to individual eyebrow hairs to the faint chicken pox scar up where her hair begins on her forehead. Which I’d just love to fondle again. and I might be stuck with them. You want to tease me. but you’re all torn up about having broken up with me. and I go over the sequence. cocking her head to listen.” I answer. but there is no signal because I’m asleep in my apartment.She shakes her head like I’m just not getting it. by trying to create a seduction dream the same way I did last night. both hands resting on my cheeks. then aim it all into this version of Sharon. you ache with desire. Floating down. I get so close to Sharon that I’m almost skimming her body with my nose. The thing is. “But you…” “Do you hear that?” she interrupts. not with my sexy ex-girlfriend in the room. and all this stuff with Sharon is just another dream. I can travel in a flash — I learned that last night — but some things seem to be set in place. her body uncurling from the couch with almost unnatural grace. Sharon’s tits always reminded me of an adult version of a Barbie doll. You can’t stop thinking about me. every detail is there. though I’m not sure why. of course. Just to double-check. God damn all that yoga is doing some fine things for Sharon’s body. and you’ll never make it to the other side without help.” I’d hear the signal in the lab. not the… “I’m dreaming!” I shout. I look into Sharon’s eyes and feel like I know her and don’t know her all at the same time. then stands. An entire scenario appears in my head in a flash. hoping to repeat the stirring results of the night before: You didn’t realize it before. Lightning flashes and she’s suddenly right in front of me. I will myself to fly up to the ceiling and sure enough. I recall some of the things I wanted to try out. just like I expected.

not on the sofa. listening to the same summer storm. and I grin. waiting breathlessly for what I know is going to happen next. some accidental mishmash of neurons agitating other neurons? Maybe there’s nothing to count on. I keep hoping. I float around and yell out some random shit to the staff. Thinking about the research facility. and my brain is never going to light up like that again. dammit. but too much like reality. so they can know for sure that I’m not just inventing a bunch of stuff that I know they’d want to hear. with Perth looking like a city on its way to becoming a Road Warrior landscape. Curious. and I’m so fucking hard. But would the team even believe that I slipped into the lucid-state again so soon? That’s probably why I need to be hooked up to all that monitoring equipment.more intensely than having my cum spurting in your mouth. I’m suddenly there. with several crumbled buildings on the other side of the street. which reads 10:55 AM. I’m perfectly happy to think myself to the next office on the dream list. A young woman I’ve never met is lying on the special table — I think of it as my table. The team would probably be interested in details like this — I don’t know if dream-time is at all consistent. my cock rocketing hard. with the glowing red numbers of a digital wall clock reading 5:54. though who gives a crap? It’s night in this dream office. It’s instantaneous and effortless just as before — here’s something I can do with my sleeping eyes closed. It’s a dream. I see Dr. not firemen. surrounding the building dressed in combat gear. why isn’t it changing? Could last night have been a one-time thing. it’s like heaven after hell. as this office is bright and sunny with office workers dressed in colorful garments. but it seems to be. then the conference room where they debrief me every night. Hell. Almost to pass the time. Maybe if I knew where she lived. trying to gain the attention of anybody at all. hovering inside the sleeping chamber. I think myself into the office in Perth that I failed to visit last night. Will I “wake up” inside the dream like I did the last time. in Honolulu. There are people milling about. I float back a bit. apparently throwing some sort of party. I float over to a window and look outside. no special repeatable thing going on at all. I move close to a computer screen and look at the time signature. I suddenly wake up in my apartment. I experience no confusion this time — I’m still dreaming. I could think myself there and try getting some dream sex going with her that way. and I can see soldiers. It’s an urban environment below. It occurs to me that Mary Poole could be around in this dream setting — and wouldn’t I like to try getting a dream-piece of that — so I float through the wall into the monitoring area. and floating. but no one reacts to me. Phillips. though I must have known that they’d have someone else sleeping there on a shift opposite from mine. and I start to get bored as nothing happens. or will a new dream just appear. I float down the hallways. There in a blink. passing into various offices. and without a . only I’m in bed. except that I don’t recognize these people. One building a block or more away is on fire. and this looks exactly like it did then. hanging close to walls or overturned cars with their weapons at the ready. arguing with a much taller man out in the hall. and it begins to feel weird that in real life I’m lying right there on the couch. like a scene change in a movie? I hover there anticipating the shift… Waiting for everything to change… Crap. or any other hot babe if that worked. I’m still floating in the dream version of my apartment. and others sitting in front of monitoring screens — they showed me this room during my interview. but no Mary Poole. Someone is pounding on the door. I could do the same with Anne.

“You know where my things are. “What do you want from me. and her hands rise sinuously. “I’m drenched. “You won’t even return my calls. My eyes lock on to her nipples. and how hard I am. “Can I come in?” she asks sheepishly. Damn right. anyway?” I ask. David. which I can see easily right through the damp of her top. and I’m delighted when her eyes take a reflexive peek down at the erection tenting my shorts.” she says. but don’t make any move to actually get anything. and she looks sheepish. “No… Help me pick something out. . “You don’t really want that. I can’t… I keep having these feelings. yet now you’re knocking at my door. in the bedroom.” Oh. I wonder if we’ve done the right thing. In this world. with her torso leaning forward. and I’m betting that her shorts are damp from more than the rain. but the next best thing.” I say. Sharon?” I ask. or playing hard to get. As soon as she sees my bed she sprints and flops onto it. you have no choice. bouncing on her back with her legs spread wide. girl. except that she’s sopping wet from head to foot. “About us. I’m in shorts with no shirt. “I… I’ve been thinking. “I’ve missed this!” she exclaims. fingers brushing at her hard nipples through the wet of her shirt. just like in reality. patting the mattress.” I make room and she slips by. She looks up into the mirror and sees me watching. hopefully all revved to inhale my dick. “I’m so… wet. I mean. me watching Sharon’s ass sway. unfortunately. “I think you should just leave. “Sharon. savoring my dominant position in this dream world. knowing that her pussy is stretched as wide open as a pussy can be. “Can I change into some of your clothes before we talk?” she asks. it will make my own hardness all the more delicious if I go with the latter.” Her eyes flash panic before she gathers her emotions. “I’ve… really missed you. you need that. and when I open the door I exclaim: ”Sharon! I sure didn’t expect to see you!” She’s dressed just as she was in the last dream. and smiles with her eyes going all seductive. Not real.” I say sternly.” she says. her hands becoming more active.doubt it’s going to be Sharon on the other side of that door.” She’s standing in the center of the room. under the circumstances.” she says.” I'll bet. I go to my closet.” she whispers. “What are you doing here. It occurs to me that I can play this scene one of two ways — making the seduction easy for her. The look in her eyes isn’t an act — she looks like she’s beginning to pant. this is good. Please?” We both walk down the short hallway. A glance into the dresser mirror shows me that Sharon has her legs spread completely sideways. It’s a leg-splitting yoga position I’ve seen her take before — she knows how hard it makes me. smiling the conquering smile of a woman who knows how hot her body is. “Come here. I decide that.

fingers pinching her nipples through the cotton, and pulling at them. “I… need your touch, David. I didn’t realize it at first, but I’ve longed for you, and ached for you…” She grasps the bottom of her tank top and peels it over her head, her fine breasts pointing right at me. She licks her lips and crooks a finger, patting the mattress again. “Get over here,” she softly commands. Sharon’s cheeks are so red they’re almost glowing, and though I can’t see it, I can sense that her pussy burns like a furnace. This is wonderful, better than real. “I’m not falling for this shit,” I declare, wanting to see her heat melt her composure. “If you won’t leave, I will,” and I take a couple of decisive steps towards the hallway. “No!” she cries out, leaping off the bed. “Oh God no, please, I…” “You what?” I demand, turning on her. “I…” Her mouth works nervously, like she can already feel my cock filling it. “I… need…” “You need what?” “You! I need you!” “You should have thought of that months ago, shouldn’t you?” I say, turning away. She grabs my wrist, pulling hard. “No! Don’t leave! I’ll… You always liked it when I…” She’s already on her knees, unzipping me. “Give me one good reason why I should let you,” I say, my words betrayed by the pulsing in my cock. It’s all bravado, even to me now, because she has me pulled out, and she’s rolling my fat cock in her warm hands. “Because… it will be the best one ever, I promise,” she whispers, her tongue reaching out to circle around my cock-head. Oh Jeeeezus. It isn’t real, but everything about it is as real as real, from the liquid velvet texture of her tongue to the little slurping sounds as she draws me inside, swirling hot saliva around and around. She slides me out, planting full-lipped kisses up and down the length of me. “Oh God, your cock!” she cries wetly. “It’s so… I need it, I need it!” And suddenly I’m back inside, feeling her begin to suck in earnest. I grab a clump of her dark hair and pull slightly, and her eyes widen in panic, like she thinks I’m going to make her stop. “You can’t get enough of this, can you?” I ask, and she shakes her head vigorously, a strange mewing sound added to her sucking. I can see the need in her eyes, like she’s driven in ways she can’t even understand. She desperately needs my cum, and I’m getting a blowjob unlike any I ever got from Sharon or any other girl. It’s more about her need than my pleasure, like her mouth is being driven by an engine. Seeing this kind of crazed lost insane need is like a tonic — I have the sense that my cock is expanding more than it can in real life, like the more Sharon sucks the bigger I get, and the more the pressure builds, so much, so insanely intense…

“Jesus Christ!” I yell as she switches into yet another gear. With frantic muffled crazed screams coming from deep within Sharon’s throat, I can barely breathe as my load is forcefully reverse-catapulted up and out, out of me and into her. I see stars dancing on my eyelids, light flashing with a strobe effect and the sounds of my soul crashing into a thousand pieces. I shudder, gasp, my load vacuumed out and away, and all the while Sharon keeps sucking like she’s become a machine stuck on a suck setting, like there’s nothing left of her but the need to suck and suck and suck… I wake up on my sofa, spurting into my shorts. I’m disoriented, breathless, almost delirious from the force of coming. I lay there panting, thunder cracking as true wakefulness gradually blows through me. Holy fucking shit, what have I stirred up inside my brain? Once I stop panting I have to laugh, because in reality my love life totally sucks. I can’t sleep my life away, and too bad — that’s where the action is, and there I can turn a woman into a pucker-cheeked vacuum, able and willing to suck harder than the harshest reality. I close my eyes, and try to relax, and wonder if I can fall asleep again. And if I can, what girl I might get to fuck next.

Interlude — Gina Marie Hurts
She had to get out of bed; she just had to. Rising to a sitting position, she swung her legs sideways, and worked to breathe normally. She glanced at the clock — there was still plenty of time to get to her one o’clock appointment, the showing of the Del Monte property. She just had to stop… thinking… about… sex! It had to be some sort of emotional breakdown she was experiencing — never in her life had Gina been overcome with such vivid fantasies, and such overpowering drives. She had awakened early, with three fingers jammed inside her pussy, gasping for air. Shocked, drowsy, she’d slipped her fingers out… and then back in, deeper. She stood, and walked a bit unsteadily to the bathroom, and started from her reflection. The Gina reflected in the mirror looked unfamiliar, her expression like a woman who belonged in an asylum for nymphomaniacs. It was something in the eyes — they were wild, untamed, ravenous. She’d only seen eyes like that once in her life, and they were yellow-green slits because they belonged to a female cat, in heat. With her arms braced on the porcelain sink to support her weight, she shook her head vigorously, like that might rearrange her pupils and recreate the Gina that should be looking back from in the mirror. It didn’t work, and she didn’t think she could keep standing. She slowly collapsed onto the toilet, head in hands. It had all felt so real, so incredibly real. Could it be a memory she’d somehow repressed, resurfacing as a dream in the night? Otherwise, why on earth would she have a sex dream about David Sand? She knew she made him horny back then, back when she called herself Gina Marie. They all got horny over her tits, here in Denver or back there where she’d grown up. She’d caught David staring at her plenty of times, and she might have even deliberately teased him, showing a little extra every now and then just to watch him melt. But she’d never met him in the night, in a negligee, her nipples straining on the porch steps… Had she? She suddenly saw it all again, and her legs spread as if of their own accord, the fingertips of both hands already gliding upon her aching wet need. She saw herself in her parents’ rec room, stripping out of her negligee by candlelight, straddling him on the sofa…

“Oh God!” She had to stop this, it was crazy. She’d already Googled him, digging up his information and dialing his number. Only an answering machine, but the sound of his voice had been like gasoline siphoned inside her pussy, and her fingers didn’t hesitate to light a match, flicking and stroking and dabbing and plumbing… She groaned a groan that reverberated on the bathroom walls, her entire body quivering. This just couldn’t be happening; her libido had never been this out of control even during actual sex. But the images were there, and the urges were more than urges. She needed those hands kneading her breasts, and his dick — that dick — sliding against the walls of her pussy. She needed it, she needed it! "I don't need it!" she asserted. But she did. “What’s… the matter with me?” her voice echoed in the small room. “I’m… Oh God, oh no, oh yes, oh fucking yesss…” She would masturbate until she lay exhausted and shaking on the tile floor if she didn’t do something. Like changing a channel, she tried to shut off the thoughts of sex with him. No relief, because her mind skipped right into images of Nicole Dampley, her old high school friend. They’d only touched bases a few times since then — Nicole had gone to Rutgers, and still lived in New Jersey. They didn’t talk now, but they were Facebook friends, so they could reconnect, and meet. Meet and… what? The answer was there, throbbing right at the mouth of her vagina. It was there in the hardness of her nipples, and she could almost taste salty Nicole-sweat on the tip of her tongue. “No!” she shouted at the bathroom ceiling. But she could see Nicole so vividly, all taut with long graceful legs, and between those legs a pussy that might also throb, needing to be touched, and tasted. Gina had experimented with a girl and kind of liked it, but that had been in college. That girl — Dana — hadn’t been as lovely and willowy as Nicole, and Nicole’s boobs were much better, big pillowy tits she could squeeze in her hands. She could just imagine the wet glistening folds of Nicole’s pussy all pink and swollen, waiting, inviting, hungry for her fingers, begging for her tongue. Hadn’t Nicole almost worshipped her back in high school? If only she had touched Nicole’s lips with her fingers, and stared longingly into her brown eyes, her hands gliding down to cup her breasts, fondling and urging. Nicole would have done anything the old Gina Marie asked, she was sure of it. Even that, she knew it. She should have. She could have, but never realized how badly she needed to. Until now. Now… “Oh Nicole,” she exhaled, giving in to the images, seeing herself, tonight, knocking at her old friend’s apartment door. Nicole would answer with a bright smile, and how long would it take to turn that smile into a puckering oval of lust, lips pressed to lips, nipples pressing nipples, fingers exploring, teasing, entering… “Oh God, I need it!” she cried out. “I need him! I need her! I… I need them!” She’d call David Sand again, and Nicole. Whichever one answered first, they would get her first, cramming her huge boobs into them, not taking “no” for an answer. It would mean a flight back east, the earliest flight she could get… “This is crazy!” She gritted her teeth, and willed her hands away from her inner thighs. “I… don’t need… David Sand’s thing!” she gasp-mumbled, staring up at the white ceiling. “I don’t… want… Nicole! I don’t, I don’t…” But she did. One finger for David, and one finger for Nicole, probing, gliding fluidly inside…

if they cut me loose from the dream project. perhaps tonight. But I couldn’t do any of that without first achieving the lucid state. the light body or whatever that can fly around and implant sexual desires into the women populating the dream landscape. yes!” . I’m right. soaking up the rain-washed evening air. she’ll never know. and I go bold for a change. Women Panting The air is crisp and clear after the line of severe storms passes. winning a few quarters off of guys whose game is only a fraction as good as they think it is. or even the destination. Sometimes real money sits on the side of the table. like I’ve already taken the first steps on some kind of inescapable journey. the inner feminine self that Carl Jung wrote so much about. Nicole! Don't stop. but it will be months before I can test myself again with the after-midnight crowd. I could be hustling for desperately needed cash tomorrow night. and I’ve spent far too many hours in smoky rooms like this. going so far as to say. Being parts of my dream. too — it’s like a piece of my own psyche has decided to take a certain form and help me out. especially when my appetite is geared towards the contents of tight orange shorts. Isn’t it just a further step in what millions of people do every day. I come to no conclusions. and try to have a better relationship with her. and I’ll get to hear her “You wish” transformed into “Oh God. As expected. If Bobbi feverishly sucks my cock tonight. though — Bobbi — and I make mental notes about every detail of her anatomy. I already miss my old routine. David! Oh God. I will. She spoke about a door being opened. I meander around the Inner Harbor on my bike. the books say that these women are actually me. so I leave the pool hall and go back to my computer. I enjoy a high stakes game. flirting with her when she takes my order."Oh my God. I’ve focused solely on me. “You wish” with a fake smile. and remaining cool even when the best laid plans roll horribly wrong. skimming through whatever I can find about dream guides. Very circular. it’s the late night players who know how to control a cue ball. don't stop!" Chapter Four — No Pants. where I’m pretty sure a particular redhead with a firm ass and sleek thighs will serve me. is a distinct possibility. and twice now a woman I feel attraction for has guided me to that realization. I don’t know whether this is pathetic or quietly brilliant. hoping beyond hope that I’ll see Bobbi again. and the tension can be thicker than a Baltimore beer gut. and a bridge to be crossed. thinking briefly about how they’d love to get inside of so-and-so’s pants? Everybody fantasizes — at least I assume they do — and this is much the same. Where I live. That’s when I realize what I’m actually doing — collecting data for potential dreams. There’s a Hooters restaurant right in the thick of the tourist area. I fear. perfecting my stroke. she rolls her eyes in response. Playing pool helps me to think — it has something to do with gauging angles and probabilities. or me. and I’ve been known to grab a beer and wings there. I'm not sure what that means — it’s like that talk with Millie caused a metaphor from my childhood to be re-awakened. Today I see that I’ve missed a key element when it comes to understanding these sex dreams. and I spend an hour at a nearby pool hall. Which. then again. Lots of new-age crap again. or it. in circumstances where everything under those orange shorts is mine for the taking. Today I sit at an outdoor table. and what does it say when I ended up manipulating my guide into having sex with me this time? Am I almost literally fucking myself in that situation? It’s too convoluted to even think about. only with the possibility of a totally convincing high-def encounter when I fall asleep. and a ton of stuff about the anima. but see the need to do as dream-Sharon said. I have this sense that much more is cooking inside than I'm aware of yet. even if I don’t know the exact reasons for traveling. I got her name. With only a couple of hours before I’m due at the facility. and it seems to want me to be a more active participant in my own dreaming. though.

I knew it was going to happen. We already know you’ve broken your promise to be forthright with us. Every detail. it’s Dr. I maintain my calm by continuing my private anatomy memorization. Phillips’ turn again. Phillips and Eduardo give me the dreaded stern looks as I’m ushered into the conference room. “Tell us what you saw and experienced when you flew into space. David. where I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a second asshole reamed into me for lying about last night’s dream. As she slaps my ego around. tall heels easing into pantyhose that shimmers nicely. I’ll understand if you want me to leave the program. thank you Mary Poole. and how much pertains to the bras she wears. I went to the Perth and Honolulu offices this time. and it’s Eduardo who states the obvious: “It would not help your case to invent another lucid dream. nothing left out this time. and the numbers bring a tightening in my stomach. It’s nervousness about seeing Dr. I don’t say one word as they vent their disappointment. and I went on to the other two offices to try to make amends. I sit. but I’d bet anything that Mary is on the other side of the glass. David. If nothing else. “Sit. witnessing everything. looks more like a leggy schoolmarm than a fashion model today. "And I’m not inventing today’s dream. beginning my prepared speech.” she points to the most uncomfortable chair in the room. I’d like to tell you the details before you let me go.” I’m not surprised when they leave the room. Don’t tempt us into taking sterner measures. even so. We are not playing around. I can’t know for certain. and study the way her tits project out from her torso.” Stern-assed motherfucker. When she’s done venting. do you understand?” . but let me tell you about this afternoon’s lucid dream first.” “I feel awful for holding back on you. I wonder how she feels about it. They exchange glances. I’d like to know why we should even consider the possibility of keeping you on here. and you’ve proven yourself talented but untrustworthy. and I wonder if it’s a positive sign that they bring me a glass of water. trying to decide how much of that is her own shape. “I lost my focus in the dream and compounded the problem by letting embarrassment trump candor. her face darkened with anger. and I’m careful to keep my gaze on the floor after that. Anne’s legs are especially fetching today. I fell asleep at home and achieved the lucid state again. and work to look appropriately shamed as they go at me hard for neglecting to tell them how I flew into outer space in last night’s dream. Anne still looks sexy even with today's stern eyebrows and firm lips." I answer evenly. her voice still hard. “Let’s begin with last night’s dream. “I know that.” I seize the moment.I look at my watch. “What are you smiling about?” she snaps.” Anne says. Anne and the others at work.” Everything comes to a screeching halt. and Anne. I sneak detail-absorbing glances at her legs. and whether she’d care either way if they sent me packing or let me stay. and I make a silent vow to turn that scolding face into a mask of sheer animal lust the next time I enter the lucid state. believe me. It’s time to go. and what is there to do but show up and take the heat? Dr. deciding privately what to do with me. and he frames my transgression in the simplest of terms: “This entire experiment is based on receiving accurate information from our test subjects. The team files in after about ten minutes.

hoping to find a hot woman to dream-seduce. with true elements sandwiched between Sharon’s entrance and a sanitized ending. When I’m done. and do as Dr. the time of day as it appeared on the wall clock and the computer monitor. please. and I sit there for a long time. memories of the day’s dream playing lightly through my mind. Tell us if you recognize anything else. Phillips explains. looking like a fashion model again. and describe my space trek.I nod. They engage in another argument about what sort of figure Sharon is. right? We go on. because these are photographs of people now. “Keep scanning the photos. not expecting to recognize anything. and there’s no way I’m going to admit that I worked to create another sexual conquest while in the lucid state.” Anything quickly shifts to anyone. her voice soothing. God knows why. Then it’s on to today’s dream. wanting a description of its shape and size.” I say. without really intending to. its color and markings.” I begin to flip through the photos quickly. It's a shortened dream that I give them. everything. I look at each face in turn. “See if you recognize any of these orbiting devices. and it’s the stuff about Perth and Honolulu that they care about the most. this one. much shorter. wondering if they’re putting me on. “Just humor us. “Keep going. from lounging on clouds above my hometown to seeing the satellite. I thought hard about this throughout the afternoon. “It was a dream. Phillips coughs ashes from his pipe when I describe seeing him out in the hallway arguing with a taller man. the office party in Hawaii. anything and everything I can remember. I don’t say that I was looking around for Mary Poole or even Anne. . Why bother to argue if I’m making it up. “His haircut is different here.” “We know. They get hung up on the satellite for a while. I eventually recognize a guy that I think I’ve seen at the security desk in the lobby of this building. where I hold back quite a bit of information. but…” “All the way to the last photo. Anne hands me a thick stack of 8 x 10 glossy photographs. At about the sixth one. and the attempt to fly beyond. they all leave the room again. I stop. But I recount the rest of it.” Anne replies. and I’m staring at her legs when she says. She’s begun to pace like I’ve seen before. any anger long evaporated.” Anne smiles reassuringly. this is the freezing guy in the London office!” I can’t help exclaiming when I see the familiar face. When they return.” Dr. “That’s it. almost an hour.” Dr. Phillips instructs.” I say. which feels like a positive sign. “I wasn’t actually up there with a real satellite. “This is the young woman lying on the table in the sleeping chamber from today’s dream. David. and Dr. and that I succeeded. Phillips urges. “Well I’ll be damned. Phillips wishes. The ones on top are all photos or illustrations of satellites. please.” Dr. They have me repeat the details of what I saw several times — the fires and soldiers in Perth.” “Hey. David. Only… how could I dream about an actual thing that I’ve never seen?” “We’ve all been exposed to more than the conscious mind remembers. and then… “This girl… Where did I see her?” I close my eyes. I sense a shift in the atmosphere when I tell them that I came to this very facility in the dream.

I’ll have to practice restraint. as usual. answering my question without knowing it. I need to remember that they have a window right into the heart of my brain and body. rather than implanting a narrative where she has to fuck me half to death. but I am. I could go halfway. Maybe I’ll just “relate with” any hot babe in my dream.” “A Dr. making the woman need me to go down on her. *** The team obviously believes in the second lucid dream when I’m put to “bed” in my high tech p. no one seems to be staring or upset. and I see enough of her thighs to hope that she appears in my dreams without delay. the tall man arguing with Dr. So they’re going to want me to sleep on the table. Looking around. “Abusing” the lucid-dreaming state and losing my load in front of a dozen witnesses is not going to play well with these stiffs. No soda. I need to ask any anima-type woman what she wants from me. though. because I’m not wearing any pants. Tempting as some of them are. because Nicole nods her head like she understands. but here I am. and then take any dream sex at a measured pace. “I. especially if it’s two nights in a row.s. meaning I’ve evolved the direction of their research. Phillips out in the hallway. so I can at least taste some pussy tonight. Pepper?” I venture. or did she ask me? “Thanks for agreeing to meet me here. I shouldn’t be thinking about women I might fuck in the night. I feel pretty smug lying there on the sleeping table. And I don’t think I should go all the way with anybody in my sleep tonight should it be possible. Better yet. but Nicole must know. or outright fantasize about what I’d like to do. She nods towards the door and everybody gets up to leave again.” she smiles. I need to do their work first.” Eduardo dismisses as the door latches behind them. I wiggle my toes. “Anything to eat? This might take a bit of time. I experience an alarming gap in my memory — I don’t remember how we ended up here together.” It’s such a lame excuse — who forgets to put on pants and underwear before leaving the house? I think she’s falling for it. or be creative in some other way if I want to get my kicks. getting these flashes of all the pussies that might be available to me tonight. “David… Would you like something more to drink?” she asks on the way out. I don’t fixate on any one woman. I’m not sure how I was able to enter this restaurant with my business uncovered and swinging free. not when every tiny change in my brain or body chemistry can be read and interpreted. ironically by breaking the rules. . Did I ask her out. um… I must have been in a hurry to get here. They give me new instructions — I’m supposed to go satellite hopping now if I come to awareness in my dream state.I only recognize one more.j. I shouldn’t be. “With ice. her eyes smiling. but fuck it — mission accomplished. confirming that I’m not even wearing shoes. “Forgot something tonight?” she asks. and a little hyper.” “Too much caffeine. I need to pull my chair closer to the table. Anne whirls to fix her gaze on her comrades when I point him out. I know there must have been no such plans to begin with. I still have a job. endeavoring to remember anything I can about the shapes and markings of the satellites I encounter.

but she has gracefully pronounced girl-muscles. touching one of her knees. I drink in her lovely features. “Like there could be any other outcome whenever we touch each other. and time has been more than kind to her.” Her foot glides an inch or two up my thigh. “Doing something twice isn’t the same as being able to do it all the time. wonderfully shaped and long. “David. Heartbeat rising. I’m not surprised that Nicole knows how much her body turns me on — she caught me checking her out a couple of times in classes. she isn’t wearing anything at all below the waist. She obviously works out a lot. You might ignite a woman without even knowing you’ve done it. Not so much that her physique has lost its curves. “Here’s a question that says something about where we are right now. you don’t have the foggiest idea how much trouble this could stir up. and my eyes sweep down to what I can see of her body. and will I get in trouble for blabbing about it? “Trouble?” she laughs. Actually. You’re a rogue comet. It occurs to me then — how do I know that Nicole isn’t like me? As far as I know. until it’s resting above my knee. I move my own foot in response. and it must be that she sought me out. “You know you have inherent talent. isn’t it?” .” she whispers. The heart-shaped jaw and high cheekbones are those of an adult now. This girl had the best legs in high school. and licks her lips. already altering the orbits of two worlds. And after tonight.” she chides. Nicole is wearing a sleeveless blouse. “Driving your own dreams. because now I have a raging hard-on. It’s only a matter of time. and that’s all. but I don’t see how she could know that. “If I know you.” her thoughts seem to mimic mine. “’Back then’ is a deeper concept than you realize.” she explains. But don’t you think it’s a bit odd that you have the keys to the dream-car every time you fall asleep now?” “It’s only happened twice. and I think I can see her lips growing more full right in front of my eyes.This is good — I haven’t even seen Nicole since high school ended. When did I tell her. isn’t it?” she teases. you know. Can cats climb trees?” I get her point. “You’re going to get me going if you keep staring at me like that. and always have. and I think I do feel the texture of nylon against my flesh. I’m surprised that Nicole knows about the dream research at all. “Being desperate for sex can be contagious.” I can’t help jerking when I feel a bare foot touch my right shin. if I know you. “That’s kind of up to you.” I correct her. tonight: How much of this do you think you’re doing all by yourself?” I stare at Nicole without comprehension. three. She sips red wine from a wide glass. and her foot suddenly glides up until it’s planted flat onto my erection. and that’s without even being able to see her legs under the table. and I think I love her arms just as much as her full breasts. kind of like Anne’s. Again I adjust my chair forward.” “A cat climbs a tree twice. Is this really happening? The foot moves higher. I’m probably wearing seamed stockings. and it’s all smoothed into an even better looking woman than the teen I knew back then.

She wiggles her toes and I gasp. I’m going to have to fuck this woman. chills shooting through me.” Nicole sounds like she’s been reading Confucius. feeling myself twitch against her. has to do with Nicole’s foot action on my very excited dick. You’ll get what you want anyway. “There isn’t much time. And there’s no need. “I’m talking about the union of this and this. You really are naked. you know that. though. I bring a hand under the table and find the foot and the finely muscled calf attached to it definitely sheathed in fine nylon. with everybody watching? “That’s the one thing you mustn’t do tonight.” In here… She means the sleeping chamber. You have dreams to come.” she replies. They’ve changed everything. “Why… can’t you just come out and say what you mean?” I gasp. The doorway is open. but right here.” she says.” "W…where does it lead?" I ask.” All this talk about doorways. you’ll need to unify the energy of this and this. sooner than you can imagine. “What do you want from me?” I ask. or the coming that might be trouble. half from the rubbing on my cock.” This is an anima figure — no different than Sharon last night. “I’m talking about a door that’s been opened. The snake eats it's own tail. Sharon's eyes narrow. with the team monitoring me even as we speak. but it’s good to see that you’re catching on. “That’s right. and I could swear I see a world of sex beaming out of her eyes. See? We’re relating. and now everything can be changed. Do you understand what I’m saying? You must go where the bridge leads. warm nylon gliding up and down my pole. And relationship. . and I feel two feet on my cock now. “I get this feeling that you want me to do something in particular. or Sophie the night before. with light pouring into darkened cells. only in a new form. the bottom of her foot manipulating my hard dick more forcefully.” “Ultimately.” “W…what on earth are you talking about?” I breathe out. or speaking in impossible riddles. half because she’s either talking nonsense. and completely vulnerable in here. “More trouble to come." I groan. though the bridge is wide. “That’s so beautiful. Always remember how naked you are in front of them. The only trouble I see coming. like my dick has become the meat in a foot sandwich. seems to be the key. Why do these dream women keep going off about… “Oh fuck! I’m dreaming again! You aren’t really Nicole!” “That isn’t entirely true.” she whispers. and she looks completely serious when she answers: "Pennsylvania.” she whispers. and I don’t know how much more foot action I can take without totally losing it. and come in your dreams. “Trouble is coming. and it's all so true. Coming is trouble. whatever that means to her.

She’s not helping if my readings are supposed to remain calm. and suddenly it happens. There should be time for both work and play. mostly lured by curiosity. and it still amazes me how my light body can move through space as though distance doesn’t even exist. and at the same instant that I think I should take care of my satellite chores. I’m sure. I remind myself. I orient myself by seeing the North American continent below. aren’t we?” Nicole winks. “Don’t forget how naked you are. The Australia of this dream looks as distressed as the real place. my official duties done for the night. go back inside that me and risk another pajama accident. she’s already all over my cock — it’s hardly like she needs additional encouragement. “We’re ahead of schedule tonight. It’s more like a detailed depiction created by my mind. and there is a strong pull to be back in the restaurant. It’s a different kind of pull this time. and one by one I visit them. It's my dick. drifting eastward on lazy winds. having nothing to do with flying too far. any markings. which is surely connected to the functioning of the real thing. Scanning the starry vacuum around me. or aim desires into Nicole and see if anything changes? In this dream. or my dream-dick. We are. where they are situated in relation to each other. trying to memorize the details of their design and shapes. . They’re there right now. I see Nicole look up at me. monitoring my body with their exquisitely sensitive instruments.” Nicole reminds me. and I know I have to do something to shake up this dream. large winged devices positioned above the western part of the continent. That’s the signaling device in the sleeping chamber. I’m more than happy to think myself back to the restaurant with Nicole. From the open-mouthed expression on “my” face down below. and seeing the disaster brings a feeling of sadness to the dream. she blows me a little kiss. It’s totally convincing.“Why do Spaniards speak Spanish?” she challenges back with a sly smile. though. and I choose Australia next. “Back so soon?” she questions as I hover above our table. I see several flashes that I recognize as sunlight glinting on metal or other man-made materials. and everything to do with Nicole’s stocking-sheathed feet teasing my erection. like my light body is in its element. Satellites all. otherwise I’m going to come in my government pajamas again with the whole team watching. I know this isn’t the real post-2/18 Australia below me. but it's no big deal at all. I hear a siren approaching outside — wait. trying to help me begin lucid-dreaming. and for the hell of it I decide that I want to be over the Middle East tonight. What do I do. anything that I can later recount to the team. I don’t know what the point is. Maybe I should be amazed to be up here in outer space so suddenly. that version of me still has two silky feet wrapped around his dick. except that her foot-rub on my cock has that part of me going in the opposite direction of being frustrated. I think about lifting out of my body. with fully half the continent obscured by the smoke of countless fires. My own exquisitely sensitive instrument is only a few foot rubs from blast-off. I only come across three satellites here. and I find myself high above the earth before I even know that I fully thought about being here. It happens effortlessly. the pulsing is wrong. I feel myself getting frustrated. and I guess I’ve heard enough about current events that the world below reflects that piteous state.

mouth open.” I declare. there won’t even be a need for the dream to switch for sex to commence. all-encompassing. but the preview I’m getting of Nicole’s hyper-lust sure does seem to be. to fuck her with your fingers. “More! Oh please. with a set of whopping boobs bouncing through? Nicole glances down. This is a surprising evolution of the lucid experience. And awaiting Gina Marie — don’t forget. to taste her boobs and her nipples. Fuck them — they aren’t real. her eyes shut. and now she beams her need right into me. right where she would see the other me’s aching erection if she had X-ray vision. “Oh God.” Fuck. my tongue nibbling your clit.” “Oh David!” she cries out. She looks half-crazed with the lust. "Waves bringing in the desperate need to feel my tongue on your clitoris. It’s primal. why not the one over there. “You’re pussy also aches for Gina Marie Hurt’s touch. She’s begun to gasp for air. and I’m almost certain that she’s mentally measuring the amount of space beneath our table. “Oh yes!” she cries. Nicole’s eyes are wide and wild. to grind cunt against cunt. my fingers and my cock entering you. the scent of her wet pussy almost like a cloud enveloping our table. we’re taking requests now? Nicole leans her head and upper body back. looking like she just wants to drink it all in. or come jigglng through the door of the restaurant? If a door is going to open." I continue. and I see that her heat has attracted the staring of most of the people in the restaurant. the one with the dick that can dream-fuck her. “It’s like waves washing into your pussy. Gina Marie wanted Nicole the other night. eat me.” “Uh! Oh God. opening her arms like she’s presenting herself as a target. You’re dying to get it on with her. though? It’s like she said — she’s the clay. and you have to get clay wet to manipulate it. right before diving under the table. like maybe she knows that if I make her horny for Gina Marie. and maybe a new dream will appear where I get that threesome going after all. Into me. I feel two hot hands wrap . just saying the words out loud. “Your pussy will feel no peace until you get my lips are planted on it. I merge back into my other self. Nicole. yes!” Nicole bellows. having a dream woman offering her mind and body to my hormone-driven interventions. as wet as can be. which is a new wrinkle. What the hell. except sex with David Sand. It’s all she needs to say — I don’t think I’ve seen an expression of lust more beautiful in my life. And I want nothing more than to make dreambabes like Nicole wet. so now Nicole wants to want Gina Marie — it makes as much sense as anything else. eat me!” she implores. the me up here. Nothing is hotter than sex with Gina Marie. wondering if we can get it on down there. “Please!” is all she says.“Don’t hold back. Will Gina Marie just appear. “I’m wet clay awaiting the sculptor’s skilled hands.” she addresses my floating form. and I want it aimed at the other me. “You need me to eat your pussy. and immediately feel the sensation of her silken feet squeezing hard at my cock. it will complete some kind of dream circuit. too!” I feel like she’s leading me in what might be a profound way. more! Give me Gina Marie. please.” I have the feeling that if I go back inside my other body.

saturated with the smell of drenched pussy. while they see me doing it out here in real life. invisibly monitoring all there is to be monitored about my brain and body in the adjoining room. “Do me!” she snaps. “David. We don’t know why. with Nicole deciding to explore the nakedness of my lower half with her feet. Yes. “Oh God. pulsing like another ten seconds of dream time would have led to blast-off. Twice now we’ve seen a surprising spike in brain activity when you return to the scene you left behind. pretty sure that a few of them belong in a Dr. I think. But something… unexpected. where Nicole again attacked my privates with her feet. I conclude with the joining of my two dream bodies in the restaurant. not a science journal. eventually waking me up. the air moist and thick. watching my brain light up and scratching their heads. but it helps that I didn’t cream my pants as I slept. whether you felt . I change the content of our actual conversation to reminiscing about high school. if it’s the two of them I’m dream-seducing in my head. How beautiful. I can taste Nicole already. the unusual light show happening inside my head. Could you tell us what you experienced in this recent dream. smiling at the glass as an attendant opens the chamber door. I grasp her thighs tightly. *** The debriefing in the conference room runs smoothly this time. Suess book. and they’re only too happy that I managed to fulfill my satellite chores. I can picture Mary Poole and Dr. her pussy and my tongue on twin missions.around my cock. I give the team the gist of the dream — Nicole Dampley and me at a restaurant. I want you to think very carefully about something. and bury my head between them. No one chuckles or even raises an eyebrow at the foot-play stuff — it was a dream. Almost like getting a glimpse of the future. without really describing it. right at the point when you rejoined your other dream body?” “Like…” “Your emotional state. what you were thinking when you saw the other you again. me with no pants on. inside the sleeping chamber. pressing my mouth hard against this boiling cauldron of a pussy I’ve created. I only become concerned once. happens afterwards. when Anne mentions. I have no choice but to go down. Anne monitoring my vital signs. down between two well-muscled thighs spread wide. Really awaken. I describe everything I remember about the orbiting thingamabobs I scrutinized. and she yanks. gulping in oxygen with my cock swollen hard. Maybe next time. For some reason the very first thing I think of is Mary Poole. dream sex can be napalm hot. and what kinds of crazy shit would appear if everybody in the room had theirs examined? I feel like my story is consistent enough with their readings that I’m covered. It isn’t that I practice anything like full disclosure. swiping a deep swipe. remembering her questions. drinking in her heat… And then I awaken with a gasp. eat me! Eat me now! You have to eat me!” Will they see that the dream has become about pure sex on their monitors? Fuck it. You go flying off. I think. hard. and we believe we’ve pinpointed certain physiological markers corresponding to that activity.

“It was weird seeing your head light up again. I want to get to know Mary better. “Like you said. I confess that I did have one yesterday. and work to keep my voice level when I ask: “Do the others agree with you?” . “I’ll try to stop doing it if it bothers you. It’s a little later than usual when I finally leave the facility. What she did is no big deal. or professional curiosity. “I’m glad that everything worked out. I use what Anne just gave me. my head scanned by magnetism or soundwaves or whatever. I didn’t know he could do that!” “That’s good. David.” she begins. which becomes uncomfortable. it all worked out. Please don’t feel that I… I had to tell them about your space travel last night. “We want to know what your thoughts were focused on immediately after your satellite visits.” Eduardo asserts more gruffly.” “I see that. I’m almost at my bike when I hear footsteps behind. or if she’s fishing for information.” she says. but her expression quickly shifts to a more serious look. especially when they know I returned to my other body to be the recipient of Nicole’s ongoing foot-job. When I’m asked whether I’ve experienced any headaches recently. a bit breathless. It takes some self-discipline to keep from laying it on too thick — no need to appear like a dream boy scout. I can tell by the way Anne doesn’t pace that what I’ve described is acceptable. Eduardo hung out in the control room most of the night. I can’t tell whether she’s expressing concern. because my answer results in an hour or more inside of a gleaming metal tube. you must see that.” She’s asking for forgiveness. I feel my heart beating in my chest. it’s hard to be mad at a woman who looks so yummy.relieved or excited after flying… Anything?” “It’s related to intense concentration.” I say. and I think she can sense me thinking that. but I’d swear the sounds of distant traffic just came to a halt. keeping things light.” It’s only a single word spoken softly. twice reminding me about being naked and vulnerable in front of the team. as opposed to the imagined ones. There’s no way I’m publicly copping to that — even dream-Nicole agreed with this decision. and he was smiling. describing in an intentionally abstract way how I experienced a heightened sense of accomplishment and excitement after flying around so easily.” They’re talking about the time when I grafted a desperate need for my tongue onto Nicole’s pussy. and turn to see Mary Poole running towards me.” “I know. I mean. which I could see taking effect right in front of my eyes this time. “I just wanted to say. Fuck me for telling the truth this time. although they do send me down the hall to be poked and prodded by three doctors before calling it a night.” I answer. “I just don’t know how you do that!” Like before. They’re very excited. besides. She laughs. They even want me to fly into outer space now. like the whole world wants to listen in. acutely aware of how nice it feels to be around this real girl. “I have my own opinion of what you were thinking about when your brain lit up.” “Oh? And what would that be?” “Sex.

or what they look like? You’re no expert. Another explanation involves your tapping into a sort of group consciousness in a state of deep sleep — you’d know about that satellite because others know about it. almost daring her to say more. and knowledge gets blended together on wavelengths we don’t or can’t recognize. meaning they aren’t as concerned with others. “That my mind tapped into Joe NASA’s mind while I slept? It sounds kind of like a crock.” So Mary is the whiz kid when it comes to interpreting my vital signs.” “Think about the satellites you visited.“The others are fixated on what you observe when you go flying around. whether the others know it or not. and to my eyes the readings don’t lie. She’s as smart as she is beautiful. I see other things. they’ve been doing that a lot lately. They see some things. “Then again. and ask: “Is the team… you know. “What do they learn if I pretend teleport to a pretend version of an actual place?” “I’m not entirely sure.” she jokes. you should know that. You were thinking about sex right before your brain did its glowing business this time. I don’t know. huh? That’s what lights up a guy’s brain?” I feel my cheeks redden — come to think of it. and how we can know many things that we shouldn’t know. She doesn’t back down. none of them are coming anywhere near the lucid state.” Mary answers. The point is that the others are focused on certain aspects of the research.” “Honestly. but I think you might have even gotten the position of that particular satellite correct. like she practically has my number when it comes to dream sex. I’m not sure. I look into her eyes. Yet you identified an actual satellite from the other night’s dream — I'm not certain. “Big boobs and under the table foot-jobs from former high school cheerleaders. that you did. so your dream-satellites should be about as accurate as a child’s stick figure. without remembering. “We guys can dream. upset. One explanation is that you’ve seen photos of that satellite before.” “Do you believe that?” I ask.” I ignore that one.” “Gotta take the bad with the good. I think Mary might be a rebel at heart. and intuitive. can’t we? Cheerleaders are powerful symbols. consciously.” She smiles. trying to change the subject. by the nature of my last two dreams?” “None of our other test subjects have dreams as frisky as yours. thank God. “Another week of monitoring your dreams and I’ll know the perfect girl to hook you up with.” “What’s the point of all that. right?” “Oh. “Only I don’t think I know any role-playing call girls. Their dreams are useless until they do. which I find additionally attractive. Maybe you were thinking about sex during the time it glowed. exactly? How do you know I don’t have fun watching your hormone levels shoot up like fireworks?” I’m the one laughing now. too.” “You’ve lost me. Where is the bad. What do you know about satellites. I take . Mary?” I ask. I think it has to do with the collective unconscious.

” “What was she trying to tell me? She speaks English as well as I do — she’s me.” “How do you find the meaning. Telling the dream to someone can help. you know a lot about the anima. or ‘there’s a bridge to be crossed’…” “It would have nothing to do with a literal doorway or a literal bridge. “Mary. I remember a dream of my own.” I spin. that ‘bats’ is the mirror of ‘stab’. In her world — your anima’s world — it is the perfect answer. or shoving the truth right in your face in a way you have to ponder to recognize. Why? Your footsy girl wasn’t an anima figure. It wasn’t until I wrote the dream down that I saw it.” Mary giggles. There would be a deeper — or at least an indirect — meaning behind the message. Only she kept talking in riddles — I even asked her why she kept doing that. then. how it behaves in dreams and all that?” I’ve intrigued her. He turned to me and proclaimed: ‘I’m Bats Man!’ and then ran off. and she gave me the weirdest answer. as you already know. She’s a personal metaphor. making these clever riddles. I remember something from the most recent dream that I need help with. that expects communication in the language you’re most comfortable with. I couldn’t figure it out — did he mean to say that he was Batman.” she says. if it’s like translating a language that you don’t really know?” “It’s tricky. after all — so why does it come out so convoluted?” “Think of it this way — your anima isn’t a real woman.” .a deep breath before venturing: “Breakfast? My turn to treat. a rather grisly one. Sometimes the words you choose in recounting the dream come from the same part of the mind that did the dreaming. It just isn’t in her nature. I didn’t know it then. Dreams will do that all the time. but I think I was having a lengthy discussion with an anima figure in the dream.” It is what I’m thinking.” “I… can’t. and takes practice. your regular mind. David.” “So if she said something like ‘a doorway is open’. although the others would know much more. or you might see a pattern in front of your eyes that escaped you before. “The conversation made me remember a dream I had a few years ago. given life by your psyche in a particular state of deep sleep. because Bats Man just didn’t make any logical sense. “That’s really a wonderful story.” “Which was?” “She said. and she has no business saying much of anything directly. The way that we’re talking right now belongs to the waking world — it isn’t native to the subconscious mind. “Anne and the others were talking a lot about the anima yesterday morning. right? How to recognize it. Or just writing it down. and her mouth crinkles adorably before adding: “It’s complicated. As she’s turning to leave.” “Complicated” almost always means “boyfriend”. where I watched this creepy guy kill an old woman with an ice pick. “I know a fair amount. if that’s what you’re thinking. like that answered everything. and her opinion might be different if I’d given an accurate description of the conversation I had with dream-Nicole. It’s you. What she’s telling you is that metaphors are also the language she speaks. ‘Why do Spaniards speak Spanish?’. and I don’t ask.

“Let me guess. and the word that comes to mind is “hysterical”. Several possibilities flash through my mind: Her dad had a heart attack. followed by a soft. Mary is in white slacks and a peasant blouse today. I also know I long for a big wet helping of her. then fasten my chinstrap and accelerate out of the parking lot. “About what?” “About… We just need… I just need… We have to talk. but she just looks down at her feet. her face animated in a way I’ve never quite seen before. I give her a little wave back. Fuck. I believe her. too. “Can we talk inside?” Sharon asks in a thin voice.“That’s really helpful.” she insists. *** When I turn onto my block. She lets out a sudden breathy laugh before turning a fiery gaze on me. or maybe a visit to the doctor uncovered something horrible. I’m not okay!” and a shake of the head.” I tell the plastic visor of my helmet. and stand aside to let her pass. and she suddenly looks to the heavens.” “I’m glad to help. “Hi. I end up staring at my feet. “Please let’s go inside. Mary. I’ve heard that the Baltimore Aquarium is having its funding cut by a third — would losing her job put Sharon into an emotional tailspin? I unlock the stairway door. because she turns once and waves to me. and a plain white T-shirt. I see a familiar Honda Civic parked in front of my apartment.” I expect her to respond with something combative or even cruel. I haven’t seen her in more than a month. She groans and looks to the heavens again. because now I have an easy view of her perfect ass as she climbs the stairs.” I can’t resist watching as she makes the trek to the employee parking area. “No. Thanks. and I think I see her physically shudder. A mistake. There are some very good reasons why I miss being with . “Sharon? Are you okay? What’s happened?” Another strange laugh in response. and it pains me how lithe and totally fuckable she looks.” I say warily. heading for home. I’m trying to fathom the implications when Sharon curls out of the driver’s door. She might even be braless. “You left something that you just remembered. then merge onto the highway. and has no problem making it all look sexy as hell. she’s looking good. and waits for me to park my bike. Other than yesterday’s dream. about being happy to help. This has to be something really major. Maybe she senses that I’m staring and admiring. She’s wearing extremely short shorts with running shoes.” She has her butt leaning on the side of her car. probably to lessen the useless desire.” she says once my helmet is removed. “I want to make it with that girl for real. probably.

but she puts her other hand over my mouth to shut me up. “What was I thinking?” “It’s okay. hand on one squeezing and kneading. and there is no bra strap impeding their journey. oh my God…” My hands glide up her smooth back. Only this… Fuck. I’m sure of it. Sharon! Oh fuck. going at the upper half of my cock a bit at a time. and quickly peel it away. like my old girlfriend has been enrolled at BJU. and I’ve missed that like crazy. “What do you mean?” I ask. and I'm not going to say no to fucking her again. and it hurts to be freshly reminded of them like this. Her emotions are out of whack. fumbling way. Sharon has taken hold of my cock. I’ve missed you so much…” My mouth opens to tell her how much I’ve missed her. then lowered down my legs. aimed at some guy I don’t even know. Seeing her in my dream was one thing. dropping to her knees and sucking my cock into her mouth in one sudden intake of heat and saliva. that’s obvious. My back hits the living room wall and I feel her warmth. using her tongue and cheeks gently. I feel my pants being unbuttoned. Insanely good. tongue lapping at the other. “What’s happened?” “I shouldn’t have… Oh God. starting with lots of teasing licks. but that will pass. This is waking life. This is… insane. feel me… Oh my God. I have a sudden chilling thought: Could I be dreaming again? What if I wrecked my motorcycle. but nothing happens. Sharon is pretty good at sucking a dick. where was she hiding this? I didn’t know she could… “Oh God. “Now tell me what’s…” All rational thought evaporates as she presses into me.” I soothe. She’s practically mauling my dick with one of her hands. a total body merge. what…” I begin to ask. even if she's whacked out of her mind and we'll both regret this later. . I go ahead and do it. and when I feel one of her hands worming into the front of my pants. but I stop myself from saying it. I don’t know what to do with my hands — wrap them around her? Push her away? What I really want to do is cup her firm ass. “Oh Jeez!” I gasp. “We… I should never have said all those things. and I’m unconscious on the side of the road? I will myself to float out of my body. Sharon is distraught about something.” she half-sobs. “Touch me all over!” she demands. With her breasts exposed I go at them.Sharon. She was always artful when blowing me. Sharon lets out some kind of bestial cry when I go at her left nipple with my lips. her head straddling my chest and left shoulder. because she’s been practicing. inviting her inside. “I… made a terrible mistake!” Sharon expels when we reach the landing. and learning a whole new set of tricks. her front to my front. I’m no saint. but this is reality. oh fuck…” I feel a wave of jealousy rise. learning to suck like fuck while we've been apart. excited as hell — I mean. and the swell of her breasts on my ribcage. and I’m unlocking my door. I’m hard as hell. and she’s rubbing at it in a frantic. “Touch me. “Sharon. too. I reach down and grab the bottom of her T-shirt.

holding her close. gasping or crying or… I’m really not sure what. closing her eyes tight. fast.My legs begin to tremble. When I think I can do it. this is crazy! she told herself. toppling sideways into a fetal position. even if we did end badly. I turn to leave and she grasps my arm. Interlude — Dampley Is the New Wet She was halfway through preparing a tall Cinnamon Dolce Latte when she couldn’t keep the images at bay anymore. “Ohgod ohgod ohgod ohgod…” I know that we’re going to have to transition from the glow of after-sex to a discussion of whatever has happened in her life. My rod aches — aches good. Sharon’s breathy gibberish eventually sorting itself out into a repetitive. the wonderful terrible wet heat. This is crazy. pulling me to her. and we’re… Oh holy shit she’s good. I’m… happy — I mean. her hissing steaming pussy. I pick her up. so fucking good! “Oh Sharon!” I choke out as it all comes together inside. “Nicole? You okay. the thoughts and images and heat. kind of comforting her. End? With our hearts pounding together. comforting her. joining her. They were here. bodies pressed close. with Sharon again! She always looked as hot as burning coals. she appears to have catapulted to an entirely different order of sexuality. smothering me with wetness and stroking. and we have to deal with each other under more normal circumstances? We lie there for a good while. She’s getting off with me. and the swirl of saliva in her mouth. and I see that both of her hands have gone between her legs. coming hard. It feels weird. I feel myself blasting into her mouth. But it was back. the way it would ache every damn day in a perfect world. Unless it’s just her distraught emotional state fueling her fires. haunting her from the inside. stunned by what she’s doing to me. She clenched her thighs tight. and I can’t be cold to her at a time like this. and carry her to the bedroom. She thought she'd gotten hold of the urges. feeling it all the way into my tingling fingers. and she was a good lover. . beginning to foam with anticipation… Nicole shook her head. replaced by her own shallow breathing. The frothing of the machines and the low hum of customers’ voices faded away. girl?” No she wasn’t okay. She moans as she sucks. too — she keeps sucking at my dick and her eyes are literally crossed for several seconds. depositing her gently on the bed. it hardly feels like the end of something. Fucking actual sex. lying beside my ex-girlfriend on the bed. But now that we aren’t together. I slump down beside her. trying desperately to keep from leaning against the counter to stroke her privates with its hard edge. Sharon’s hand-action between her legs has her detonating. almost jerking like my floor has electric current running through it. and suddenly lets go of me. masturbating the need away before coming in to work. and her heart pumping heat to her vagina. how can I not be after getting a humjob like that? But how am I going to feel when Sharon’s current crisis — whatever it is — passes. Especially when she pools saliva all over the palm of her right hand. biting her lower lip. kind of delirious after having my rod so expertly drained. I’ve never seen Sharon so needy. and I run my fingers through her hair. She looks thunderstruck. the gnawing need flooding back in. I relent. But she's shaking. and brings it down to my cock.

I’ll bet it’s so special!” “Nicole? What’s up?” She pictured Gina’s thighs. and not let her hands creep down between her thighs. She shifted her stance. very long and workout shapely. "Oh yes! Yes!" “Nicole? Nicole. not out here. marching into the bright morning light. followed her out of her dreams like a tidal wave. spreading wide open to allow access. And sometime this evening… “Oh my God!” she cried out. pinching her nipples. The hot tide was easing out momentarily. but she was blonde and well put together like Gina. and she knew that some of the customers would be looking at them. but how did you admit that to anybody. and tickling at her right thigh. Psychotic episode? Hormonal attack? Vaginal power play? It felt like her pussy could heat up and froth the drinks all by itself. so whatever it is. achy needy pressure gathering between her legs… “Ohhh yesss…” she hissed out loud. desperately. Charlene had small breasts. and not very private… It was hell making the short trek — that wasn’t sweat dampening her panties. she could almost think. Charlene had a pussy — did all pussies taste roughly the same. and that quiet photo nerd. twisting and hissing. David Sand. “I’m… having some sort of…” she tried to tell her boss. okay?” She almost wanted to cry — hadn’t she been trying to come to grips since awakening in the night? The visions of her old pal. rubbing her thighs together even tighter. She could see them. the new girl. she saw that Charlene. especially your boss? “Take a ten minute break. she unbuttoned the front of her shirt. “Nicole! Go!” “What?” Oh. not falling to her knees on the blacktop. a boiling hot tsunami with the epicenter somehow in her nipples and pussy all at the same time. Only she didn’t know what to call it. taking the half-prepared concoction from her hand. understand? You’re a good girl. glistening or even smeared. ”Come back focused or don’t come back at all. ignoring the stares of her coworkers and the customers. “Oh God. we all know that. It would be hot as blazes inside. She had great legs. smeared and shiny with David's stuff. Gina Marie. like the size of her boobs indicated a particular flavor? A special flavor. She had to keep it together. not where everybody would see how crazed and fucking desperate she was. Bowens ordered. what’s up?” Fuck. was staring.” Mr. indoors. almost . a sudden rush of heat almost bringing her to her knees. trying to tease it and not tease it and somehow satisfy it all at once. Behind the wheel. She could feel her nipples aching beneath the green apron. she was still behind the counter. the manager.rolling into her in disorienting waves. She removed her apron. come to grips. She needed to get off again. but where? Her car. the creamy thighs. Glancing sideways. or would Gina’s be extra-special.

Why had a phone call from her old high school pal caused her body to go berserk? It didn’t happen all at once — it was like some time–delayed detonation. curling to give her swollen clit a special dab. A flash of her sweating face in the rearview mirror confirmed that she was totally lost. oh fuck…” It was much as she’d thought it would be — unyielding and hard and wide. “I have to go home!” she cried.c. one hand turning the key. oh fuck. It wasn’t like the parking lot was crowded. Needing it harder. falling sideways. The urges were too intense. She was so wet. But she already knew her fingers weren’t long enough to serve as stand-ins for his cock. “Why? Fucking why?” she shouted. fighting the urge. terrified of the force of her own intentions. both at once!” she gasped. spreading her legs wide to the side to squat into position. so needing to get off. she lifted her rear and slid her shorts and underwear down. She should go home. needing it deeper. She’d felt up his cock with her feet in the dream and he was a big boy. so incredibly lubricated. She went to bed wondering if she even wanted to see Gina. talking too fast and not always making sense. Gina’s tongue flicking at her clit. imagining Gina’s lips… No. too. He would be hard and wide. feeling the vehicle rock slightly as the tip of the shifter found her drenched slit. and so what if some stranger caught a whiff. “Oh fuck. What if she wrecked. and she wanted him to go at her without yielding. enough that she rolled her window partly down for air. The smell of her wetness suddenly filled the car. to full blast. banging her forehead on the top of the steering wheel. taking her for all she was worth. she knew that. kicking them to the pedals. Her arm brushed against the leather stick shift… “Oh no!” she declared. chilled and hot and so needing to be touched. and let it slide up and down. She closed her eyes. What she did know was that there was no way she could last until the evening. wiggling and tickling at her labia. there was no way she could focus that long. She looked at the dashboard clock — still hours and hours before she could get her hands on Gina’s breasts. that she felt like she could fuck two stick shifts if they made them that way. Leaning the seat back. up and down. “Uh! Oh my God. or saw her finger-fucking herself? So fucking what? She brought her right middle finger between spread legs. agreeing to meet and not even caring that much about it at first. all relentlessly hot. a hard dab. David Sand’s tongue… “Oh God. “Oh God help me!” she pleaded to the windshield. “I’m not going to fuck my fucking car!” she feebly protested. “I’m not like this! I’d never…” But she was already climbing up from the driver’s seat. then let her ass sink down. driving it in deeper. “I… I won’t do it!” she insisted. “Yes!” she cried. Gina sounded kind of messed up. but could she even make the drive? Home was only ten minutes away… No. and a big thick David dick tunneling deep into her… “Uh!” she cried. almost crazy. she raised herself with her calves. awakening in the early morning all… all hopelessly masturbaty. and she pushed down.spitting out her lust. and the police wouldn’t let her play with herself? She’d fucking die! She put the car in neutral and set the parking break. “Why?” she repeated. yes!” . still herself but in no way the self she used to know. receiving no answers. turning the a. or go back to work. she’d end up having some sort of episode right in front of everybody. the other squeezing the flesh of her breasts. with more pressure on the front wall of her pussy.

but she was kind of lady-like during sex. and I’m not sure how to deal with it. she rocked the car. and she just kept coming. Sharon is messed up. Sharon couldn’t help being a turn-on with that honed and flexible body of hers. Like a lost soul. Whatever they are. Sharon and I don’t shake the mattress the way we used to — that was making love. the sound in her ears a monotonous tone even as searing waves of escalating force ripped through her body. At a certain point I peel her limp arms away. In the . It’s getting hot enough that our bodies slip-slide in our post-coital grasping. A whirlwind dose of ex-sex is the last thing I would have imagined happening today. and you have to accept that the impossible does not happen. and fucked with her mind. sideways and then forward. I laugh while scooping coffee — such a thing would be fabulous. I lean my head on the fridge. “More!’ she demanded of the hard shifter. In the kitchen. but disoriented now that it’s fallen into my bed out of the blue. pinching. and if I had any neighbors up here I don’t even think we’d hear them banging on the walls. or my horny wishes from the dream world crawled right inside her pussy. it was like her pussy exploded inside her ears. She shouted out her orgasms. she freed her hands. sobbed them out again and again. “I’m just going to get something to drink. she drives her whole body down onto me. hissing Gina’s name.Gathering momentum. abusing her nipples. The occasional miracle maybe. while this is having the cum pressure-cooked right out my cock. and it turns out that noise is hot. the outright impossible. Chapter Five — Lust Never Sleeps I don’t know what sort of event precipitated her change of heart. but I sure do love fucking my new old girlfriend.” I say. and quickly drifts into a deep satisfied sleep. and that her shoulder and back were laying on the horn. making sounds that I can only interpret as demented enthusiasm. abusing herself inside and out. and always the steady drone in her head. especially this girl. that’s for sure. which included making sure the neighbors couldn’t hear the box springs squeaking. Either that. grunting his name. faster. Nothing in the way she moves or grunts says lady-like now. make so much noise during sex. completely bewildered. and sit up. I’m beginning to think that she’s had her heart broken in the weeks since we’ve talked. shouting and gushing. I’m ecstatic about getting some real sex for a change. “Deeper! I… I need more! Oh God I need them! I fucking need them!” When she came. It wasn't until she could finally blink open her eyes that she understood how she’d collapsed diagonally. squeezing her tits hard. “Get some sleep. seeing them in her mind and surrendering entirely. rocked it harder. I recall the old lucid dream where I thought my cat might have come back from the dead — at some point what you hope might be true meets the reality of what can actually be true. I’ve never heard a girl. and then we’ll talk. The fact is that Sharon is here for reasons that will become known when she’s ready to talk. but it’s just another kind of dream. She utters this weird “bluh!” sound through wet lips. her hands grasping for me. and removed her blouse and bra entirely. and that my dick is being used to pump self-esteem into her body and soul. trusting her legs. Kneading. Sharon wraps both arms around my waist. no. She rocked the shocks.” I have to pry her hands away to leave.

with a yellow legal pad and pen in hand. Unify the energy of this and this. but where the fuck is any meaning? I think I hear rustling in the other room. write down the last few dreams I’ve had. I try to put my usual way of thinking on a shelf. or even poetic. inner thighs glistening with sweat and the evidence of our sex. drill for oil inside Sharon’s hole again before she realizes that she’s compounding her mistakes by coming back to me like this. photograph Sharon sleeping. and that’s when I remember what supposedly lies on the other side of the bridge I must cross: Pennsylvania. something in Sharon's after-sex look makes me believe that these could be special photos. How much of this do you think you’re doing all by yourself? You’re a rogue comet. One. Anyway. That sounds so much like what Mary has described. not theirs. In no time at all I have potential messages in front of me that may or may not have important meanings: A door is open. Being desperate for sex can be contagious. and focus my Leica on Sharon as I can. We’re doing great in bed this morning. Where’s the meaning in that? And dream-Nicole twice proclaimed that I’d have to unite this and this. and unmistakably sleeping after sex. and now everything can be changed. forgoing logic for something looser and freer. Would that make the newly lighted cells brain cells? If that’s right. Two. Fucking Pennsylvania. I start with the photos. I try to recall the specifics of the conversations with the women who’ve been helping me. but good days and one morning of incendiary sex aren’t necessarily enough. A door has been opened. with my brain lighting up on her monitor. sitting up and completely naked with her legs spread wide. and associating. what is the everything that can be changed? I keep looking. The first thing that strikes me is the bit about light pouring into darkened cells. and it needs to be your door. with light pouring into darkened cells. “They” again. and grab a glass of ice water for Sharon in case she’s awake. and the cryptic things they’ve said. with reflecting umbrellas set to bounce some fill light into shadow areas. I decide before finishing my first cup of coffee that there are three things I want to do right now. like Mary Poole suggested. It’s usually more of a planned production than this. Though the light is more random than I’d normally want. This morning I just pull a chair next to the bed. does the concern come from that it be my door and not theirs? Who’s they? The dream team? They’ve changed everything. Or Mary doesn't. the others who knows. but that’s this morning. Changed the way my brain lights up? But that isn’t their doing — they don’t seem to know how it happens any more than I do. and I have a homemade tripod with an extending arm that allows me to point my camera straight down onto my sleeping subjects. There is a bridge to be crossed. and you can’t do it without help. I haven’t put any pants or . and now everything can be changed. then. so I take a seat at my kitchen table.meantime I’m not going to allow myself to feel the hopefulness that comes at the beginning of a new relationship. She’s gorgeous. because I know that we don’t work right as a couple. already altering the orbits of two or three worlds. trying to go stream of consciousness. She’s most definitely awake when I pad back into the bedroom. but I’m sure I’ve forgotten particular turns of phrase. Where. Sharon shows no signs of waking up. Looking at these. while squeezing my dick with her feet. maybe even the best in the series. They’ve changed everything. I guess I’m fine with getting a foot-job. Rather than writing down an event-by-event replay of each dream. then maybe the opened doorway would be like a new way of thinking. I had good days with this woman in the past. And three. I can remember all three lucid dreams.

underwear on. her mouth opening. becoming assertive inside my mouth. pulling at her nipples. reaching out to me. Sharon grunting and gasping. “David. and I can see that she sees that I’m hard again. begging for more. telling me to hold my position.” she whispers. I…” she sort of croaks. She’s drawing in deep breaths through her nose and before I even know it’s coming. “Oh yes!” she encourages. like she can’t decide whether she’s more thrilled or panicked that my cock is poised at the gates once again. She’s so much more demanding than I remember — it’s like she wants me everywhere. and then she’s bending forward at the waist. legs spread. but I also want to know what’s happened to make target practice like this possible. I cup her ass with both hands. going toe to toe. until she’s licking the head of my cock through her spread legs. Instead her tongue comes out. me driving in and out while I taste her body. the tip of my cock jammed just inches from her slit.” Sharon takes a couple of quick gulps. kneading and licking and grinding. I think she must want me to stand behind her to fuck her from behind. “Oh fuuuck…” I groan. and tells me to get on my knees with my torso erect. until I see that she’s bending even lower. showing off the pink zone where I’m supposed to be. offering the water. She stands with her back to me. Me. . and if I’m supposed to resist out of principle or something. I feel good to go like this for a long time. She unveiled it early in our relationship. and she even finds a way to interlock our feet. Every time my cock pops outside of her she lets out a cry. Sharon peers into my eyes. almost folding herself in two. I push up to where I can go at her tits with my mouth. stroking deep into her. even though she knew how much it turned me on. and she presses the back of my head with her hand. because her eyes aren’t leaving my dick. rubbing against her. resting the glass on my bedside table. She looks all conflicted. She wiggles underneath me. licking at her breasts. and I think she’s finally going to tell me what’s happened. A wise man would probably just aim and swan-dive on top of a beautiful woman whenever she does that. “You wouldn’t have come here like this without. I don’t know what she has in mind. my “Ah!” of surprise smothered by aggressive lips. This is unusual — Sharon was never one to switch gears in mid-fuck. her other hand spreading her labia wide. “I only want… oh God…” I take the offered hand and she pulls me to her. I’m going to fuck Sharon again. and urges me back in. “Maybe you should tell me what’s going on. I can’t help coming to full erection. you know… reasons. then pulling all the way out. is so fucking familiar. from the scent of her body lotion and shampoo to the way she rubs at my lower back with the heels of her hands. but I do as she says. “Touch me! Oh please touch me! Everywhere!” There is no going back from this now that we’re both heated up again. I slip inside of her. She beckons with a finger. “I… don’t want to talk. moving closer to me. and we find a rhythm together. upside down. feeling myself go in deep. I run my hands up her thighs. The sensation of our bodies pressed together is so fucking familiar — everything.” I say. her tongue darting. and we’re kissing. definitely. Oh fuck yes! I think as her head appears between her legs. Without warning she pushes me up with her arms. as though giving a taste of the treats I might expect if I was a good dog. I don’t even know what to call this — yoga-job sounds good — and she only did it with me once before. I think Sharon might be able to lick her own pussy in this position. than I am a man without principles. Having come twice already. it’s so fucking crazy. If her tongue had a few more inches.

It’s… incredible. Her school sweater stands out — way out — a firmly bound bundle of boobage jutting and strutting through the glass doors of The Pizza Escape. I give that a try now. and can bend like Sharon. that is. Gina Marie Hurt style. all inverted and super-deep. at least for now. Why didn’t she ever kick into this gear before? Why did she always hold back? “Sharon!” she pulls out of my throat. sucking… And then she goes for it. really goes for it. she keeps going faster. Not real love — I know that I don’t have a clue what that’s all about. My fingers are jammed inside her but I’m so stunned that I don’t even know if I’m doing anything with them anymore. “They aren’t into one another like that. stuck to each other like melted gum. but Christ — when a girl looks like Sharon. She’s flanked by two lesser lovelies and they’re a noisy group. “I’ll bet those two can’t wait to grind their hips together. We lie there in the morning light. She moans a lot. and I’m certain that I’m in love. her upside-down expression one of upside-down astonishment. she just clutches tighter. swirling wetness in a turbulent hot flood. She has my attention with that one.” Sophie comments. is he? *** “Uh-oh. expelling deep gushy breaths with this furious kind of whimpering mixed in.” Yes indeed. making all those wet wild animal sounds like she did before. so much better than the other time she did this. She collapses forward before I can do anything to stop her. this is just well deserved anatomical love. Sharon keeps sucking. her folded body shaking enough that the bed vibrates. I guess I have a girlfriend again. I lick my fingers wet and stroke her slit. and her back thuds against the headboard. although I figure she’s pulling my leg. whispering. chirping into cell phones with their sneakers squeaking on the freshly mopped floor. unfolding her and helping to get her flat on her back.Only bad dog David never managed to earn this particular treat again — until today. “Jeeezus. a beggar like me isn’t going to say or do anything to change things around too quickly.” I say. so much faster. and I come furiously. and it’s like a house built on sand. more like she’s clutching for dear life than just being close. licking. No. taking me in deeper than she’s ever taken me in her mouth before. and can give hummers like she’s been giving me this morning… Well. giving me no choice but to explode. “We should never have broken up…” I don’t reply. nodding at the cheerleaders. don’t stop! You’re… Oh fuck. I’m not quite sure what to do — Sharon was always fairly quiet after sex. I don’t know why. She ends up in a spread-legged heap on the mattress. She digs her body into mine. twisting her mouth all around my tool. and all the while Sharon is drawing my cock farther into her mouth. Amazingly. She keeps sucking. Oh fuck!” It’s like she’s reaching into my balls and inflating them. and when I try to bring things into the realm of conversation. hard enough that I think I can feel my dick stretching. hot and sweaty. wanting to be held. “Wanna bet?” . I feel a hot wet flood all around my inserted fingers — she’s coming just as hard as I am. here come the boobs. then popping the orgasm out.

“Which two. I remember. Something about them feels meaningful.” “Where do you want to be? I could just think it and be there in half a second. I envision the two blonde bombshells naked — Nicole is taller. “Ask your girlfriend to clean it with her tongue. and what I do I can do in private.” “Maybe that’s why you can’t understand your girlfriend. isn’t it? They’ll be what you want them to be. Gina Marie. to see if I could get some dream-sex going with her. only I have no girlfriend. or dirty. with excellent tits and the best legs in school. “Now that you’re aware. “Because her mouth is always filled with your dick. then?” Sophie’s eyes light on Gina Marie and Nicole Dampley. like this is a replay of a replay.” It’s like she’s just given me a jolt of electricity with those words. silly.” “I’d like to come with you. “Besides. but it’s unintelligible. “That’s what we ended up doing tonight. I’m not at the lab. wondering if there’s something else I should be doing now that I’m lucid-dreaming again.” I protest. “Sophie… I can’t understand a word you’re saying when your mouth is full. “You really think they are?” I whisper to Sophie. my unconscious mind has taken me right back to The Pizza Escape. so I don’t have to perform any trained monkey tricks for anybody.” “How did you know what I was thinking? And what girlfriend? I don’t have…” “She’s lying right beside you.” she annunciates after swallowing. I could aim horny thoughts into Sophie. enjoying some joke together as they pour tanned legs and a mile of cleavage into a neighboring booth. fast. only . and bites off a tiny bit. "You aren’t real. and feel my cock hardening. “Too bad these aren’t real mushrooms.” “It’s all real to me. and lust is really lust.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sophie picks up a slice of her pizza. And my real body… Where is it this time? At home. I like the moonlight.” she says. And since when did Sophie speak so casually about my dick? She always uses the word “penis”. a girl who probably has to struggle to even see her legs. “It’s what you think that’s important. “Dirty?” she laughs. “The real stuff for you is on the other side.” she answers. and Gina Marie is… well. There’s something I want to show you. isn’t it?” She bites off a bigger piece of pizza and says something else. let’s go for a drive. with Sharon pressed tight against me. I’m dreaming again!” “Ta-da!” For whatever reason. then.” Sophie beams. like any other word is too intimate. I envision big tits smushed into even bigger tits.” “The other side of what? You keep saying… Oh fuck. after all.” I hesitate. Good when wet is really wet. On the other side.” “But none of this is real.

and Sophie declares: “Can’t wait to see these giant things up close!” She’s full of giggles as we leave.” “But…” She beams a smile at me exactly the way she used to. “You’ll go crazy thinking like that. because a kid named Tim Freeman first showed it to me.” Sophie says. I see that my old blue Toyota pickup is right where I parked it that night. “I feel weird pretending that I’m sixteen again. moving to stand beside the cheerleader table. and then we emerge at a secluded spot beside a little estuary. “Don’t be an idiot. the stars jump to life above. instinctively choosing the same roads we drove that night. but then she’s me. I feel like a sap. I start the truck.Sharon is lying right beside me “on the other side” as Sophie just put it. and leans back to place her feet on the dashboard. and grabs hold of Gina Marie’s left boob. This is where I’d bring girls back then — I got inside the pants of a couple. let’s go.” Sophie reads my mind. wondering if I’m the first guy in history to knowingly cave to a cute and manipulative fragment of his own mind. only we peel off when we come to a particular curve. just like she did back . okay?” I hardly need directing. but all I have to do is wake up and I could get the real thing. so I’m simultaneously the manipulator and the manipulated. or a piece of it. “I’ll enjoy feeling the air whipping through my hair. “Come on.” I’m supposed to relate with these dream women. she is my mind. getting out of the car. I’m enjoying dream sex just fine. and I wonder for an instant whether to pay for the pizza or not. I take a right off of Pleasant Point Highway onto a thin twisting road that leads to a public boat launch. the moon a red-orange ball just clearing a low band of clouds on the eastern horizon. fully aware of how her dimples get to me. When we step out into the cool evening air. I can feel it.” I say to Sophie once we’re inside the truck cab. Hell.” Sophie reprimands.” I observe. “You’ll get more sex than you’ll know what to do with soon enough. “Just like it was. I remember what Mary Poole said. you know. This particular place never had an actual name. She rolls her window partway down. and flamed out with a few others. both the sucker and the suckee. and the keys are in my pocket. When I turn the headlights off. anyway. Gina Marie gives out this goofy kind of gasp. but it’s not warm either. and the pizza joint is in an uproar behind us. Does she hear Freeman and immediately relate to it as “free man”? It isn’t cold outside. although I called it Freeman’s Cove. Sophie climbs onto the hood of the truck. that metaphors are the building blocks of language for a dream creature like this.” Sophie advises. We get up from the table. “I always liked that name. onto a well-maintained dirt track. David. “Pretty please?” she asks. She leans in to the group of high school lovelies. and her desires are simple enough. The air grows moister and cooler as we pass under a stand of pines. “Drive down by the water. and understandable for a change.

” I say. and I join her. giggling. “I can blink myself anywhere once I know I’m dreaming. Maybe this was the moment back then when I figured we’d hook up for sure. our backs resting on the windshield as engine warmth heats our legs. I knew I’d get something — fingers. “Why won’t you ever give me a fucking straight answer?” I lose my cool. I don’t need a bridge. “Think you could cross that?” Sophie asks. stretching out over the water and beyond. figuring she’s going to say “Pennsylvania”.” I correct her. and I close my eyes. “Some of them might even be satellites.” “You can’t just think yourself where that leads.” I answer truthfully. too. getting used to me contacting her thighs. but I see a bridge — a gigantic bridge. but the bridge fades from view in the distance.” she answers. her long hair quivering in the light breeze. The bridge is enormous. There is no fog tonight. I adjust myself sideways. Just rest your head in my lap. Holy crap.” she says.” she corrects me. “Listen to all the sounds. I see the swell of her breasts in the sweater. “I mean. a towering structure that seems to extend for miles. I felt her warm thighs beneath me. nothing to obscure my sight. like it just ceases to exist before reaching the other side.” I laugh. the head-nestling thing on the truck hood. “That’s real enough. “You’ll need help.” she elbows my ribs. the occasional flop of a fish breaking the surface. okay?” What she says defuses a bit of my frustration. but I can sense that she’s right. No more questions for now. “Probably the same thing as right here.then. It wasn’t there before and it wouldn’t exist in real life. It’s like my attempt to fly to the moon — which I couldn’t even do — would be a piece of cake compared to getting to the other side of that bridge. “I’d forgotten how many stars you can see here. I hadn’t remembered until now that Sophie and I did that. taking in all the frogs and crickets. ‘the same thing as right here?’ That makes no sense!” “Relax. “What’s on the other side?” I ask. It was just a . “You know. those were real satellites you visited. and saw her breasts swelling out above.” “I guess I could go up and see. like this was practice for both of us. cock or tongue — inside of her pussy before the night was out. Sophie’s pussy was right beneath my head. “I… don’t know. and then the stars beyond.” Is she saying what I think she’s saying? “That isn’t possible.” I don’t know how. “What is?” I see it now. When I look up. with the back of my head right over top of her pussy.

wanting to see her switch from cool and collected dream-guide to ravenous David-devourer. can it? It looks so real — I look so real. our sweaty bodies interlaced together. I hesitate. but of course I’m not really awake. then float out of my body. I don’t know why she’s doing this. and the next thing I know she’s running. . When my hands and lips touch your nipples. this world coming into being as sleep temporarily strips the other away? I guess I could aim all kinds of sexy stuff into Sharon as she lies there sleeping — I missed out on getting my dream-shag with Sophie. and tosses them away. then stop. racing onto the slope of an elevated roadway. the desires inside of you become overwhelming. but I give chase. she reaches down and pulls both her sweater and undershirt over her head. or is awake/sleep an impenetrable barrier. I just woke up. maybe this will inspire you. “How could I do that in here without the scene switching?” “You know what they say — lust never sleeps.” Sophie says. You need to fuck me tonight. How the fuck did that happen? It can’t actually be the dream-me peering down at the real me. peering down at myself and Sharon. “Here. sort of like an on-ramp. free of gravity… …into an entirely different place. it’s the entrance to that bridge. So what if it isn’t real — I never got the real thing. today. and you have to have my cock buried deep inside your pussy. I aim into the undersides of her breasts.matter of time. indeed. I’m looking up at the underside of her bra cups now. reaches back and the bra drops away. I’m still on the truck hood with Sophie. I wonder: Can a light body observe the dreamer dreaming itself into existence? Can a dream-me here and the real me there ever have a mutual awareness of each other. and that Sophie and I don’t even talk now. naked with my body smeared from sex? I can smell her pussy even here in a dream — maybe I’m close to waking up. “Oh!” I start. Inspired. and consummate what never got consummated. without even jostling my head in her lap. a bit of that world seeping into this one. Why run if I can just float and be anywhere? I see her up in the distance. banging the fuck out of you. No excuses.” Although in a strange way. running fast on the dirt road.” she says. “You fell asleep for a minute. “Catch me if you can!” she shouts. and I feel frustrated. Gathering details I confirm that this is right now. Fuck. the white satin glowing against the dark backdrop of the night sky.” “I think that was ‘rust’. no delaying this time. Sophie slides off the hood of the truck. running up onto that phantom bridge in the past. she’s anticipated a shift in my mood. I sit up. “I certainly won’t stop you. But wouldn’t it be totally redundant to go after Sharon here when I’m already right there. She leans forward at the waist. I’m starting to think that I should just go ahead and aim lust for my cock into this Sophie. blinking my eyes open.” Smooth as silk. One second I was there with Sophie. and now I’m hovering over my own bed. fingers gently caressing my hair.

I think about the hot women I know. It’s simple. I guess. I decide to keep things simple and mostly teasing. and thinking that I just might have to go ahead and dream-fuck her if the sequence plays out. why not dreamseduce Anne. not with Sharon in my bed. I can almost feel the rest of the group — all men — struggling to regain their concentration. I don’t find Anne or Mary. In a heartbeat I’m under the table. my warm-up leg show that Sharon can finish for me You’re beginning to feel a powerful attraction for David Sand. or Mary if she’s here. and show off your body. They’re crossed. but I do see Dr. because my dick already feels like it’s hard enough to break off. everyday action. focused on the images. You know I love to look at your legs. until you’re begging for me to fuck you. because her ankles and calves look completely real. then fitting her foot back in. with a real live woman waiting for my dick on the other side. desperately needing to be fucked by every guy in this room? Group scientist sex hardly sounds like a turn-on. I’m already hard just thinking about it. Come to think of it. I think for a minute about where I might want to take this. thinking about dressing in sexy lingerie and showing off for me. dangling her heel. even to me when the brain is mine. tuning in to in the lecture. Then again. but I have a feeling that I got it right. Anne’s figure is a hell of a lot more attention-grabbing than slides of brains. like the separate colors have found a way to blend together into a Rorschach-like pattern. She takes a seat at the far end of the conference table. right in front of her legs. and remember my little vow last night. You know that doing it will make your pussy boil. like nearly twin brain-shapes side by side on a big screen. Anne pauses at the opened door. seeking dream-pussy. Only the one on the right is much more… What’s the word? Unified. I can see that my focusing on her anatomy last night is already paying dividends. besides. silky smooth and in every way the kinds of things I might want to rub my dick against. These are supposed to be my brain? I compare them — they both have a rainbow of colors. . and she’s moving the raised foot. He’s showing two maps of a human brain. but it gets my heartbeat racing. Do I want Anne to strip naked for me? Drool for my cock and need to fuck me? Or what if she melted down and climbed on top of the conference table. Dr. I don’t really need to get any dream sex going. I aim between Anne's thighs. get my cock all worked up and then have the real Sharon relieve the pressure? It feels like a brilliant idea — cock-teasing in one world. Another symbol to decipher? The important thing for now is that my target has just entered the darkened room. as though it’s her pussy I’m addressing. and you want to get me in private. giving some sort of power-point presentation to a group in another conference room.But I’m not awake yet. and so I float from office to office. no others around. You get so incredibly hot. Phillips in this dream. the pattern looks a hell of a lot like a butterfly. and mine aren’t the only eyes leaving the lighted screen to check out her legs in the high heels. like certain areas of activity have been given their own coding. hovering in the conference room. and might as well do something fun or constructive while I can. to get dream sex going with Anne the first chance I got. experience has shown that I can’t predict the exact form the dream will take. I’m startled when I see my name in the lower left corner of each image. In a blink I’m at the facility. Anne uncrosses and re-crosses her legs — it’s an ordinary.

Phillips is seated now. “Come back to bed!” she insists. hoping to drift back into the same dream. Anne? I close my eyes. The image changes to a narrow stone house — more like an elaborate hut at the foot of a rocky hill or small mountain — then shifts again to a much larger whitewashed building.I float right through the table and hover above. and “The changes are stable. attached to a thin necklace. slowly removing her glasses with her eyes burning with desire… In just a few seconds I know it’s useless. encouraging me to go at her for all I’m worth.” I laugh out loud at the absurdity of the contradictions. “Brain like a butterfly”. Fuck. Naked flesh? I open my eyes and see a lopsided ceiling above me. eventually settling upon a particular set of windows. Her lips have parted. his place taken by some military dude. Hot hands touch my shoulders. that was the most fun I’ve ever had at the facility. Halfway to the bed I stop her. still holding tight to each other. I notice that Dr. I take a moment to add. falling to the floor and raising her rear high into the air. Oh. begging me to go as hard and deep as I can. but fast-forwarded a bit to where Anne slowly strips out of her clothes. but David isn’t ready for this” to my list of dream symbol horseshit. The general is laser-pointing at a map of northern Pakistan. The hand that was rubbing at her chin has drifted lower. then swings around the chair to plant herself in my lap. and speaks. . She’s doing her chin-rubbing thing. talking about advanced surveillance techniques and something called “ultimate stealth”. I’m waiting for the rest to come out when she sticks two fingers in my mouth. Fuck. back in my Baltimore apartment. and I instantly know that I’m really opening my eyes. listening intently to the lecture. no long-legged strip-tease dream with Dr. “The changes are stable. absently fondling a little gold cross. It’s Sharon’s naked body pressing into mine. It’s Sharon. “We need to unify the energy of this and this!” I quote from my list of nonsense. The red laser dot meanders. because we’re still on the bed. like I’ve somehow left her and me both in a state of suspended wankimation.” she addresses the group. maybe a general from all the stars and medals on his uniform. and on the other side of the bridge I’m supposed to cross. I ease out of the bed. I glance back at Anne. I’m ready. cock hard. it’s now “Exactly the same as right here. Ready for you to… I’m shocked to feel hot naked flesh pressing into my back. jamming my cock into her pussy. Pepper. Having my dream end right there seems cruel. I flinch when she suddenly sits straighter. but I’m not convinced that David is ready for this. “I… need…” she sputters. silent as a cat and fragrant as a whorehouse. “They’ll be what you want them to be”. “Yes! Yes!” Sharon agrees. push hard into her back and bend her over from behind. I picture her legs in the nylons. Thirsty again. and I think she just might have a far-away look behind the glasses. Things go all sweaty and tit-meaty as she presses close. spreading her legs wide. After a couple of swigs of Dr. She growls. with a hand pulling at my cock and fingers tickling my balls. looking at her face to see if there are any hints beginning to show. and it’s gone. Oh right.

not in the classic sense. proposing to send David’s light body into immediate fieldwork in one of the most dangerous regions on the planet. Couldn’t they reflect for a moment that without David’s exceptional talents. She was the only woman in a sea of receding hairlines and type-A personalities. jamming my dick in where it’s never gone before. and she’s sucking her juices and my leftovers down her throat. there could be no doubt that they had created a functioning light body. someone had to foresight to stroke his ego for helping to advance their research. there wouldn’t even be a program to move forward? David Sand. but David had saved her firm ass by validating her research. It was impossible to underestimate the magnitude of the breakthrough — this was Western science treading in the realm of Eastern mysticism. Feeling like the room was too hot. begging for more. and there were concerns that it could take years to duplicate the results in other test subjects. her sandman. was jumping the gun. Interlude — Lingerie Becomes Her It only took a few minutes into the interagency meeting for her concerns about David Sand to spread wider. with these thick-headed fools pushing so hard… Considering his basic psychological profile. David was… She wasn’t quite sure what he was. perhaps. however. which emboldened the military types. but now. Nevertheless. the program’s only successful dreamer to this point. It went beyond his ideal thought-signature. Perhaps it was more important to think about what she was. but holds her position. He was an innocent fish surrounded by teeming sharks. No one had proposed a pay raise for David. she couldn’t really see David being pleased with the identity of his masters. because Sharon flips around. He could feel emotional stress. He was their star. just when the budgetary sex was poised to… budgetary ax was poised to fall. given the atmosphere in the darkened room. Anne uncrossed her lovely legs and brought them back together with a little extra oomph. slamming all my weight down. Not all of the subtle alterations to his subconscious functioning were understood. she will. doing more to thrill her in his sleep than this whole room could manage when awake. beyond his usefulness to her personal research and the entire intelligence community. no bonus. taking it and more. a speed-of-thought entity partially able to bridge the separation between the dream state and the world of conscious reality. and re-crossed her legs below. and the sharks were consumed by their desire to move the program forward at an accelerated pace. because they were blind to his overall charms. screams. I know. I mean I just fucking go at her with everything. Feeling almost shamefully overdressed. no problem. Wait. Unless. General Thompkins. I come. Sharon whoops. besides extremely exciting. Easy on the eyes. He didn’t know it. certified pompous asshole. She’s eating it up. Restless in her chair. aiding in the formation of energies long rumored in exotic esoteric practices. and the only trouble I can see is that I can’t come twice in a row nonstop. She objected… and knew before her second sentence that any dissention was falling on deaf ears. and she felt the need to strip for his interests. no nothing. I think she wants to suck me off again. Trouble is coming and coming is trouble. before the day is done. She smiled as that thought eased through her body. and they . either. Which would be a difficult task. Curvy. what was she thinking? Care for his interests. warming her from head to toe. Anne studied each serious face around the conference table. yet never proven nor observed. David couldn’t be hurt in the field.I pile-drive her. They wouldn’t. She could understand the need to keep David in the dark for the purity of the research. and there could be no doubt that she alone had a firm grasp on David’s enormous gifts.

Anne removed her glasses. too. Under the circumstances she only had two options: Fall in line. She wasn’t naïve — hell. David did like to look at her — she’d been a bit annoyed at first. hardly a kid. Her assistant described it as “a grand alliance of formerly disparate interests” — dry language. satin or nylon. but felt a stab of fear inside. Kid? David was only eight years her junior. it sometimes looked as though his glands were absolutely engorged with energy. or her body on his mind. Anne?” She nodded. and insufficient understanding of the data already collected. Impossible. wait.still had so little data. but almost unbelievably rousing for anyone interested in the effects of the mind on the body. in and out. It didn’t hurt anything if the kid couldn’t keep himself from staring at her scrumptious legs. but she just couldn’t wrap her . On the monitors. but in other ways it was revolutionary. she'd flirted with Eduardo when she had to just to get the program off the ground. her eyes… Dammit. patiently. Such a thing needed to be studied. Something was very wrong here. More importantly. but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. they needed David’s trust — they were trying to understand a form of energy that only he could navigate. She would definitely not resign. drawing the attention of Eduardo to her left. match — money talked far louder than the concerns she had raised in previous meetings. That thought disturbed her to no end. In some ways what they observed on their monitors was no different. and there were any number of unknown factors when stimulating an organ as complex and sensuous as the human brain. and she was far from being too uptight to contemplate stimulating a younger man. Something was definitely wrong.. Ridiculous. and they were plunging ahead whether anyone understood the readings or not. or hand job her resignation. They were seeing increased cooperation between both hemispheres and all the glands of the body… She squirmed in her seat. Point. She was just entering her sexual prime. and the funding of the entire program was now being filtered through the Pentagon’s black budget. in and out. absently fondling the frame. She giggled. but her looks were part of her power game. Or… possibly not… In certain circumstances… Her rear wiggled in the chair as she slipped her heel in and out of her shoe. “Are you all right. but the military wanted intelligence on a grand alliance of another nature in Pakistan.. Immature and totally self-indulgent. wasn’t she? She felt like a prime cut. what was the matter with her? She wasn’t thinking clearly and it was hard sitting still. She felt like decking out her juicy figure in leather and lace. She thought of poor David and felt her thighs… no. garters and sexy stockings with her tallest heels and a warm feather duster to tickle his fancy. one she should have seen before: She could reward David herself. thinking about that. and objectification came with the territory. She was a svelte and sexy woman in a world of alpha males. Every organ — even specific parts of an organ like the brain — had its own function. set. She blinked as the idea grew fatter and longer with every breath. like entirely new brain/brain brain/body alliances were in the process of formation. she would never. Perhaps it was the appearance of a third option. she’d always known that. arranged for the benefit of the entire organism as a whole. A nagging feeling teased at the back of her head and ran down her spine.

determined not to blurt out the horror of her realization. She’d have to get him alone. No point in letting the group know how much she’d love to dress up and watch that butterfly pattern in David’s brain begin to quiver with excitement. probably. She was a scientist.” she mumbled. experiencing a moment of realization. leaning too close. Most likely. . Martin would object. “What about a hotel?” Eduardo asked. Too many facts and figures. She barely even had any outfits! Some fetishist she was — she had a couple of camisoles. That would be cheating and she didn’t… Well. She should probably keep her options open on anything that might or might not happen after she got David somewhere alone. Wait. images tickling at her insides. Some bushes in a park? The brambles would tear her nylons. this time heating with shame. away from protocols and memos and hidden cameras and a culture of meddling with every little thing that a long-legged lingerie enthusiast might need. She could see that it wasn’t going to work to continue sitting here. “Maybe a hotel. and something wasn’t adding up. What had she been thinking? Had she been thinking. but to the rest of it. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on sexy little outfits. and still public. Hopeful lecherous fart. picturing a suite with plenty of room to strut and show her stuff. They wouldn’t understand. a professional problem-solver. too little attention to purchasing pleasure garments that flattered her fabulous figure. Her car? No room to move. Not nearly enough.legs around it. would they — they were all men. totally alone. Although it wasn’t like she would actually bring David home and dress for him. and yet… She began to chew on her lower lip. wasn’t it. something was definitely wrong. Alone where? A room somewhere in this very building? Too may cameras. and a few would be envious as hell if she hiked her skirt for David to peer under. or only working so hard that she’d forgotten how much David needed to be rewarded? She rubbed her glasses hard. no French maid attire. Her heart quickened. Well. She needed to acquire some rogue underthings that could terrorize David Sand’s newly lighted brain cells completely stiff. Away from prying eyes. There could be no doubt that she needed to deck her curvy body in seductive underthings and skimpy naughty outfits… “Oh!” she breathed out. She could feel her nipples rising in her bra. Like she would ever put on a velvet bustier or a cutesy school girl outfit to tease him hard. and thought she should cry out… She shifted in her seat again. the contradictions eating her out. “Anne? Is something wrong?” She puckered her chewy lips shut. she never had… But then she’d never had a young man do so much to excite her research. and Martin had given her a red teddy for Valentine’s Day. pretending to care about acquisitions and terror cells cooperating with rogue intelligence agents. no gartered lace bustier or nipple-y nurse’s outfit… She definitely felt her thighs reddening. Was she an actual lingerie enthusiast? She’d never thought of herself that way. It was unknown territory. just like David’s readings and the gnawing needs she felt blooming inside. not to the outfits or her need to wear them. trying to get everything back under control.

or possessed. David might not know. Gina brought her teasing hands from under the magazine and hugged her breasts. pressing hard on the denim of her jeans. one of those guys who makes a woman need to slink in ridiculously tall heels. until she would… . she’d always known that but now she wanted everyone to see. makes a woman realize for the first time how alive her pussy can feel. wiggling her legs. show the whole world just how magnificent her tits were. and this wasn’t natural. “I… have to go…” “Go where?” Eduardo asked.“Oh yes. rising from her chair. But she couldn’t do it in a place like this. Nicole!" Or… it was probably David… fucking David. Nicole and David. beginning to rush to the bank of elevators. but if they locked her up how would she be able to make it to New Jersey to shove her pussy in Nicole’s face and lick her tits and find David Sand and fuck him and feel his hands squeezing her tits and fuck him and keep fucking him? Such a narrow escape. feeling like one of those geysers where the heat and pressure keep building inside in unending rhythms of blowing and briefly ebbing until she had to blow again. and they would. she needed them to see. either — he could be a natural. It wasn’t like she had bombs under her shirt but they detained her briefly and threatened her with arrest.” she said to no one in particular. did they? Didn’t know what made them tick. arching her back to let them bulge and sway so that everyone could marvel at the magnificence of her tits. Interlude — Tits On a Plane Keeping it together in her narrow seat was a nightmare. or what made them wet. She’d do anything. The portly businessman in the aisle seat kept peeking at her boobs and it made her boiling blood boil even more. corralling their weight with her arms. or some devil somewhere had a voodoo doll with oversized boobs and they were holding a cigarette lighter between its thighs and whispering into its ear to strip out of her blouse and bra and show everybody. driving the seam hard against her and feeling her moisture spot right through. and they would… She would… Oh my God she would. She’d been drugged. no no no. She leaned her head against the window and willed the plane to go faster. “I’ll find ways to thank him. though. They were so fucking beautiful. anxious to go down down down. she’d already come so close to being arrested in the airport while standing in line and pulling her blouse over her head. chewing her fingernails. oh yes fucking and fucking David… She would show them. Men didn’t know a fucking thing about women. She could feel their eyes on her smoking legs as she left the room. giving everybody a good long look. two ultimate goals. it had to be either Nicole… "Oh my God. She didn’t bother to answer. She kept trying to fight the urges. placing a magazine on her lap and surreptitiously fingering her aching slit underneath. one for each incredible breast. A geyser was natural. managing to apologize and be all pretend-embarrassed and keep her tits covered because she had even greater needs. and lowered her head to prevent a hallway camera from capturing her grin of satisfaction. leaning in close again. pushing them into even higher mountains.” she spoke to her clicking heels. any fucking thing to make it through this flight without baring her breasts and parading in the aisle. wanting to tear her blouse and bra off and stand in the aisle.

shouldn’t be flying to fucking New Jersey… Blown off. and when she blew David off… “Uh! Uh!” It was like the thoughts turned into a kicking mule inside her pussy. making her hips buck. Oh God. Nicole’s lips on her slit. yes. and rubbed warm lotion all over her slit and clit and she’d teased her pussy and abused her pussy and practically stir-fried her pussy and she’d come and come and come and it was never ever enough! She’d called David and come. “Afraid of flying?” the guy in the next seat asked. wet gliding over wet. He might even be staring more with her eyes closed. It ate at her sanity. tits enveloping tits. her burning vortex cunt swallowing David whole and swallowing Nicole's hole… “I’m… I’m not even fucking gay!” Gina tried to convince the oval window. doesn’t want to see. The guy leaned back. trying not to crash and burn. with her fingers creeping under the bottom of her blouse and beginning to raise it. or shouldn’t be. I do want everyone to see my boobs!” she vented. The guy looked like he was ready burst. She wasn’t.” she kept mumbling.” she whispered. She clamped her eyes shut and made herself believe that he didn’t even want to see her tits. What was she afraid of? The vortex between her legs. oh God. squeezing her thighs tight together. “Doesn’t want to see. Gina had her blouse bunched under her neck. and now she was forty minutes from touching down. “I’m… not even making sense. but then she shouldn’t have blown off all her appointments. or she just needed to show them even when she knew she shouldn’t want to whether everyone wanted to see them or not. ate at logic and willpower and what was she supposed to fucking do? Her common sense knew the answer but the vortex rolled her common sense into a cock-like tube and stuffed it inside her opening until her knees buckled and she was gasping for breath. They all wanted to see her tits. unsure if that was true or not true. and past him on the other side of the aisle two older women were staring with their eyes bugging out. touching. . Everyone wanted to see her tits and she could feel the man just inches away. squeezing her boobs hard through the cotton top. “I… can’t…” she tried to choke out. But she had to stop her hands from doing what they were doing. her breath like hot steam. eyes locked onto her cleavage. It ate reason and wouldn’t take no for a fucking answer and she’d done everything she could think of. oh God. like he could do it all he wanted to now because he could get away with it. Fucking boob-drooling idiot pretending not to be. are you okay?” the clueless tit-obsessed guy asked.” she thumped her forehead against the window. hadn’t she? She’d fingered herself and come. and used her dildo and come. wildly flailing.“Oh God. “Hey. How could it not make sense to want to flash her boobs when what she wanted even more wasn’t there to put a cap on her geyser? “Oh God. oh God she needed to be touched. shocked by whatever she’d said but with his wide eyes like magnets pulling at her chest. and called Nicole and talked and come. her fabulous boobs bulging in her huge teal-colored bra. that’s what. everyone always drooled over them and she needed them to want to see them. like if she said it enough she might come to believe in such an impossible thing.

free to be pinched and fondled and cradled and hefted. tried to wipe away the awareness of how so many passengers were leaning into the aisles. unhooking her bra and letting her bounteous beauties swing free. if she kept going… “Oh God no!” They couldn’t arrest her. eat and drill. pulling at them and imagining Nicole’s wet tongue here. David’s thing slamming inside. or what I’ll do for money once the dream gig ends. banging her against the narrow walls. making it beg… “Ma’am? Ma’am. She let her knees bend. The door finally opened and she shoved past the little girl who came out. who cares? Even after showering this evening. making her scream and wail. and that hasn’t changed. she’d die if they did. begging for her pussy to be eaten and drilled. feeling the waves of excruciating excitement passing through her pussy. heads turned to the back to gawk at her desperate thighs and huge power-cleaning boobs. locking the door and peeling away the horrible clinging blouse. and David Sand’s fat cock down there. She tried not to see all the heads turned her way. gushing and rushing for the rear lavatory. sex continues to permeate my nostrils. pussy half-ready to explode with her tits screaming at her from the inside to set them free. and a smile on its face tends to bring a smile to my face.She shut her eyes again. eat and drill… Chapter Six — Float Like a Butterfly I feel like a changed man when I climb on my bike to head for work. making it leak. She had to stop or they’d stop her and she’d… Red in the face. especially after months of being shipwrecked on Right Hand Island. begging for more banging. tits pressed hard to the door. you can’t…” She blinked her eyes open. but living through it begins to look a little less daunting. People were staring… Oh God they were staring and some wondered what was the matter and most wondered if she had the best boobs ever and she could feel another geyser eruption creeping up on her from inside. and when . eat pussy and drill meat. gyrating slowly at the hips. Beyond my narrow concerns the world at large is burning. sucked hard with her hot lips all over her aching nipples. melting. detain her. I guess a boatload of sex can do that for you. she yanked her shirt back down with a growl and crawled over the man to her right. and still coughing up recession/depression phlegm. All that unfigured-out stuff is still there. warring. her huge chest fucking cleaning the door. another of the mind-wrenching blowouts that made her gush and sent daggers through her body and turned her pussy into a fucking sopping plaything but didn’t stop the fucking heat! She had to wait. On the other hand. nipples wiping it hard. for what she’d abandoned her appointments and probably abandoned her whole fucking job for! They couldn’t. but now my response can be: Whatever. I’m still a lost soul in a world that’s becoming more like a ball of broken promises each day. rioting. my dick is happy. saw two flight attendants leaning towards her. just banging her and fucking banging her without stop. making her want to fall or fly or crawl to him again and again. For many — and unfortunately I’m no exception — the future doesn’t look like it has much of a future. another debilitating orgasm. the door was locked and she rocked and sweated. One was a woman and one was a guy and didn’t they fucking understand that she fucking knew she couldn’t bare her boobs but she had to anyway? Only if she did. It isn’t like the blurriness of my life has suddenly become clear — I still don’t know if I’ll be in school in the fall. delay her from what she’d been clawing and oozing for.

and it’s driving me crazy. obviously. It was hard — my dick. hoping to intentionally-accidentally bump into an unattainable crush-cutie and carry her books to class. so I’ll believe that dream lust leads to real sex just as soon as Dr. if it isn’t good. for the first time in months I have an actual date lined up. She was kind of out of it and still horny when I had to leave. Anyway. because Sharon’s enthusiasm for my cock is so similar to what I wanted to lucid-dream with her that it feels anti-coincidental. huh? Did you lucid dream?” . and look at what’s happened to the world. Anne wears a shiny satin bustier under her lab coat. Her smile alone could make her the kind of girl an actual stalker might glom onto. That would be… unfortunate. life is good. And why not when life teaches that excessive hope leads to excessive disappointment? I mean. Sitting on my bike as the evening shadows grow longer. I don’t know how many times I can get off in a single day — it’s the kind of thing you learn through doing it. I love this unexpected turn of events – who wouldn’t — but it’s been creating disorienting thoughts. too. billions believe in a loving God who listens to prayers. As I approach. Sharon’s cum-crazed enthusiasm as effective an aphrodisiac as I've ever experienced. and no girl I’ve done it with was ever inclined to challenge my counting skills. but that means I’m beginning to believe in the impossible. and Mary obviously sees me. Several times I’ve wondered if I could still be dreaming. and just enjoy my dick aching the way a dick ought to ache. We’d done it something like five or six times already. “I had this intense dream at home today. I don’t want to be a sucker like that. and she looks fabulous. consisting of dropping in at Sharon’s apartment first thing tomorrow.the scent of pussy haunts your world. and I’m pleased to see that Mary’s car is not yet here. but also leaving when she was so ready to be plumbed again. I don’t have to wait very long. getting out of her car and standing beside it. to see if you can help me unravel a riddle. I’m not dreaming now. Or. It’s still light when I pull into the LDSP’s guest parking area — I’ve deliberately arrived early. I wondered if I could run it by you.” I admit. and the impossible belongs to the dream world. I feel a bit like a love-struck teen. “Should I feel stalked?” she asks as I draw near. my Honda’s engine purring between my legs. right after I wished upon a cunt and my wishes all came true. Sharon made it abundantly clear that I will be getting more of that — pussy — and that it will be hers. but I guess I’m even more of a die-hard skeptic about anything approaching the supernatural. at least the bad smells like pussy. unwilling to keep her hands off my dick when I walked her down to the street. I know I’m awake. nor real-Sharon be compelled to behave like dream-Sharon. but it’s the smile that’s telling me that everything is okay. not until today. Dream-Sharon could not become real-Sharon. but a predatory fixation on the bulge in my jeans said spread lips with hard sausage. the dream-butterfly I saw in my head today feels like it’s suddenly had offspring that have flown into my stomach. Her mouth told me it was for scrambled eggs and bacon. not unless Walt Disney has entered my life in triple-X form. Mary is wearing a clingy pullover blouse with a fairly short skirt and sandals this evening. “I’m definitely intercepting you for your dream talents this evening. I laugh at the fantasy. Anyway. I'm not comfortable with too-coincidental coincidences. unless I’ve completely lost the ability to distinguish the real from the unreal.” “Mary Freud Poole to the rescue. and draws me into a private room to model damp and fragrant peek-a-boo panties before begging me to fuck the living science out of her bones.

“It’s another state.” “So any ideas on the dream?” She frowns as she sifts through it.” “That’s an important dream. I can’t think of many dreams I’ve heard of where an archetype was so directly responsive. I asked what lies on the other side.” “Is that a good thing?” “Some women would say that it’s a very good thing. front and back and maybe even drilling from one side to the other. because I’m firing blanks and I know it. She said that I’ll need help to do it. “That’s brilliant.” She looks at her watch. I try listening to the word in my head. but…” “It isn’t to me.” Mary comments. I'm holding my breath as the butterflies in my stomach all rush down to flap their wings inside my dick.” “You’re new at this. her blue eyes seeming to peer inward.“Not even close. it’s Pennsylvania. And it’s very positive that your anima. “The part about Pennsylvania is pretty obvious. wondering if it’s supposed to sound sort of spooky. briefly closing her eyes. A major one. Think about it — what is Pennsylvania?” I see Philadelphia and Amish people. you know. I suppose we could give it a try. just to be sure. She said that on the other side of the bridge. You’re brilliant!” .” “Did she answer?” “Sort of.” I lie. And then when I asked her again. That’s it — something about your state has to be a certain way for you to have a chance of making a necessary transition. is so cooperative. and this is where the confusion comes in. like crossing this bridge is almost impossible. she gave me a completely different answer.” As soon as I hear it. “Then nobody cares but you and me. I end up shrugging my shoulders. or perhaps that you have to reach another state of consciousness to cross it. like Transylvania. that’s why. You must be in touch with your feminine side. “I think she’s telling you that the bridge leads to another state of mind. In fact. Gettysburg and mountains with coal. I scan the contours of her body while she isn’t looking — I'd like to get in touch with both of her feminine sides. lifting it up and stretching it out. “Some kind of life change is being indicated with the bridge symbol.” “Okay. I know that she’s right. This girl — maybe an anima figure — told me that I have to cross a bridge. which was: ‘Probably the same thing that’s right here’.” Mary offers. I’d guess.” “Pennsylvania?” “So you can see why I’m baffled. “If it’s not too long. Shoot. They don’t always answer a direct question. if that’s what she is.

” “Walk in together?” I ask. I know she stirs me with lust.“I wish. And what did dream-Sophie say earlier today? “Lust never sleeps”. Feelings. like the forces of withering and dieing that have been loosed on the world have stomped the heart right out of… well. I suppose I’m something of a skeptic about love. How true. I guess. We shouldn’t… you know…” “I understand. “I really do like you. and real… I don’t know. but I fail. that has enough raw energy to keep churning in a decaying world. “But it was only five minutes. either. The other… I don’t know. “I mean it isn’t like it’s out of the realm of possibility. I… I need this job. but there is a significant journey ahead nonetheless. so I guess I’m not too unhappy.” Mary wishes before walking on. It’s a tough world right now.” I fill in quickly. “You go on in. and they have very strict guidelines about this sort of thing. hearts. but everything changes when your state changes.” she jokes. If we’d met in some other way… But we didn’t. And love seems almost anachronistic these days. It’s as if she’s saying that nothing changes in one way.” “That’s plenty to think about.” I reply. I try not to stare too lustfully at Mary’s body as she makes her way along the blacktop. It sounds very mystical. Or something like that. I’ve never been very good at telling the difference between lust/attraction and love/devotion — I’m not even convinced that there is a difference. No doubt my fluttering butterflies will get smacked upside their antennaed heads if they take up residence in my heart.” I repeat. I’m going to soak in the sunset before they own me for the night. instantly wishing I hadn’t. which doesn’t really surprise me. especially with a heart-melting babe like Mary Poole around. not love. too. like it’s lust.” “I understand.” she adds. in case you were wondering. That one was easy.” “Good luck with the dreaming. but that’s not the only thing that seems to be stirring when I’m around her. *** I’m a little freaked when the night’s preparations begin without Anne being present. Mary. Lust never sleeps. and start taking themselves too seriously. The funding for my graduate studies has been cut off and… You know how it is. “David… They have rules. The fact that she chose a neighboring state seems to confirm this — it’s like you don’t have to go anywhere in terms of distance for things to be different. and how I wanted dream sex with her and ended up with the real thing.” “I should probably charge you my regular fee. but then I remember how pleased my dick is tonight. so I’ll let it slide this time. I’m not exactly happy about what just transpired. With Mary I want real sex. Thanks. “Good luck watching me dream. I’m disappointed at the . I think about Sharon again.

I don’t trust her for shit. but I’m almost certain that I saw him in the control room in yesterday afternoon’s dream. not only at the specific place. I think. The dreamme — not even the regular dream-me but my light body when it splits off. I could have bumped into this guy in the elevator. Real people in my dreams? Real things out here. those were real satellites you visited. um…” I begin. afraid that I’ll say something I’ll regret later. A verifiable image. I’m starting to wish that Anne were here for reasons that aren’t tied to her fashion model looks. if the place turned out to be a real place. and rattled that she would disappear right after I played mind games between her thighs in my sleep. “I. impatience making his voice hard. I try to find refuge in Mary’s theory about the “collective unconscious” — maybe I know where strangers really are because their existence is part of some grand consciousness-soup that I’ve tapped into.absence of on-the-job eye candy. I recall the London office. I flip through a couple dozen before coming to a sudden halt. but I trust these two even less. um… I think I recognize this guy from yesterday’s control room dream. and what it sees is real. thousands of miles from where I sleep. It doesn’t have to mean… what I know it actually does mean. its lone occupant in jacket and gloves. and the exact details a visitor would see if the visitor were truly there. goosebumps rising on my arms. or it’s absurdly more convoluted than the other thing staring me right in the face. Phillips pipes. and they sent me to specific offices in my dreams. only I’m too stubborn to admit could be true. “David?” It’s Eduardo.” I say. it’s not. they’re all mug shots. They can see into my dreams. visits real satellites in orbit over a real Middle East or a real post-2/18 Australia. A specific image. They’ve found some way to capture images from my brain! “David? You’ve recognized someone?” I want to scream. I was here in a dream. freezing cold with boxes lining a wall. recalling Sophie’s words from today’s dream: You know. isn’t it? No. I’m having a silent Holier Than Shit moment inside. my voice quavering. or passed him in the lobby. my heart racing. behind closed eyelids? “David?” Dr. and stop. Okay. there’s a more rational explanation. Offices where they would know the personnel. I feel like I just stepped into a Twilight Zone world. There are no satellites this time. They aren’t peering into my dreams — I’m telling them what I see when my light-body flies. I’m beginning to perspire and I know why. but I keep my mouth stubbornly shut. viewing the actions of real people in real places in real time. The face is easily recognizable — the guy’s features are fairly generic. the details of the room significantly changed from the photographs they showed me. I shiver. “I. That’s possible. observed from in there. And obviously more than that. Her absence is… a question mark. Dr. Phillips and Eduardo begin things by handing me another stack of photos to pick through. . because my dick is positively tingling with hope. but at a specific time. Real satellites in my dreams. and it has my entire body trembling.

David. too.” Eduardo indicates. When I’ve finished with the photographs. “I’m… pretty certain. in a meeting where they discussed my brain. and I hear an old clip of Muhammad Ali: “Float like a butterfly. even though I didn’t pay much attention to its design in my dream. Messages from the dream world that previously made no sense suddenly come into focus. sting like a bee!” “Have a seat right here. “Thank you. How much of this do you think you’re doing all by yourself? Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that you have the keys to the dream-car every time you fall asleep? They’ve changed everything. their meaning hauntingly clear. in fact — but inside I’m seething. Phillips directs. I can’t keep a shiver from rolling through me. with different personnel. They’ve shown pictures of people from the building because they don’t want me to believe yet. and I think I’ve finally identified the nature of the creepy energy that’s made my skin itch since day one in this program: I look into their eyes and I don’t see them looking back at me like I’m David Sand. I recognize another control room technician. not all of me but a formless piece of me. and now everything can be changed. Her ankles and calves didn’t look exactly right because I memorized them so well — they looked real because they were real. That was the real Anne. monitoring a young woman who sleeps when I’m awake. I can pinpoint the very chair where Anne sat. if I’m useful enough — property.” “Continue to the end. and I feel kind of emptied out. the walls might as well be invisible. floating rather than walking. They must know that I’m beginning to suspect. They know. and when we come to one particular door and Eduardo pulls out a key card. I see that Eduardo has a twisted little smile on his face. Pepper yesterday. and pictures of people I’d recognize from Hawaii… No need. They ask me to accompany them to another room. and . My changed brain. a test subject helping them to understand dreams. a woman. “We’d like to show you a few images for tonight’s assignment. not when awake. Now it’s empty. I think. or is there more to it? Have the fuckers been secretly working to create a butterfly inside my skull? I keep a straight face — expressionless. but doubt or uncertainty is a tool they can use for the moment. Do that table and the special cap I wear on my head do nothing but monitor me. They know that I can go anywhere on the globe in the blink of an eye. I look into their eyes and I see myself reflected as a tool.“You aren’t certain?” Eduardo demands. and vice-versa. As with every other person and event I witnessed in this room. Or. and crowded. and this is the long table I floated through to aim lingerie lust between her thighs. because I already know what it’s going to look like on the other side. and we walk down halls I’ve never seen. No wonder I couldn’t find Anne or Mary Poole to fuck with in that dream — it wasn’t a fanciful dream-reality but a different shift. But I’ve been here. The room was dark then. It takes a ton of self-control to keep from asking for a double shot of vodka to calm my nerves. The fuckers wouldn’t even get me a Dr.” he says.” I recognize the digital projector. They could have shown me a bunch of satellite shots.” Dr.

I’m an experiment. whether I want to be one or not. as seen from space. I just didn’t know it could go so far. of the same terrain and the same structure. it’s the map of Pakistan. I’ve seen from the beginning that this facility is situated just a few miles down the highway from the National Security Agency’s headquarters. Did they? “This small dwelling…” Eduardo begins. I can hear the assignments to come as though they’ve already happened: “We’d like you to visit this cave. and my pajamas make my skin itch like crazy. because everything that’s happened over the past few days is up for inspection. and take note of every person and every thing you see. this underground bunker. this suspected nuclear facility…” And spy. expressing concern: The changes are stable. so I try to keep still and concentrate on my breathing. whether it’s in the waking world or inside my own frickin’ skull. and who the fuck am I working for? *** Sleep is very far away when I’m finally on the table. It takes about half a second for the words “ultimate stealth” to leap to the front of my altered brain. and what would they do to me if they knew how much information I’ve concealed. ready to see two colorful images of my grey matter.” A familiar red light appears on the map. “…is situated right here. It’s the little stone house at the foot of the craggy mountain. and settles just north of a village called Ziarat. Even so. unseen and undetectable — incorporeal. not theirs. which in itself would be as miraculous as anything else I can think of. gone from chrysalis-weak to butterfly-strong. They can probably measure the general sense of creepiness I’m feeling right now. A series of increasingly zoomed satellite images follows. “If you achieve the lucid state tonight. and you can see the glass buildings of the NSA through the trees in winter. as a new image appears right next to the map. forever removed from the system just by stamping the label “enemy-combatant” onto a dossier. Instead. A door has been opened. or how many lies I’ve told? If I’m to believe half of what I read in the clandestine press. I don’t mind serving my country. clutching at one of the things I learned during my visits to Sharon’s yoga class. these might be the very people who make journalists and other inconvenient types disappear. but I’m not convinced that David is ready for this. Oh shit and fuck fuck fuck! What have I gotten myself into. I guess.never saw it with the lights on. And ten to one my four-leaf clover dreaming status means I’ve become a valuable “asset” to somebody. but it needs to be your door. When the room goes dark I brace myself. this embassy. this laboratory. You'd think that its location would be a closely held secret. I knew that — it wasn’t like they didn’t tell me they were seeking breakthrough knowledge about lucid-dreaming. configured now with brightly colored wings. the same one I’ve already seen in my dream. Ten to one I’m working for them. into every room. The cap on my head feels like a black spider clinging to my skull. we’d like you to visit this building. and why would I? The games they play are part of what turned civilizations upside-down in the first place. and able to be anywhere on the globe in the blink of an eye. or for a separate wing of research more or less tied to them. but there’s a bright green exit sign for the place. I’d have an ongoing job. Only I don’t trust them. I . My mind races above the breath. followed by the memory of Anne’s voice.” They haven’t changed me so much that I’m clairvoyant. Go inside.

the team can have few secrets once my light body is mobile. and how formerly unconnected areas grew together. that I’m not sure whether anyone at all is trustworthy. and how long has dream-me been alluding to changes to my brain. it’s like my less blinded subconscious mind has been working overtime to teach me from the inside-out. or penetrate impenetrable “undisclosed locations”. preparing to stop as an old man in robes steps out of the hut. and it’s become an impediment to seeing the new reality. or merely concerned that I might need a few additional test runs? That’s one of the most frustrating things about this turn of events. I think of those color-coded images of my brain. The moon isn’t quite full. I bring the bike to a halt right beside him. A gate blocks the road. What was once separated wants to be in relationship. peering into the guts of government to watch the sausage being made? I wonder if I could float inside a Las Vegas dressing room filled with butt-naked showgirls. like I’m a community inside of myself working to get along better. not theirs? It’s like one part of the mind is almost completely self-aware. once asleep. I’ve already seen that I can spy invisibly right here in the building. Rounding another bend. I’m hard-pressed to find anything in error. Relationship. When the dream figures speak I have to listen better. or even climb into the shower with her. Meanwhile. and different states of being. and quick in a way that the regular me is not. the dream figures trying to help the waking part wake up and catch up. Is it the ocean? The bay? The road is unfamiliar. it’s difficult to gauge your own intelligence when thinking that there’s a smarter-David reaching out to a dumber-David. and how I should make this new doorway mine. Dream-me knew that I visited real satellites. to watch them masturbate or fuck. . to be involved. Could I invisibly enter the headquarters of my bank. Well… I am. just like the dream-women have been saying. Thinking back on the messages I’ve received in my dreams. The whole of me is needed for action — the dream parts can’t just up and do things by themselves. and I recognize the structure as a primitive tollhouse. I gear my bike down. and watch her take a shower. just like I trust that this road will continue around this bend. or not very much at all. going slower so as not to outrace what my motorcycle’s headlight can illuminate. but it’s high and I can make out glistening water off in the distance. I see a little stone hut ahead. lit by a few torches on tall poles. I’m not a black helicopter conspiracy nut. even when it's shown to me. almost as if one part reached out to another. only I’m not as bright as they are. and learn every password on every computer that’s used while I’m sleeping? Could I learn where Mary Poole lives. The ramifications multiply like branches on a tree when I give it some thought — could I hang out at the actual White House. or hover over the beds of my favorite actresses and models. And why isn’t Anne here tonight — could they have sacked her for speaking out in that meeting? I wonder if she knew everything from the beginning — was she horrified at how they intend to use me. so if I wish it. even though I have the sense that I’m riding to a place I’ve been before. It’s probably not even a matter of intelligence in the regular sense — I’ve made the mistake of placing skepticism upon a pedestal. fishing in my pants pockets. I need to understand everything I’m trying to tell myself. so they need me. and trust it. but only an idiot could believe that the rules didn’t reset in unknown ways after 2/18. or… Well. I kick into a lower gear. Is that a world I really wish to get mixed up in? I can turn the tables somewhat.mean. seeing and faux-groping everything about her that makes my engines want to roar? I wonder if Mary knows everything. or only some things. I think I’m starting to understand something. or what I think of as regular-me. and trust better. even though I can’t make out what lies ahead.

only something isn’t right.” Step by step we round a sharp curve. where the pavement of the road ends and a new surface begins. “How many have made it to the other side. there is no other option.” the man speaks. “It just isn’t strong enough yet. fear gripping my heart. or… No. “That bridge can’t be crossed!” I declare. and when the road straightens out again I stop in my tracks. with a long white beard and a hunched body that’s probably mostly bones under the robes. “No.” he says. and he touches the flame down to some sort of oversized candle at one side of the entrance. There is a distinct beginning to the bridge. hand stroking beard. It was never designed to be crossed.” “Great. This guy could be senile. “Something’s broken?” I ask. but the old guy’s cojones are almost as big as those two round candles. “A bridge wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t meant to be used. but that bridge just can’t be crossed. “It’s too…” I don’t know what the right word is. not broken. “And don’t be so surprised.” my companion disagrees. The old man has a lighted torch in his hand. “No one ever comes here. but it’s not like any metal I’m familiar with. “They’re all the same thing. The candle is round and black. I touch the flame to the wick. “You need more than light to cross this bridge. It’s a clever play on words.” A twin candle waits on the opposite edge of the entrance. or perhaps an unintentional joke. either this guy is hung like a horse. leaving my bike behind. then?” “Can’t say. really old. because he’s really. about the size and color of a bowling ball but more roughly textured. I’ve been told that I must reach the other side.” he informs me.” “Let’s warm it up. “Not senile. if you would. There’s something that needs tending if you’re going to have a chance of making it. From the shapes that come into definition through the robes. “Light that one over there.” the strange man assesses. and his dick is huge. He may be ancient. Needs heating up. It’s a gigantic bridge. handing over his torch.” he says. “Just ancient. ambling forward. “Here.” he replies. I’m not sure what the material is — it gleams and might be metal. the same one I’ve seen before. “That isn’t the kind of change that’s needed. Walk with me. and it lights.” .” I fall into step beside him. “You need heat!” He reaches down and cups his balls with his hand when he says this. but I know I’m not being unreasonable. The bridge.” the toll man mumbles.” the old guy dismisses my sarcasm. You might be the first to try.looking for change. Everyone ‘round here has been enhanced.

Roowwwr! “It’s true that I’ve been enhanced. but the real me is in the sleeping chamber tonight. but neither should zipping around the globe to spy on real things from the dream world. “You’ve been trying to tell me things all along. with dreamNicole pressing her foot to my hard dick: You don’t have the foggiest idea how much trouble this could stir up. but it’s always you. It shouldn’t be possible. all thrown into a blender with some added sex juice.“Your… equipment was enhanced?” I ask. The rest of her keeps shifting. But it just can’t be possible. There was more. “’Recognize the energy. It’s a good thing that no woman is beyond your reach.” I turn and see Mary Poole. but I haven’t really heard them half the time. Now go out and stir up lots of it!” “Lots of heat? How?” “She’ll help. like she’s every kind of woman I’ve ever wanted to drill. like she couldn’t help it. And I’m dreaming. and with remembering the reality of the unreality sinks in. You might ignite a woman without even knowing you’ve done it. And I hear the things you say. I can’t touch the outside world directly from in here — I have no substance. They’ll be what you want them to be — how much clearer can I be?” Other messages that I ignored as bullshit come back to me: Being desperate for sex can be contagious. Well God fucking damn.” she replies.” I quote. my dream-cock has rocketed to attention.” she says modestly. or at least the dream-earth. No wait. I’m here at the entrance to the all-important bridge. I can do things. She likes the heat more than anyone.” “I haven’t given up on you. fuck that — that’s the kind of skepticism turned cynicism that’s kept me from understanding these messages all along. you know. confused. Only Sharon never had immense breasts like… It must be Gina Marie. I think of Sharon. But maybe. almost too sexy to look at. not the form’. Though I haven’t forgotten where the real me is. “It’s you again. because this must be the most ball-draining creature to ever walk the earth. She’s wearing a simple black dress with heels. “What did I tell you before?” I remember.” the shifting woman says through blended vocal chords. “And no one woman will ever be enough. only… Fuck.” I say to my female companion.” “What are you telling me? That I can have any woman I want? How?” “I’ve been trying to speak as plainly as I can. or mostly you. doing exactly what I beamed into her. you’ll see. altering the orbits of worlds. and they are watching with their probing instruments. her identity keeps shifting. what am I thinking? It’s Sharon. “You come in different disguises. “You know how I love change. . and affect things. You’re a rogue comet. like she’s a woman who can’t decide whom to be. aren’t I?” She doesn’t answer because I don’t need her to. too. and damn if her tits wouldn’t make Gina Marie envious. we both know that. “The bridge needs heat. can it? No. just maybe. or not the kind of substance that corresponds to the physical world.

in the sleeping chamber. and it kind of gets to me. I mean. Does that matter? Does it make something more likely to happen. Seeing Mary seated in front of her bank of equipment. I also know that there must be rules. I float into the control room and it’s exactly as expected. and they live hundreds or thousands of miles away. or had a dream ejaculation while inside of her? Would she go breathless. with vibrating points of brighter colors winking in and out of existence. And if I’m really here tonight. I watch for a few seconds. and now everything can be changed. too impenetrable. or feel an itch or indigestion or anything at all? I go right through Mary. But now that I know. For the hell of it. that’s me being a slow-witted doofus again. is what I’m all about when I’m in the lucid state — observing the actual world from an unseen perch. smiling inside as I float forward to come out her back. My dream cock is raging hard and I wonder if Mary can sense any of this.They changed me. just today. heat and soul. but what feels even odder is to study Mary while she’s studying the instruments that peer into me. and will myself to be right where I really am. I mean. and am I supposed to believe that she can feel that all the way in California? Anne. until we’re more or less occupying the same space. I beamed strip-tease action into Anne. however. I have a regular view of the control room again. not a dream version of the woman. I do lose my view of the room. Not in the way I’ve wanted to be. “You’re finally with me. what if I screamed my head off. or whether the wall between our states of being is just too thick. The “enhancements” being referred to here — they’re unnaturally enlarged sexual symbols. It’s really very lovely. partly out of curiosity and partly because I can. dream representations of some kind of potent sex energy that I can beam from one plane to another. The same with Sophie — I aimed desires into her just today. I don’t feel anything too strange — maybe a sensation of warmth and a subtle vibrating that I can feel throughout my dream body. or float. and what I see is smeared with a rosy hue. some of the women in recent dreams are from the past. “It’s about time. Including the lovely sexy Mary Poole. Only everything I’ve concluded would make that the real Anne in a real meeting. coincidentally. Which. or less? What are the fucking rules? I’m taking the impossible seriously and I need information — observable and confirmable information that helps me to know where I stand. and have to chuckle because I’m finally inside Mary Poole. Things go dark. right now. close enough that I could curl out my tongue and lick those angelic features clean. I can’t resist moving down and hovering close. Gina Marie and Nicole Dampley aren’t banging on my door to fuck me the way Sharon did.” my shifting sexpot comments. occupants of two entirely different worlds trying to understand what makes the other tick. Thinking it. because I was really there. I rise out of my dream-body. It’s effortless — no wonder I could hover over Sharon and me in my apartment earlier today.” Does she mean heart and soul? No. once my dream-eyes go inside her head. The rest of me would be halfway inside her computer monitors if I had substance. Didn't I think earlier that I wanted to drill right through her from one side to another? Once my dream-eyes are outside of her skull. and why should they? I haven’t seen them in years. or something like that. or one state to those in a different state. so close that we’re dream-face to living-face. and don’t even know where they live. then the expected monitoring team is on the other side of that wall. Fuck. but still… It’s intimate in a way I never could have imagined. I slowly float forward. Floating back . It’s like we’re simultaneously contemplating each other’s guts. sort of like a gentle abstract light show on a fluid screen the color of toasted rose petals.

to the point that she seemed to live for yoga-fucking me and sucking my dick… It’s damn hardening to imagine that sort of hunger burning behind Mary Poole’s blue eyes. the real me sound asleep and defenseless. lust. I’m well aware that I have competing urges inside. the other screaming at me to remember how vulnerable I am in here. and tell you how nice they look on you. I find myself wondering if it’s Mary’s angel face. Already I can see her eyes widening. I want… options. studying the fine legs and narrow waist. It could only be disastrous if I caused her to lose too much of herself. and dressed like I want her dressed. Looking at her like this and aiming behaviors into her has my dream-boner throbbing so hard that I’m afraid it might penetrate through the dream barrier and take on solid form in front of Mary’s face. and that it desperately needs my tongue tasting it. I want to do her — I’m not going to pretend that I’m above willing her to grill my meat if I can — but things are different now. I want more than proof. It’s like trying to find an intelligent balance. she’s gone out of her way to be friendly and helpful. and that I can create… well. just some sandbox dream-sex with no consequences. becoming completely cum-focused like Sharon. turning her into a drooling cock-sucking machine. and I’ve never seen that cold look in her eyes. If I compliment your tits in any way. your sexual excitement grows. not even a real person. created for the express purpose of devouring my cock. I add to the mix. and even if she’s not entirely in the loop. I treat Mary with kid gloves. not prudence. and find that I’m unsure of how to proceed. I definitely want to do more to her. shouldn’t I be able to juice her loins or tone things down depending on whatever she tells me in the morning? Every time I compliment you on the way you look. Considering how hard I am and how far I could go. that keeps me from going more hardcore. Now. You think you might be falling in love with David Sand. and no one involved except for me and my naughty little hormones. you’ll be completely truthful with me. like she can hardly believe the hormonal spikes and lightbulb brightness appearing on her screens. Before it was like playing around. but what’s even more attractive is that I genuinely like her. then no more proof will be needed. no matter what we talk about. She looks so sweet. If I complement your stockings. and I can just imagine how potent that sweetness would be if it got turned all molten. Unless she’s been put up to it. And once we’re talking. or delusional. If she’s at Millie’s. my cheerleading dick and cautious brain meeting somewhere in the middle.to my original position in front of her face. It’s not at all crazy to hear some alarm bells chiming alongside my desires — Mary sits right in the control room. dammit. the look that sees me as a usable thing. You think about me. the smooth arms and just-right breasts. I want potential avenues of lust to be determined then. stopping somewhere to buy a super-short skirt and red stockings that you think I’ll love to see. You’ll be compelled to drive out to Millie’s Diner right after work tomorrow morning. after seeing Sharon absolutely overcome with lust. one wishing to turn Mary’s pussy into a blast furnace. out of thin air. I begin. and thinking about me gets you sexually excited. but should I? The miniskirt and stockings will be enough to tell me whether I’m on to something here. I back up a bit and think about what I want to aim into her. . her mouth going all lipstick for my dick for everyone to see. Mary is a totally fuckable babe. I’m buying into the idea that what I’m doing might actually mean something. I float around her. I mean. like a vaginaflavored pastry oozing and bubbling in the oven. you’ll feel like you have the sexiest and sweetest pussy in the world. she’s part of the team. not now. your pussy will become like a cum-crazed black hole.

Her picture of my brain probably looks like the butterfly is jacking off by now. They figured out a way to jazz my brain cells in the direction of lucid-dreaming. and you’ll be able to function normally again. seeing on her monitors what I’ve undetectably been shoving into her mind and body. They’re aware that my brain lights up. But something extra must have happened to me. won’t I? Which has me praying that Anne is trouble. during the day if they knew what I was capable of. but I need the rest of the team to remain all-clueless out there. Respecting the need for continued secrecy. I’ve been enhanced in a sexual direction. and if it’s more… Well… If it’s more. but my lies have covered up the cause. because I want that kind of trouble. do they? They know about the light body. and how I can zip around observing things.I wonder if my actual body is panting and drooling in the sleeping chamber. I don’t know if it will work — I’m not one-hundred percent certain that any of this will work — but it’s an escape hatch. what her instruments would look like if I laid it on totally thick. I think about the fact that she isn’t in the building. just in case. and that’s given me… Whatever this is. Interlude — She Devils . just like the shifting anima woman and the old toll guy said. bouncing from location to location to make beautiful babes blow like wet volcanoes. with the side-effect of enhancing psychological archetypes native to the inner world. unsupervised. I’ll know for certain whether the trouble to come includes igniting and fucking any woman I want. I don’t know… Is a twenty-something guy with a vivid imagination and a rock hard dream-dick supposed to get all apocalyptic about having to deal with trouble like that? I didn’t think so. because I think I’m beginning to fathom the difference between being extremely turned-on and being freaky crazy-horny like Sharon at my apartment. then. like my entire body is built of heated anticipation. doesn’t it? I probably made a tactical error there. Control room — the team doesn’t have a clue how much I can control. not just to her but dozens of women. something they didn’t anticipate. and they haven’t yet understood the consequences. Maybe my butterfly brain makes me something like all-powerful in here. then your lust will ease. There’s no way they’d let me leave the facility and dream. and it makes me nervous. I aim one more thing at Mary: If I tell you to calm down. I thought I’d get nothing more than some teasing or dream sex when I thought my thoughts with her. And that’s from just wishing this stuff. Which. The butterflies I’ve felt all evening long feel like they’re dancing everywhere now. All of this means that Anne could be something of a problem. because I’m really not the most formidable guy when I’m sound asleep. Mary’s eyes have gone even wider and I know it’s from watching my brain in action. through earlier stumbles or tonight’s more deliberate and measured dream-plans. One way or another. committed when I didn’t know enough to be more cautious. That’s from a patched together toned-down menu of what I could do to her if she shows up. I laugh without constraint right there in the control room. sure. Just imagine. then I’ll have a world of pussy at my fingertips.

only her body wouldn’t let her die. but she couldn’t get there herself. dropping the phone to the floor as her fingers dug deeply into her big breast. opening her thighs wide and teasing her pussy. “Gina? Oh. tongued and oh God… “Oh God. stripping out of her clothes to be ready. the driver jerkily correcting some lane-wandering caused by the sight of her massive breast. . she reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. the man’s jaw dropping. pulling at them and he was only human and couldn’t help but look. and strong. with awe and lust welling up inside of him. Afraid. “H…hurry!” she shouted back at him. She didn’t know if the turbaned cabbie was a Muslim or a Sikh or any fucking thing under the sun. religiously offended and not wanting to look in his mirror. She needed Nicole… “Ohhh N…Nicole! I’m… I’m coming!” she promised the dropped phone. the pain of abusing her nipple no substitute for real faith. Nicole had always been strong. Didn’t the idiot know by now that her breasts were almost uniquely magnificent? He responded to them like everybody else did. closer than close so that her wiggling fingers took her over the edge. thighs opening and squeezing shut over and over. She felt the car swerve. pinching the firm long nipple and gasping. knees knocking. She’d been close all day. a real athlete. needing to get off into infinity. she’d just fucking lie down and die. his eyes filled with righteous anger. and the sight of her huge bared breast was knocking the faith right out of his eyeballs. “I… I put you out!” the driver shouted back. otherwise how could anyone hope to keep up? She felt a rush of panic again — what if Nicole wasn’t there? She’d die. She kept pinching her firm nipples. She squeezed her nipple harder. so fucking ready to be licked and stroked. and Gina thought she would need an athlete as her lover tonight. her legs flapping down below. venting heated breaths at the roof of the car. which was only natural. pulling her right breast completely free of her bra. like her pussy was in one of those pictures inside of a picture inside of a picture. He hated it when she said “Oh God”. oh God!” she shouted. waiting and dripping. She hung on to that little stab of pain like it was her new God. The bubble popped as she rolled her nipple clockwise. probably because he was at war with himself. She needed the original orgasm. a shaking index finger punching the redial feature. Gina ignored him. again and again. his voice breaking. teasing it and making it ready. The eyes in the mirror went wider. his lean face twisted as if her boobs were physically attacking him. wishing that his right foot would turn to lead. “I put you out!” he repeated. wishing them to be there. yet seeing that he was weak because he was unable to avoid looking. “Yesss!” Nicole’s voice hissed after the first ring. Gina! Are you close? Are you close?” Gina cried out. hoping her friend would hear and respond. but he was a man. eyes shifting between the road and the beautiful boobs in his mirror. a wet bubble of lust forming between her lips. torturing her with its need to be filled. it would just keep craving and throbbing and pulsing. almost brutally twisting until pain mixed in with the pleasure. the ultimate orgasm. clung to it and prayed that Nicole would be home.“You devil! You devil!” The swarthy cab driver kept calling her that. because everybody needed to look to see how beautiful her tits were. she’d tried that and failed. coming with abandon but never coming enough. her pussy like an unrelenting void. every blistering orgasm just another tease.

trying to appease it for another three miles. calling each other’s pussies. muttered angrily — what had she picked. don’t stop! I didn't mean… Here’s more. twenty more! Just get me there. she getting off in back. too close… The car swerved again. fucking grinding her poor teeth. rather than just accepting that he wanted to jerk off now? She saw headlights coming close.“I put you out! I will!” But how many times had he threatened to dump her from the cab already? They’d covered thirty or forty miles since the airport.. swallowed up in their volume. or perhaps even prayers. her fucking flamethrower of a beautifully built body. Nicole would do what she needed. in front. She couldn’t drive. and the phone buzzed… Oh yes. She kept shoving cash over the seat every time he seemed serious about stopping. It was useless to tell herself that she wasn’t gay. placing the phone between her thighs and squeezing as hard as she could. the descending scale of a receding horn blaring at them. unless the breaths were like deep panting sobs or half-delivered gasps from touching herself. but that was impossible — nobody had needs like hers. she wiggled her breast back into hiding. and the cab rolled inexorably forward. bending over to pick her phone off the floor. suddenly picturing David Sand’s hard dick wedged between her breasts. Nicole. with her searing senseless pussy dictating everything. dick tit dick tit… . leaving wet messages. his eyes unhappy but greedy.. suffocate or fondle. She was so stacked and sexy and nobody even dreamed of turning her down if she wanted them. his meat and balls lost inside of a humongous compressed tit-crack. Nicole. closing her eyes and seeing it. dick tit. and how could she trust her senses anyway? She had no reliable sense of anything outside of her own body. she knew that. the one cab in New Jersey with the only man in the world who cursed himself for responding to the magnificence of her tits. The driver looked. letting the phones vibrate inside. just like it would have been useless to try to rent a car. maybe they would do that — place their phones inside each other’s pussy. Dictate. towards Nicole. pumping and pumping and his dick absolutely engulfed in tit. briefly making her boobs glow before the shadows returned. she would just jump onto her and shove her huge tits in Nicole’s face and give her no choice. helping it to press thrillingly against her throbbing hellhole. suck on these hard nipples or die. electronically pulsing each other on top of everything else. dick-tate… “Dick-titting!” she spit. “No! Oh my God. and thought about dialing Nicole’s number again. pumping and pumping and so lost inside. gritting her teeth. dick between tits. pressing the numbers brail-like with their tongues. sopping wet and sometimes gushing from the never-ending flood inside. pulling her boob back out. If Nicole called. Afraid that he was forgetting to look at the road. she could barely even breathe. greedy for her tits as stripes of pinkish light swept through the cab. despite the cost of the cab. She fumbled below the swell of her boobs. stroking and pinching and dabbing. willing herself to hang somewhat together for these last four or five miles. his whole cock pumping against her soft hot flesh. She thought she could hear a similar need in Nicole’s voice on the phone. please!” He took her cash. more afraid that an accident would keep her from tasting Nicole's pussy. Nicole… She groaned. towards some cure for the gnawing hunger that wouldn’t… fucking… stop! “Stop?” the cabbie asked. Four miles and Nicole. and she wanted Nicole. her pussy so wet. "Oh yesss!" she approved. shapely delectable Nicole. he mumbling indecipherable obscenities. tapping the brakes.

hands touching and grasping. it was all so unbelievably hard. “What’s… hap…?” Nicole tried to ask. oh God so thick and hard. “You go to hell. turned again. When the car came to a stop she had another moment of panic. You get out you devil!” She was already out the door. you devil!” “I’m not!” she tried to say. gasped and couldn’t help lifting it to suck on her nipple. for pleasing His Hardness… “You cover yourself up!” her driver barked over the seat. She wanted to say more. “I don’t knooowwww oh oh OH!” Gina managed to wail. just one-half mouth-watering mile and if she just sucked on her tit. Nicole’s apartment was somewhere in the building. pulling into the apartment complex! “You cover yourself up!” the driver demanded again. just kept herself somewhat sucking fucking together for another few seconds… “You devil!” the driver shouted. squeezing her boobs together with her forearms. Her hands started to tease at her clitoris through her jeans again… But oh God. pointing. taking two steps at a time.“Dick tit dick tit dick tit…” she mumbled. She sort of heard the driver and instinct told her that he was right. she needed to say more but something took hold. trying to even see the numbers. She turned. the fucky fucker somehow doing this. it would just delay her from getting Nicole’s lips on her nipples or her head between Nicole’s thighs if she got hassled for having her boobs hanging out in public. turned the knob again and found it unlocked. and then her head was on Gina’s chest. making them so fucking long and her cleavage so dick-ready. the fucker. they were slowing. She squeezed her bared breast with both hands. it was someone else. trying to remember the number. a soft pliable immersion strip for his hardness. driving her mouth to Nicole’s . and what if… “That one. then jiggled the doorknob and heard buzzing. wet hot glue panting and melting. and she hastily shoved her breast back under the cup of her bra. hearing the clomp of footsteps racing down. spiraling up.” the driver said. running faster than when she ran track in middle school. a long fleshy David dick crack-attack. collided and held firm like glue. it had to be David Sand. running until she was pounding on the door with the flat of her hands. They collided on a landing. “You no cause trouble you get out of my car!” Hard. heated hands stroking even hotter flesh. up and down. collided with their things clattering. sucking on it right through the torn silk of her bra. or sixteen? “Gina? Gina!” She heard Nicole’s voice reverberating in the stairwell and she ran up. trying to arrange her damage blouse over it as best she could. but the sound was all muffled. lips closing around her left nipple. It was only an entry door to the unit. wanting her tits and making her want him to want her tits and need Nicole's tits too and oh God did she want Nicole's tits! “Ohhh!” she groaned. A glance at the driver’s navigation screen indicated only one-half mile. She cried out Nicole’s name again and again. She wasn’t a devil. her mouth opening and her huge boob bouncing down. Which building. running with her boobs undulating up and down. sucked and nibbled at her hard pulsating nipple. “You go. Nicole but it couldn’t be Nicole. so hard to think. the same something but even more gripping. the aftershocks rippling through her. She tried to remember the number — six.

Her friend was half-naked already. her nipples so hard. like a word-cock fucking Nicole with sound. freeing her boiling pussy. making her hips thrust. flopping and wiggling breasts into her face. the hot pungent smell of the day’s cumulative lust released into the air all around them. her right knee hitting hard on something. and she writhed and she kicked and was she falling down the stairs? “Ouch!” she grunted. She felt hot breath on her own pussy and screamed into Nicole. Gina pushed harder and rolled. so excited and hard. wet like her. hands on pussy and tit with hot pussies wanting to grind. sucking on it. She shouted David’s name into Nicole’s open pussy. bright pink panties that she pulled away to reveal flowing wet folds and a completely shaven beautiful glory of a pussy that she didn’t know how to eat but just shoved her mouth against. She came. trying to kick Nicole away and get on top. only David was hard enough. her lips wide and her tongue pushing inside of her lover. for her voice to inhabit and her fingers to stroke. all the frantic screams echoing. blubbering and jerking with Nicole screaming and the screams reverberating inside of her flowing cunt. The orgasm came in a body-wrenching double-barreled shot like she’d been coming all day but it flowed onto Nicole now. her breasts in Nicole’s hands. hard as David would be hard. She smelled cement but mostly pussy.breasts. emptying her out as her body erupted with white-hot stabbing jolting current. her desperately needed friend sucking on her clitoris. her pussy and Nicole’s. every action creating more blinding coming and more licking. her right hand grabbing hard between Nicole’s thighs. mouths on nipples. pushing with her arms. making her boobs bounce and her darting tongue flick wildly. to get her mouth on those nipples and suck. so hard. and raising her hips with her calves she somehow allowed Nicole to tear her jeans down her hips. hurriedly shifting around so that Nicole’s legs were in front of her. This was wet. She kept bucking. sweltering need pressing into a wet gushing mirror of that same need. this wet hot pussy-owner of a hot bitch friend. “Fuck me! Fuck me!” Nicole cried. It knocked the breath from her. Gina felt her knees buckling. pulled together like magnets with hips gyrating wildly to grind pussy onto pussy. Her boobs were overwhelming when they hung down. her hands tearing at Nicole’s blouse and bra to free her tits. maybe as deep as his cock. both bodies pressing to be aggressors. “Oh so hard!” she demanded of Nicole’s pussy. just flattening her face against Nicole’s wet pussy and never stopping. daggers of pleasure poking at every part of her body. needing to get wet and make Nicole even wetter. needing to jam themselves into this pussy. But it wasn’t hard. the oomph of hard contact with the cement stairs echoing around them. her wet stop-gap porn in a storm. naked flesh bouncing onto hard concrete. On her back she felt Nicole squirming onto her like a beached seal. clutching hands pulling at her jeans. eating and coming and eating more. She fought to get her mouth on Nicole’s nipples again. sucking like a vacuum and trying to make it grow. and coming onto Nicole made her mouth blubber against this hot pink needy membrane. needing to be fucked but insisting on fucking first. to bare her nipples. they could mold themselves onto Nicole’s face and she could dine on Nicole’s nipples and eat her pussy for dessert. tongue fully out with her cheeks mashed against Nicole’s muscled thighs. toppling Nicole away. filling . only thin panties as drenched as her own. fingers needing to stroke. “Eat me! Eat me!” Nicole shouted with clairvoyant urgency into the hallway. Nicole’s blonde hair blinding her. using her fingers to open it even wider so that David’s name could rush in deeper. jerking them down. a wet gap for her tongue and fingers to fill. yet her body was like a clawing animal trying to fuck back. deliciously hard nipples filling her mouth. even more gushing and frantic clitting.

This and this — not cock and foot. and I don’t feel any closer to understanding what this supposed transition is all about. Having to give up on feeling David speaking inside her own cunt. like the toll collector with his thing about “heating” the bridge. They heard ringing until Nicole began to scream. then… Then what? My soul needs heat. but her hands only met bare concrete. She pressed the redial button. felt Nicole's cell and opened it. She wanted it and fumbled in slippery futility with her hair in her eyes and their bodies awkwardly joining together. the impossibly sexy shifting woman proclaimed in last night’s dream. must get even harder and the only way was David. They both cried out. they needed him to make the demons scream. their screams echoing up and down the stairs. but it was Nicole agreeing with her. The best I can figure. Nicole's hand fumbling at the phone. You’re finally with me. The word “soul” leads me back to dream-Nicole. all working together to create some state where this whole transition thing will happen. and as the tones speeded she put the phone to Nicole's pussy. David!" Nicole cried. there must be some partnership between the heat or lust of the body. because a couple of ambiguous references suddenly click into place during the morning debriefing. bumping and gasping… Chapter Seven — Molting Meets Molten I wonder if I’m beginning to get the hang of this dream interpretation stuff. but cock and the sole of her foot? If the words “sole” and “soul” are only different in spelling. Gina kicked something with her foot. and he’s a part of my changed brain — my changed mind. piercing wails bouncing up and down the stairwell. On an impulse she reached out. the clutching artless sex too hard. pressing it hard against her. They needed his hard dick. and that the old guy was so freaking hung under his robes? He said he was enhanced. or sexual desire? Well… duh.. not meaning. Nicole had more than David's name inside of her pussy. heard it skid and stop.. David whipping their dirty demons with so much more than his distant machine voice. his hardness taming the devil she felt inside. the new workings of my brain and what I might call my spirit or soul. "I need. two bodies in a tumbling sex-grip. the bridge is a symbol of some major transition coming my way. bumping and wailing. David's voice swallowed into squishy silence as Nicole shoved her phone inside her pussy. but both knowing they could get even harder. pressing her foot against my dick while saying: Unite the energy of this and this. for her own fuck-phone. Mary surmised that it might be a new state of consciousness. “So… so hard!” she thought she heard an echo. forming a tightly interlocked ball with four writhing limbs. Was it a coincidence that the huge candles were round like testicles. or that I need to make come my way. hard nipples pressing into hard nipples. All of this is pretty damn deep for me to contemplate. making everything too frantic. His machine picked up. getting hard with David’s hardness. needed though the need tore at them.her with hot breath and the named name of what they both knew they needed even more than this. She gushed frustration — it wasn't fair. His voice was inside of her! Gina felt frantically for her handbag. but it seems . Gina whipped her body around to squeeze her colossal breasts against Nicole’s smaller ones. no echo at all. wet fury making the devils dance and need to dance more. heat and soul. According to Mary’s interpretation. Unless there are meanings within meanings. two she-devils writhing like pink fuck-me salamanders down the hard cold stairs. David's machine voice speaking against Nicole's dripping wet box. she had his fucking voice! Her fingers desperately probed inside of Gina and met hard plastic.

“The readings were somewhat different than usual through the night as well. They found a test subject whose mind could be configured the way they wished. Dr. I know — but then I had the sense while doing it that it had no chance of working. like my brain is so full of butterfly poo that the actual meaning of the LDSP’s acronym zipped past me unnoticed. Phillips and Eduardo. blah blah blah. It’s all an act. I mean. or had managed to keep my . Hell. like my heart really wasn’t in it. Phillips makes a slip of the tongue when he calls the program the Lucid Dreaming Surveillance Program. the reality is that my paranoia index is at an all time high this morning. Phillips has been sucking pretty enthusiastically at his pipe all morning. aren’t most “enlightened” people ascetics. instead of the special program as they’ve sold it to me all along.ridiculous that my gonads would be the engine to send me into Nirvana or something.” I say. of course. Phillips and Eduardo exchange glances. but the kind of event that would surely turn my waking life into a living nightmare. Especially if we’re talking about people like Dr. about how much of a guy’s thinking takes place below the waist. like it’s crucial that I’m driven by sexual desire when I want to affect someone. but how much what I want to do is very anti-establishment. but that's just the way it is. Though it would surely get me buried neck-deep in shit — perhaps even water-boarded if they’re of that ilk — I couldn’t resist aiming urges into them while still in my light body. I'm pretty sure that Eduardo noticed. to give each other a blowjob during this very debriefing session. Totally juvenile and self-destructive. It’s a sexy fantasy. and not the kind of glances I’m looking for. Dr. going tag-team at me pretty hard this morning. breathing heavily as she asks me to accompany her to another room for more intimate questioning. not with any certainty. I don’t flinch or react at all — they can interpret my disinterest as they wish.” Dr. Are you worried about something? Trying to solve a particular problem?” Only what to do if you fuckers are part of the Evil Empire. and how relevant that is to the success of the program. how essential it is that I give them complete and straightforward answers. because I see his eyes go cold and angry for an instant. I keep imagining her waltzing through the door in a translucent bodystocking and six inch heels. and it appeared that you were engaged in highly focused problem-solving through much of the night. We also detected an elevated state of emotional anxiety the entire time you were being monitored. And no way am I ever crossing a bridge that leads to a sexless existence. I look at them with fake earnestness as they go at me about my emotional state. not for any sexual thrills… And that’s probably the key. The unusual highlighting on our instruments returned. “Just some minor personal stuff. Phillips and Eduardo would probably shoot me if they knew how my mind actually works — not only what I might be able to do. my duo of lying scheming debriefers. but that’s an oral fixation I’ve witnessed for nearly a week. Dr. it's not so much because I’m above wanting things. and it doesn’t bother me one bit. “It took longer than usual for you to fall asleep. I’m not even one to go around proclaiming that human beings have souls. Heat. Phillips tells me what I already know. That feeling of indefinable pixie dust I’ve experienced while aiming sexual needs into women was absent. I could take the toll man’s fixation on heat as a sign that I need to feel lust for any of this fantastic stuff to work at all.” Dr. or like I heard but already knew. “It’s no big deal. and I think it has to do with Anne still being absent. and basically perverted. or even celibate? I’m fairly poor. I don’t really want to see these two farts whip out their dicks. but they underestimated how true the jokes are. I find myself wishing that I'd known what I was doing from the beginning.

They barely listened to this material the first time. she can wait. I get the sense that these two jokers absorb my dreams the same way a kid absorbs a porn novel. which is what I assume they hoped for. but I have other . and I can see that I’m going to have to give these A-holes an excuse for my agitation last night. and that’s an essential thing for me if I’m going to be in a relationship.hormones chilled for just a couple of days. “She’s insisting that we get back together. because those were actual lives beneath me. They aren’t at all happy with my “no big deal” evasion concerning their instruments’ readings. mentally skimming past half of what I say because they’re anxious for me to get to the “good stuff”. don’t worry. dressed a particular way. devoid of my shenanigans while floating and lusting inside the building. we know that. I might be misinterpreting something. giving them a thin slice of truth in lieu of another lie. They think they’re so smart. It’s a good thing that no woman is beyond your reach. and for the first time I felt kind of dirty while in my light body. But Mary is Mary. I saw some things in that house that should have remained private. I promised to go to Sharon’s place first thing after work. Sharon. but from where my dick sits it got a green light last night. So the smart part of me said it’s a good thing. and knowing whether Mary travels out of her way. but is there more to it. Sharon has it all — looks. It’s not even a close contest. filled with the complicated behaviors of real people living under conditions of extreme poverty. and I’ll try to be better at leaving my personal concerns at home. It has nothing to do with my work here. and so I go with the tactic that usually works for me. and after the way she sucked my cock. how my conscience wasn’t bothered when aiming sexual thoughts into beautiful women over the past few days. There wasn’t much to it — no stash of weapons or guys in turbans wiring homemade bombs. just to make certain that no details have been left out.” they move on. So fuck Sharon. “Let’s go over what occurred when you finally did fall asleep. very aware that Mary Poole will hear every word I say. a mouth and throat that might have been patented by Dirt Devil. and I see them tune partway out again as I describe the old man blocking the passage of my motorcycle. and I’m… I’m not sure how I should handle that. I felt sort of horrible floating from shabby room to shabby room. is to know whether I have a seat at the throne of Mount Olympussy. I’ll sort it out. but after hearing Mary’s nuanced interpretation of symbols. Tell the entire dream a second time. Odd. That might be melodramatic… but I’m guessing not. I get the sense that I’m being threatened. even though nothing in that direction has been said or otherwise indicated. Cooped up in the debriefing room with only Eduardo and Dr. the parts where I blinked myself right to their stupid stone house in the mountains of Pakistan. The house contained more women than men. flexibility.” “Very well. then. It isn’t like I want to punish her about it. I don’t really think I love her.” I give them an abbreviated version of the toll booth dream. otherwise I might have black cars and guys in sunglasses tailing my motorcycle in my off-hours.” I lament with exaggerated angst. One thing I’m not going to lose any sleep over — ha ha — is getting hot babes horny. “My ex-girlfriend showed up yesterday. Phillips. It doesn’t take much imagination to see that I might have ethical dilemmas up the wazoo with a colorful butterfly flapping inside my grey matter. I didn’t understand that what I did was real until just recently. and if Mary Poole shows up at Millie’s Diner this morning… Oh fuck. like having an ephemeral hard-on makes everything okay? It’s an interesting question — an ethical dilemma. without having learned how to unscrew my missteps. and half a dozen kids. straight from the super-sexy woman’s mouth: No one woman will ever be enough. I'm afraid that I've already screwed everything up somehow.

and I stop at the top of a small rise to see whether any trailing vehicle might be creating a similar plume. “You sure you have a stomach to put them in?” “What do you mean?” “I mean you look like someone ripped your guts out this morning. all right.” “You know I can’t resist your hash browns. asking whether they’re looking for anything in particular. “Something… fell through. but my hopeful heart smacks into a brick wall once I arrive at Millie’s.” I flatter. I suppose that isn’t the same thing as a completely free trip — even with EZ Pass you get charged. and it’s a hard call to say which is more deflated — my hopes or my dick. and I can feel my heart racing almost as fast as my bike as I make my way past the charred Walmarts and other skeletons of what the surviving mainstream media still refer to as “global wreckonomics”.thighs to fry. David?” I must have quite the hound dog face. riding onto dirt roads that cut through formerly productive farmland. that’s all. Even going slow and steady my bike kicks up a long cloud of dust. prodding and poking and sticking me in the tube for additional brain scans. “Two visits in one week?” Millie greets as I enter and take a seat at the counter. and Mary Poole confirming that my dick has EZ Pass into any pussy that fills me with desire. I try chatting with the technicians for a change. but I do a lot of checking in my mirrors.” “Too bad. which I have to admit is a nice touch. Mary’s car is long gone when I leave the facility. One bespectacled smart-ass cracks a joke about the porn movies playing inside my skull. *** They keep me more than ninety minutes late at the facility. What happened. I circle around the building just to make certain. just think of the morning it could be — Millie’s coffee or maybe even her hash browns in my belly. I’ll change. I feel pretty secure when I get my Honda back up to speed. maybe because I just lost the scent of all the comely foxes in the world. Unless the fuckers are tracking me from satellites — maybe I should learn how to screw lens caps on every one of those things when I fly in my sleep — I have to conclude that my free time is still basically free. Right after they slide me into the tube. like I’d suddenly stumbled onto more luck than I could believe. “There must be changes in the air that my astrologer forgot to mention.” she answers. which went beyond the monetary. and direct the bike off the paved highway at one point. and unsupervised. I guess — silly isn’t it? I thought… I don’t know. because Mary’s car isn’t in the parking area. the same guy absently whistles “If I Only Had a Brain” from the Wizard of Oz. placing her small . and the toll guy in my dream did ask for change. It might be unnecessary paranoia. If Mary Poole is sitting on a stool at Millie’s. I mean. I’ll change from a cynical confused loner to the man with the happiest dick in the universe. I had high hopes. which makes me wonder if it’s already out that I creamed in my pajamas the other night. when the whole planet could use someone decent to get lucky. And I’ll make certain that I’m not the only one that feels like falling to their knees to give thanks.

I couldn’t even guess how many readings these coins have been involved in. But how could I have gotten things so wrong? I didn’t dream all that sex with Sharon yesterday. Millie? What are we doing?” “We’re doing the Ching. to apologize for being delayed. Besides. “My mother passed these coins to me. even an understanding someone like Millie.” . looking life-worn and listless. “It’s important to be given your tools — the energy is much better. but a customer asks for their check. “What is this. All the dream messages pointed in the direction of Mary Poole being here — I thought for sure that she’d be unable to avoid being here. and it’s about the same as the day before. “It’s time to do a reading for you. Sex with her this morning would feel like a small consolation compared to what I was hoping for. aren’t I. I look at the payphone near the restroom doors and think about calling her.hand on mine. to start believing in the unbelievable. I think she’s going to say something more. All the important decisions in my life came about with the help of these coins — everything from marrying Dan to whether or not to buy this old diner. and you never realized how much we’re in the boonies? If it weren’t for all the water. leaving me to work through my sorrows alone.” she says in an almost-whisper. pulling out an elaborately patterned wooden box. I kind of do. I guess it was dangerous thing. I’m just a younger version. Millie comes back and she asks in a very gentle way if I want to talk about it.” she says. but I don’t like being teased about things I take seriously. “I’m going to share a little secret with you. It’s not the kind of thing to admit to anybody. I don’t care if I offend anyone or not. with just a few older customers. mostly. like my dream-wishes would lodge in the back of her brain and nag at her without mercy. “Has anyone ever helped you with a reading before?” “The I Ching? Never. which are dated from the 1960’s with some areas so smooth that I comment on their worn state. But why all the secrecy?” “Out of respect for the ancient art. although now I’m back to wondering why it happened in the first place. mostly men. it’s too far-fetched — that anyone could have that kind of ability. I’d swear some days that this diner is sitting in the middle of Kansas. probably on a downward spiral even though everything about my life suddenly feels like it’s standing too fucking still. but I can’t drop a story on Millie or anyone else about how I thought I was on the verge of scoring pussy all over the world. She hands me the pennies from her box. I guess not. sliding its lid open and removing several dull pennies. but you have to promise never to tell anybody. but it would still be sex. and occupied. barely larger than a box of matches.” I nod. and Millie reaches down behind the counter. or that anyone would start to believe in such a thing.” she explains. But also… You lived here all those years. and she gives me a little nod. I look around the place. glancing to make sure that the two remaining customers in the diner are taken care of. I was so certain that I’d figured things out. “David?” she fixes her eyes on mine in a way she never has before.” She also mentioned an astrologer a few minutes ago — flake city — but I keep my mouth shut and follow her lead with a semblance of great respect.

It’s the same kind of thing when taken as an inner or personal movement.Without making a racket of it. or Revolution. or it’s coming. It’s never easy to face the unknown. too. You’ll probably have to sacrifice something. your aspirations.” “I’m in an emergency situation?” “Thought so. The way Millie is concentrating. in a place where great transformation is possible. She looks at me significantly. something to be watchful for. meaning swift and decisive change. but the key is their arrangement as a whole. you name it. and watch as she makes corresponding marks inside of a worn little notepad. In an outward way. “You really are in the thick of it. and only in emergency situations. my flesh tingling.” Christ. on an unconscious level. “Go on. It’s too potent a tool to play with for fun. By the time we reach this fifth line.” she whispers when there are six broken or unbroken lines drawn onto her pad. these lines are tied to political revolutions. The growth is needed. Some part of your life is in a state of metamorphosis — that could mean your attitude.” “And that’s a good thing or a bad thing?” “We all have to grow. but all major changes take place in an atmosphere of upheaval. where the old ways of doing things are replaced with an entirely new order. I cast the coins on the counter as she directs. “Been doing this since I was a young teen. “Forty-nine.” she indicates with a finger. “is called ‘wrapped in the hide of a yellow cow’. an upheaval of the masses against unjust or unwise rule.” . she sure takes it seriously. “You have to know that when the time comes.” “You’re getting all that from these lines?” “Each individual line has its own meaning.” “You have all this stuff in your head?” I ask with astonishment. It might be something as obvious as your job or a relationship. needing to cast off old things to give birth to something new inside of you. Be the tiger when the time comes. paying very close attention now. You’re molting. or whether I’m really supposed to believe that this is profound or not. for instance. we’re at ‘the great man changes like a tiger’. and sometimes almost too quickly. “Being in a place of change is quite positive.” “What kind of change?” I ask Millie. This first line. David. You’re like a snake shedding its skin. and now I know it. I have no idea what I’m doing.” I urge. and her respect for the activity sets the tone. aren’t you?” “Forty-nine what?” “Hexagram forty-nine — Molting. but there’s always a darker side to even the best hexagrams. or what she’s doing. and you’re either facing it now. The main thing is that you’ll eventually have to race past any fears that hold you back. but only giving readings to close friends. or the changes could be taking place mostly hidden away. like a missed opportunity. otherwise it’s all for nothing. or what feels like personal risk to the ego. It speaks of pretending to be docile as one’s strength gathers.

“I’ll poison her tea if she’s here to drive a stake through your heart. I see her forehead furrow. walking behind Mary for the view. and all the sacrifice and turmoil involved in something like that. The woman’s legs are just fantastic. The point is that a transformation can’t take place without giving something up. “Join me for breakfast?” She nods vigorously. her blue eyes wider than usual. and this time it takes a hell of a lot of willpower to keep from speeding up to give her rear a good hard poke with my aching dick. And God fucking damn! Mary looks like a piece of Valentine’s Day fuck-candy — red heels.” I say disingenuously. and she looks past me with an expression of concern. because she’s nailing me with half-understood truths just like the anima women do. I whisper to Millie: “Things are looking way up all of a sudden. Or again.” I look at Millie and I have this eerie sense that she stepped out of one of my dreams. and mutters under her breath: “I’m surprised you didn’t get number fifty-one: The Arousing. “What?” I ask. I’m wondering whether to ask an extremely touchy question that pops into my mind — whether she had any foreshadowing of her husband’s untimely death through I Ching readings. Imagine a political revolution. and the color red pours out. red thighhigh stockings. Before I can decide whether to go there. a black skirt so short that several inches of creamy thigh show above where the stockings end. my cock as hard as the Formica countertop.” she says.” I see what she sees — Mary Poole’s car pulling up right in front of the door.” I breathe out. “Whoa. “I can’t believe you’re here!” she gushes with a mixture of wonder and relief. “Holy sheeeiiittt. like a gorgeous flower glowing in the morning sun. It’s all topped off with a red scooping sleeveless pullover that clings to every delectable inch. then you owe me a case of beer. The driver’s door opens.” Millie’s smiles. turning to where her eyes have gone. a snake shedding its skin — at the very least the snake has to leave its old self behind.“And the sacrifice?” “Is inevitable. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m definitely awake. and the new skin might feel raw for a time. I have a moment of doubt. and this is the real Millie. and try to float out of my body… No.” Millie whispers. touching my hand again.” Even more than arousing — I’d say fucking molten. “Mary!” I exclaim with real emotion as summer heat and almost too much carnal appeal breezes through the opened door. As she turns. Because her reading is so dead-on. their exquisite shapeliness accentuated . I stick to my pattern. my cock and aspirations suddenly feeling too big to fit inside the diner. If it’s the other. “I don’t know if this is going to make you feel better or worse.

“More coffee for me and a… tea?” Mary nods. “It’s been an unusual morning. and I’m on the alert for any visible signs of her emotional state. or that I was brave enough to wear it in public! It’s so… so call girl. and that there aren’t many around anymore outside of the urban centers. and might be the most appetizing three inches of skin I’ve ever seen. practically standing over top of Mary. waiting for the right moment to approach. wondering how she’ll explain it. because it knows that I can set her off like a bottle rocket. some nervous fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers. the realization has hit me that all of this crazy shit is actually happening. “I stopped to shop… Nothing was open. My entire body is tingling with excitement. I’m not clever like a brain scientist. but it looks like she went for the whole I’m-so-incredibly-fuckworthy makeover once she began shopping. because now that Mary is here and dressed to kill. asking what we want to drink. even so I’d already figured out that Mary Poole would have absolutely scrumptious tits. and I have this odd sense that Mary Poole and I are both virgins. My dick is ecstatic.by stockings with vertical wavy nylon stripes of more or less translucency. “You just decided to drive out here today?” I say like it’s the most unexpected thing in the world. or some other movie-style expressions of a woman feeling sexually enlivened as she’s falling in love.” “And you keep a change of clothing in your car?” I ask with my eyes roaming a red sea filled with curves. and I finally have a real woman to manipulate. and the weight of it feels like it’s frying my nerves. but I hoped you did. just by flattering her on the stockings or her tits. so that she feels newly stunned every few seconds. poised to explore an entirely new form of sex that we barely understand. We slide into our familiar places. But David the Dream-Deviant had his shit totally together last night. I guess I expect fawning eyes. but what’s the need when the entire ass is wiggling so beautifully in the barely-there skirt? I didn’t tell Mary to get new heels or a new blouse. like she’s searching for an expression or some signal that would give her a hint of what’s going on. or… I mean. If my dream-commands were firing on all cylinders last night. are more tanned than I would have thought.” she exhales. because I’ve never deduced a truer thing in my life. Mary blushes. and I… I panicked… I had to wait and then… I don’t know what got into me! I can’t believe I bought what I bought. “I… had this urge to be here. Score one for the guy whose brains got jumbled. like someone is tapping a “refresh” key connected to her brain. I didn’t know whether you make a habit of coming here. Millie makes “What a dish!” eyes at Mary. right in front of my non-dreaming eyes. like her cheeks are trying to catch up to all the red cotton and nylon. it doesn’t look bad on me and I was… kind of hoping you’d like it?” God fucking damn I like it. What I see is a quiet kind of breathlessness. If I squatted on the floor I’d be able to see the beginnings of two round ass cheeks peeking out. I see that Millie is standing a few paces back from our table. because of Mary’s association with the . Obviously David the Dream-Doofus forgot to remember that clothing stores wouldn’t be open early. In a way I’m wondering the same thing myself. The tops of her thighs. But the equation is thornier for all the non-dick parts of me. then she’s going to be compelled to be truthful with me. I make eye contact and she comes forward. and a lot of wide-eyed blinking. uncovered and squeezably smooth. I like it about as much as I’d like to open a tap on all the sexy female hormones in the world. then looks at me oddly. which appears to be an achievable goal.

“Mary…” I say. literally begging me to shove my dick inside her pussy. and I don’t want to screw things up on my very first attempt. and for some reason I hear mental echoes from the critiques in my photography courses. where I’d catch shit for experimenting too much. But I know where this conversation is ultimately heading. Mary. looking down at the salt shaker. and the minefield I could be treading into if I screw her up in some irretrievable way. In a public space I’ll need to keep my rpm’s down. but then something happens behind the blue irises. I’m breathing heavily and my dick aches like it’s never ached before. I feel half-drunk.” She smiles in a pleased but modest way with both her eyes and lips. Is that right?” “Yes. like it’s become the Ferrari of dicks with a ridiculous amount of power under its hood. and the question of how far to go is almost too big to grapple with. and just by uttering her name I can see the dream commands trembling inside of her. I’m a slow burn kind of guy by nature — why else cling to the old method of developing photographs in a tray. and male/female relationships are no exception. “I’ve had this feeling from the beginning that you have something that you want from me. I mean. but that would mean stopping myself from doing what I know I’m going to do. the old bridge guy said in last night’s dream. I could stop it from going there. and able to walk to her car. and she utters a barely audible “Uh!” with her rear squirming in her seat. Rather than easing back. All of a sudden I’m in a whole new situation — Mary won’t have a chance of escaping my chemistry. waiting breathlessly as something exciting develops. just by uttering a few words? Are we talking about that much influence over another human being. or any additional encouragement. I’m not going to say those words yet. Go out and stir up lots of it. or that you want to understand about me. which is extremely intoxicating. Gorgeous as she is. like her pussy is yet another wick awaiting the torch. like expectancy is fermenting right inside my brain cells. but without any guarantee that the chemistry will be any good. I never expected to have to make a decision like this. I finally say: “I think you look incredibly beautiful. which she’s fondling absently with her right hand. where all of their inhibitions and personality traits can be wiped away in a few seconds? My hands are trembling from imagining it. Choosing my words carefully. The effect on me might be even greater than it is inside of her. She swallows hard. the wave seems to gather and crest. or doesn’t. I knew you were a lovely woman. holding back the words that would have Mary Poole tearing her skirt and panties away… But come on — that’s only for now.research. With Mary dressed as a fuck-me doll. electrifying her from the inside. and has me wondering how much of a Marymeltdown Millie could witness without calling either the cops or paramedics. you put yourself in play only knowing that you find someone attractive. because I want Mary coherent for a few minutes. Mary isn’t an art project. waiting to hear what I think of her new clothing purchases. I hardly need the old guy’s blessing. Heat. because I’ve never witnessed anything so stirring in my life. At the beginning of any relationship. She’s been quietly hyperventilating over there. could I have Mary Poole writhing on the floor. or even more shit for not being experimental enough. But there’s more to it. watching an image emerge gradually under dim yellow light? I prefer processes that tease before unveiling their true nature. too. and two simple compliments held in reserve that should act like Taser guns stunning her pussy. like a wave of energy passing through. I… I need…” . but damn.

I don’t understand what I’m seeing. creating the drives that brought her here in the first place. giving her no chance to escape. helping you to focus and maintain the light body. but there’s more to it than maintaining the lucid state and the separation of the light body. “Tell me what you believe you witnessed through your instruments last night. We’re not getting back together. face beet red. You’re hormonal levels… and all that energy in the brain… It’s not what they think! You’re getting off in your sleep. Only… different. her eyebrows showing a lot of tension. But I think your mind and your entire glandular system… have found this unique way to operate together and I… I don’t know how it works.” She smiles for an instant.“Tell me what you need. between the brain and body. correctly dispelling the lie she heard earlier in the morning. and the smile is forced away. like she’s fighting the urge to let it out. .” she concludes. and it… it…” “It what?” “Oh God. I know you are!” “Getting off? You mean that I was having sex in my sleep last night?” “Sort of. I know there is. like there’s this… alliance. or fleeing to the restrooms to keep from confessing anything else she wants to keep secret. But I mean… it’s… sexually exciting. “I need to understand… what’s happening in your dreams! Your hormone levels last night… In fact all of the readings… For a while you were lighting up like crazy. and now she’s confessing things to me that she’d normally leave unsaid. “The others believe that your glands are providing energy for you to concentrate. averting her eyes. even squints her eyes shut. but I know! It’s a form of sexual activity right there on my screen. “You weren’t problem-solving about your girlfriend. like she's frozen with the realization of what she just divulged. you mean?” “That. “I… heard what you said this morning about your… girlfriend?” is her response. and just watching it… I never thought I’d see anything like that in my life and I got… I got…” “Keep going. then seems to realize that she’s doing it. too. I see the corners of her mouth twitch. it… makes me feel all prickly and…” “Prickly? What happens when you feel prickly?” “Uh!” she vents uncontrollably. I see her eyes dart. She looks away. She looks down.” I hurriedly prod. “Ex-girlfriend.” I encourage.” Her eyes flash. She’s probably been wondering all morning why she can’t stop herself from doing certain things. I wonder if she had any sense that I was there in front of her or even inside of her last night. “It was so incredibly exciting! You can’t understand… how it makes me feel…” “How professionally intriguing it is.” Her mouth remains an opened "O" after that one. like she’s thinking about running out.

“You’ll feel better. I’m sure. getting off from her getting off. getting me so agitated. my… my… p…pussy… so needy and I… Why can’t I… Dammit. Last night was especially powerful. “Mary. If I'd stuck around rather than zipping to Pakistan.” “But… it messed me up!” she almost explodes. just… It was like I had a dream lover inside of me. It was like I was on fire inside. like her problem is garden-variety repression.. But there’s just one thing I want to know first. where I… I kept waking up in the night. so hot and… I’d masturbate like crazy.. It was a whole series of dreams… They came sporadically when I was a teen. “I mean… I under-exaggerated. Either what we’re talking about is providing fresh excitement. so incredibly hot and… I’d… I’d… masturbate… Fuck. I couldn’t get enough. though. I…” “Just let it out. No matter. “I… had to take a break last night…” she whispers. lips full and quivering.” “They weren’t dreams with a story. And then… Well. because I’ve been having a lot of sexual dreams recently. but… I had no control over when the dreams would appear! I was so… needy… I sought out real relationships. because I’ve never seen or heard anything so hardening in my life. you’ve completely nailed me. “It was like I had this incredible sex life… all alone in the night. “I… I lied about that!” she reveals in an outpouring of breath. Mary. because I’m about ready to go for the kill right now — it’s almost like her systems are freaking out so much that a part of her is begging me to go for the kill. I could have floated with her to watch her play with herself. I can’t believe I’m telling you this!” “What’s so embarrassing about it?” I ask. The orgasms were unbelievable! I… craved them. “Tell me all about these dreams.I take the opportunity to stare at Mary’s tits. or her body is still responding to the compliments I dropped several minutes ago. about having intense sex in your dreams one time. and another minute of this is going to have my dick ripping a hole through my pants and upending the table. getting me so. maybe even passing into her body again right when she came. even as she struggles to keep from saying things. even more magnetic now because her nipples have clearly swelled and hardened under all that red. and what that was like.” I encourage. “A break? Why is that significant?” “I… needed to m…m…” “Spit it out. We might even be in the same place. and real . but I want you to tell me all about your sex dream. and why you’ve been so curious about mine from the beginning. you said something the other morning that really made me curious. right there in the lab. looking to see if her toasted rose petal insides erupt with color or light or anything else when she comes. Talk about the tiger missing an opportunity.” “To m…masturbate!” Mary has gone so red in the face that I wonder if she’s going to have a coronary or something.” I can see in the wide eyes that I’ve touched a button with that one. pretending to misunderstand her distress.

then adds in a thin pained voice: “I thought there must be something wrong with me. and that strange light catching fire in your head… I wanted to know! Was it the same thing? Was I seeing an experience like mine right there on my screens? And you knew you were dreaming. fuck her so hard and for so long that we’ll both be raw and sore. And the one thing I can promise myself right here. profound changes already unleashed that can only culminate in my dick plunging deep inside of her molten pussy. Until me. you let your big boob dream girl lead you the way she wanted and I… I wanted to scream…” I’m finally getting it. was a fishing buddy of my dad’s. is that I’m going to fuck this woman relentlessly. right now.sex… but it was… it was…” She’s trying like hell to keep from saying it. I think about what Millie said. and I grin. Mary’s had sex. or what? “Do you have a boyfriend. and he also has charming little rental cabins sprinkled around his . Are the gods a perverted game-playing lot. Mary?” “No. Bill Perkins. you mean. “Real sex?” I press. just like any great-looking babe would. a place called The Worm Turns. just thinking about sharing that sensation with Mary. We both have new realities awaiting us. For instance. where you know the ins and outs of things. when you had sex in your dream the other night. and I could see your hormone levels skyrocketing. The proprietor. so raw and sore that we barely know who we are any more.” She nods quickly. and could take the sex anywhere you wanted! But you didn’t. “It was… so disappointing!” she exhales. I’m acquainted with a bait and tackle shop on the other side of town. well. like I’m… caught somehow…” “Because the real thing is never as intense as in the dreams. Wow. The things you learn about someone when they’re unable to keep from telling you. and every underhanded thing I can do to her.” I say for her. And she’s currently unattached — has probably been unattached — and the only reason for it is that no one has ever rocked her membranes in the waking world. Until today. Chapter Eight — Cabin With a Heated Poole It’s nice being on familiar turf. “D…desperately!” Well. her eyes moist. There is something wrong with me! I… I prefer dream sex over the real thing.” she whispers in a near-sob. “Yesss!” she hisses. “And then. “You want to be able to lucid dream and create scenarios where you get molten hot dream-sex exactly the way you want it. I…” “A girlfriend?” “No!” “Because it’s never as good as it can be in your dreams?” “Y…yes. about how a snake’s skin feels raw after molting.

Her pain is real. and only occasionally meeting my eyes after confessing that she’s something of a sexual misfit. that I’d probably be stirred with desire even if she were bawling her eyes out. I get the benefit of thinking of myself as one of the good guys. because I’m going to turn her into my own boink box banshee. once she came to consciousness while continuing to sleep. and what better way to get it than becoming involved with the leading edge of lucid dream research.property. and they’re very private. I wouldn’t be able to resist plunging my dick inside of Mary whether it’s good for her or not. to there. like removing that piece from the opposite sex’s dating board is a crime against every woman who can’t quite find what she wants. it’s one of those cases where something is actually happening. It’s obviously tragic that such a great-looking woman would have any sexual hang-ups at all — it reminds me of the times I’ve heard female friends lament that some movie hunk is gay. I mean. Whether she has any sense of that or not. but I really do believe I possess the magic elixir to cure her sexual frustrations. I’d like to be fairly gentle with her — until I’m ready to not be gentle at . There were almost always one or two available even during good times. She’s definitely shaken. The comedic element involves the gods delivering such a beautiful but fucked-up woman into my grubby little hands. and wiping the wet streaks from her cheeks does nothing to erase the air of being haunted by a sexual past that sounds one part Freud. Beautiful as Mary is. Mary doesn’t know it yet. that her inner horndog is not so different than mine. She wants heightened sex that comes from a nebulous source. or fingering herself out of a deep sleep. she’s a bit of a mess across the table. and the unconscious drives that must have spawned them. I think it’s more likely. The only question is how to get from here. the planes and features so exquisite. yet it has the smell of a cosmic set-up because it’s too perfect to be true. Perhaps she even intuits that the butterfly pattern born in the lab is the very tonic she’s needed to turn her consciously prim and proper vagina into a salivating demon of a dream-affected cunt. but we’re going to require that kind of isolation. all conveniently located right between my ears and legs. by becoming Anne’s understudy. but it’s easy to conclude that they played a role in her signing on with the LDSP in the first place. I feel genuine tenderness for Mary. two parts Rod Serling. For myself. I can see elements of both comedy and tragedy in Mary’s predicament. learning and possibly mastering a technique for taking control of unconscious events to melt her body in the night. It’s easy to understand why my very first dream with Gina Marie must have sent Mary’s pussy into a fit of dripping wet envy. Her face is so naturally lovely. I can’t pretend to understand where Mary’s recurring dreams came from. or what they did to her evolving sexuality and why. the diner. I can just imagine the look on her face when my hormones and glands and lightbulb brain went all sex-crazed on her instruments. and once we get started I don’t want anyone pounding on the door to know what I’m doing to the poor woman. her eyes teary with arms drawn in defensively. She’s probably been itching for a dream like that for years. or lovers. she sought a deeper understanding of her old recurring dreams. a secluded room where I can pound her pussy until it’s even redder than her outfit. culminating in an outright pajama-staining orgasm in my sleep. No wonder she followed me to learn more. and I’ve been given more of that than she knew to want. and found it so strange that I didn’t take firm control of Gina Marie’s actions once the sex commenced. and it makes me that much happier to assume that we form a sort of yin and yang of dream perversion. and she recognized the possibility for using lucid dreams as a sexual tool from the very beginning. though. fantasizing about every little thing she would do to her dream lover. Perhaps. a passionate lover only when sound asleep. ready to play the role of the sexual savior by acting on the many wrong and manipulative ideas I have fluttering in my mind. however. She wants dream sex.

I can tell because one of her clutching hands leaves the table.all — and I hope I can manipulate her with some degree of finesse. I could end her struggle with just a few well-chosen words… But it’s sexy watching her wriggle. and I… I must trust you… to say what I’ve said. now that I see it. and it’s time. A heartbeat afterwards it’s like strings hitting discordant notes behind her baby blues. “Oh my God!” she vents through lips gone full and slack. She’s already mine to shape and mold. Her eyes are closed tight and her head has tilted to one side. a rush of chemical passion colliding with her emotional distress about only feeling passionate in a series of old dreams. grabbing her right breast to roll it around under her blouse. and that I think she’s about the hottest and sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” I try to pierce through her fog of lust. she slides out of the booth until we’re erect on the floor. “You are so beautiful. “Yes. not after Mary breathes out a loud “Hahhh!” sound. “Just answer one question. I’d never do anything to jeopardize your job. But you’re so beautiful. But…” “I know. “I know… you’re attracted to me. I could stare at a big silver print of this beatific sex-stunned expression for weeks — and I’m not even playing with her when I say: “I can’t even believe how fucking gorgeous you are. and both hands go to the edge of the table as if to keep her body from leaping up or falling over. I have no need to whisper. her jaw dropping as though somebody just released a spring. helpless in the face of the storms of energy crackling inside. every bit of you. her sleeping features exhibiting the same glow of heated amazement. this is exactly what I’ve wished to capture with my camera for the past two years. her hands squeezing the table like she intends to crush it. I know. because I want to feel the words igniting fresh fires inside her body. sort of like the . It’s easy to imagine a teen-aged version of this face with lust flooding in through her dreams. A slight sound escapes from her opened mouth. Squeezing her hand tighter. When I pull. but I do. I start where it seems right to start. I suddenly regret the absence of my camera — I mean. She looks totally lost and oddly defiant all at once. okay? Do you have feelings for me?” I know what her answer is going to be. and I think she’s already helpless anyway. standing beside Mary’s seat. it warms my heart to hear the words. She shakes her head.” That one pretty much does it. I do believe I could crook my finger inside of this woman’s pussy and make her do any fucking thing I wanted. I’ve wanted you to be attracted. “Mary. an almost religious expression animating the angelic mouth. and that’s before I’ve even pulled the pins on the verbal grenades held in reserve. then gulps. I reach around and hold onto her back. pressing our groins tight to each other as the heat comes to life inside of her. because she has no choice in the matter. Even so. taking hold of the hand that isn’t frantically teasing her tit. like she’s both savoring and trying to resist the effects of every compliment I toss at her. even if it’s been a long time since she’s had to contend with ferocious lust beating on her door and threatening to blow the house down. “I…” she tries to speak. Her eyelids flutter. pressed front to front with her hardened nipples grazing my ribs. that you can’t blame me for…” There isn’t even any point in finishing the sentence.” into her ear. by confessing that I can’t help having strong feelings for her. “But… we…” But nothing. dammit!” released like verbal steam from her full lips. so that I won’t have a lot of explaining to do after her pussy has become a gusher. “I’m… I don’t know… what’s happening…” Yes she does. I rise from the table.

closes hard onto my dick. we’ve already driven more than a mile with my rigid cock poking out of my jeans.” She sucks on my earlobe as I grab the small bag. “We shouldn’t do this?” she states as a question. arms folded on the counter with an amused gleam in her eyes. It isn’t a compliment about her looks. “Give me the keys to your car. which has been gliding along my abdomen and sometimes grazing my erection. I have to take her weight as she arches backwards. the sound of human panting and gasping as loud and steady as cicadas on a steamy August night. having trusting friends that want the best for you.” I’m happy to inform her when we’re almost there.” as we pass. watching every bit of the extraordinary seduction unfolding under her roof. I’m not going to put a gun to Mary’s head to make her do anything at all. and makes the call.distressed mewing of a kitten. not until I’m ready to completely set her off.” It’s good. especially when the car comes with a special gear reserved for revving Mary Poole’s moody pussy. no grinning or winking or eye rolling. giving me the first tactile taste of the sodden furnace radiating between her legs. I don’t say anything — no more needs to be said. Besides. but why would that stop anything? People make mistakes all their lives — hell. hot breath whispering. *** “I think I’m in love with you. holding her up with an arm around her waist. the whole world has been cluster-fucked by a series of mistakes. says. Whatever the consequences. but playing fair is also not an option. with the flesh of a beautiful babe nearly as hot as the bright sun. and her left hand. “Number three will be ready for whatever you two have in mind. and she must be on tip-toe because my hard dick presses into her panties in a different way.” I whisper into Mary’s ear. then freezes. and I want to fuck her like no one else I know. and I silently mouth the words: “Bill Perkins — cabin. She just nods and takes a phone out of her apron pocket. and she pulls it away. I slow the car. And it’s good to sit behind a steering wheel for a change. the middle of her body pressing more insistently into my hard-on. her trembling hand undoing my zipper. perhaps even a plea. and most of them were made intentionally. and so the words don’t have a particular heat-escalating effect. because I feel something really special with this woman. She mews again — I’m wondering if she’s going to turn into a catwoman by the end of this — and then her lips are on my neck. “I told Bill it was an emergency. aching convex rubbing against overheated concave. “But…” The hand begins to stroke my cock. making slow progress towards the door. “My purse. fingers molding tightly to my shape. Nonetheless I see Mary shiver. She’s probably right that it will stir up some sort of trouble if we do this. Her entire body shudders in my arms and I smell her excitement like it’s a cloud of super-heated vapor presaging a more violent eruption. “I… think I love… you…” she whispers. Millie. and that’s close to being a signed and notarized agreement. I’m not an outright . winding her tight before driving her insane with desire. It’s good out in the clear morning air. my hands slipping under the miniscule skirt to squeeze her butt cheeks hard.” She’s surprisingly calm. pulling onto the shoulder. her hands reaching around my back with fingernails scratching through my shirt. I see Millie staring at us. and I'm almost in a swoon as I more or less force Mary into a position where she can walk. voice almost inaudible. it’s worth it to me. We both gasp from the contact. Mary is outright panting now.

I find the interior delightfully cool. I know exactly where cabin number three is. If she really means it.” she whispers after maybe a minute.rapist — if she chooses otherwise. I think of slipping her panties aside and delving inside. right where it belongs. then less. urging me to keep going in broken words and breathy wiggling. If she can even manage to say it. I take my longest look thus far at her beautifully proportioned body. with only a screen door in place to keep the insects out. I don’t think that Mary is even capable of absorbing the charming atmosphere of our love nest. rhythmically drawing my hand more tightly against the hot panties. and Mary looks down at my straining dick. a woman exuding a totally unique mixture of dream-infected anticipation and . but I ease back onto the pavement. Mary Poole is my raven-haired fallen angel. her hand closing around my wrist. When I semi-carry Mary inside. going back and forth like a yes/no pussy tease. I’ll back off. She’s still holding me by the wrist. but it feels right anyway. and how I wanted to get them naked as quickly as possible. placing my right hand on her thigh. She just had her chance to escape. and I think we can both agree now that reason is no reason to back off from where we’re ultimately going. The cabin is unlocked. sort of. The feelings she can’t help feeling. “I’m… just so afraid. the windows open with a gentle breeze moving half-drawn lace curtains. slapping at the dashboard with her other hand. where tearing into them is half the fun. I’m not sure if she means the car or my fingers. doing what I’m going to do to her in a room with a romantic ambiance.” I hit her flickering resolve with a hammer. watching her breasts rise and fall with every deep breath. The flooring is blonde pine with a log ceiling above and a lovely blue and orange patterned quilt folded upon the wide four-poster bed. “You’re really gorgeous when you’re conflicted. She pretty much falls onto the bed once I let go of her. or she’s worried that her body will freeze up during sex. I feel sodden panties against my fingers and the car smells like fresh female musk. She said that sex was always “disappointing”. That’s more like it. and the stockings and heels make them look like gift-wrapped presents. like the sight of her all dressed up for sex is much better than naked. “It’s completely up to you. It’s different this time. and the fact that we’re going where she can’t go without jeopardizing her position on the dream team. Mary. but there’s plenty of time for that. saying no and meaning it. her lust dissipating once we’re actually fucking. I think about every woman I’ve been with. a pleasant potpourri scent filling the air. In fact. bringing my fingers under her tiny skirt. Or she’s scared to ride in a car where the driver’s dick is exposed. The sight of her legs in the barely-there skirt and wavy red nylons is almost too much to bear — this woman has some of the shapeliest legs I’ve ever seen. And the unfamiliar eruptions of passion. it’s almost criminal how unconcerned I am as I turn onto a gravel road that snakes under the shady embrace of tall pines. probably. I don’t ask what she’s afraid of. and who knows what half-baked misadventures she’s had in bed over the years. keeping my hand right where it is. slipping my fingers inside one of the tantalizing stockings. lying on her back with one knee drawn up. I could turn around and…” “N…nuh!” she grunt-objects. and I have a pretty good idea of what I’m going to do to this damaged but utterly bone-jumping hottie once we’re inside those walls. I’m not the least bit worried about how we’re going to hit it off. Positioned with a view right between her legs.

breathless anxiety. Millie spoke of a revolution, the tearing away of former ways of being, and it seems to me that a revolution must be taking place inside of Mary’s pussy, or possibly her entire body, like runaway surges of liquid lust are chasing away a longstanding curse every time I tell her how gorgeous she is. “Take your skirt and panties off,” I insist, my cock pulsing, eager to stir her soon-to-be cauldron of a pussy. “We… we can’t!” some remaining slice of sanity objects, even as her hands grasp the elastic of her panties to wriggle them away. I think I’m about done with listening to what we can’t do. Mary has no real fight left in her — all I have to do is look how both knees have drawn up, her useless panties being shimmied over her heels and kicked away. Even so, how exquisite will it be to change her attitude from too horny to do otherwise, to just fucking out of control? Her eyes are closed, mouth opened expectantly. It’s obvious that she isn’t going to be all sex-kitten the way Sharon was, striking seductive poses and undressing me to give my hard dick a Poole-job. She’s too stunned, still shy and uneasy in bed, her body revved yet the rest of her fretful, maybe barely believing that she’s here. Kneeling beside her, I help ease the skirt away, running a hand over the bare flesh at the tops of her thighs, my eyes delighting in the shaping of her firm legs, and the way I made her dress them up. She’s trembling, even before I lightly graze her soft trimmed pubic hairs, moving higher to trace her hipbones and the flat of her stomach. My hand slips under her top, feeling her ribs and then the filled cups of her bra. She’s shaking more violently now, her breath catching in dramatic fashion even before I’m wicked enough to say: “You are so beautiful, Mary. I love everything about you, every curve, every gorgeous inch.” The breaths become deep abdomen-quaking pants, her legs spreading wider. She jerks, and mews like I’ve heard before, only so much louder. The middle of her body writhes energetically, back and forth like her pussy insists on being a moving target. I see that Mary has a truly lovely pussy, rather petite like she is and visibly swollen with need. I bring my hand out from her blouse, lick my right middle finger, bringing it between her shifting thighs to oh-so lightly dab between sopping wet folds. She makes an involuntary sizzling sound, like nature has equipped her mouth with sound-effects that express what her pussy feels. It’s a beautiful thing to hear, but it doesn’t last long as the tiniest wiggling of my finger transforms the sizzle into deep animal groans that reverberate off the ceiling. I feel like all the normal rules of lovemaking leaped out of the cabin’s windows the moment we entered, because I’m touching what might be the most hyper-sensitive vagina in the world, if I so choose. There is no such thing as foreplay here, only experimentation with how far I can drive Mary into a zone unknown to both of us. Ideally I want her in a condition where she’s begging to receive the most genuine mercy-fuck ever given, but without succumbing to some sort of harmful lust-madness or outright unconsciousness before I’ve hardly begun. Very quickly, perhaps unnoticed, I slip free of my clothes, leaning in, my cheek rubbing against smooth nylon. I open the lips of her pussy with my thumbs, inching my head closer. She’s squirming, squirming just right, and I’m wondering whether I should even pull out my more powerful tools when I hear her whisper: “Why… hasn’t it felt like this before? I’m so… Oh my God, I didn’t know… I just didn’t know…” It almost sounds like a religious conversion, and she doesn’t even have a clue yet, just how different it could be. I could be kind or cruel as I do what I do next, lightly swiping at her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, then telling her again that her body is perfect, that she’s breathtakingly beautiful, that her pussy is like a

budding flower, her face like that of an angel, her eyes two lapis jewels. I just keep laying it on, licking and nibbling at her swollen clit, pausing to pile flattery upon flattery, going right at the most sensitive part of her physical body yet avoiding the verbal zones of Absolute Detonation — the stocking-clad legs and her breasts — from last night’s invisible seduction. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but it seems like not complimenting her legs and breasts is the equivalent of licking all around but not quite touching her clitoris, driving her to distraction through omission, encircling her interior erogenous zones but never quite laying my voice upon them, mercilessly teasing her spirit even as my tongue goes right at her clit. Mary erupts with sounds that I don’t even know how to characterize, weird throaty somethings pouring out into the room even more rapid-fire than the compliments went in. Her thighs quake around my head, almost battering my temples and ears as warm liquid meets my busy tongue. She’s coming, only this is different somehow, like coming isn’t an explosion and body reaction, but an unfolding flood of heat upon heat, a cumulative wave that keeps surging, keeps growing. “D…D…David!” I think I hear her stutter-croak somewhere up above. Hands touch my head, fingers tapping spasmodically like the unfolding orgasms make her need to mark an experimental jazz beat. I’m so hard, and so ready, yet also so fascinated by her strange cries, by this lovely petite pussy taking Mary for a sustained joy-ride, somehow flowing with more force than any pussy I’ve ever encountered. I push myself up, needing to see her face, needing to know how it all looks on her. She appears… enraptured, only somehow worse. The hands that had been riffing on my head are now waving blindly in the air like they’ve learned some new sign language for conveying deliverance, her mouth twisted open, eyes wide but apparently unseeing. I’ve never seen any woman look like this, like she’s a red-legged fuckbug being attacked by sex mites from the inside. That’s what it looks like — like Mary is being attacked by the tremors erupting within her body, my dream commands eating her pussy's insides out. And we haven’t even moved to the next level. The previous night’s magical dream-commands surface in my mind and it’s not even a question of whether to go there or not, it’s only eeny meeny miney moe. My aching dick makes the choice for me; after that I don’t think, I don’t weigh or try to predict. I just say, “Mary, I need to see your breasts,” the first step towards dropping a much heavier bomb. Her arms are still animated, eyes fixed on the ceiling like they might beam heat rays that burn pornographic graffiti into the timbers above. Seeing that I’m going to get little help, I grasp the bottom of her blouse and peel it up above her boobs, scrunching the material at her collarbones, then dig under her back and unclasp her bra. I forget to breathe when I see them. Mary’s tits are creamy smooth and medium-large, a bit fuller and rounder than Sharon’s. They’re great breasts in every way, but it’s the nipples that have me reeling. They’re surprisingly long and fat, and all around them, punctuating the darker flesh of her areoles, are raised bumps of more excited skin. I happen to know that these tiny mounds of super-sensitive flesh are called Glands of Montgomery, because they’ve always been a monster turn-on for me. I don’t know how many women have them, or why they get to my dick the way they do, but I just fucking love them. Sophie had them, which made not hooking up with her all the more tragic. But here with Mary, the little lust-nodes are even more numerous and more pronounced, causing my cock to respond like its nerve-endings all have microscopic dicks of their own that have suddenly grown rock hard. “Oh man,” I breathe, ducking under Mary’s prayerful arms to touch these tactile wonders, closing my eyes and reading the brail-like bumps with hot greedy fingertips. My fingers push at the hard nipples, squeeze them, then seize the whole of her breasts, both of them, pressing them together, kneading them like the

perfect soft pleasure pillows they are. Mary adds electric hisses to her repertoire of sound effects, the excitable bumps around her nipples rising even more, like they’re tiny bubbles filled with heated gas, needing some place to go. I bring my head in close, inhaling the rosy scent of her skin, lightly flicking at both nipples with my tongue. I love these breasts, I just fucking love them. How could I not tell Mary how inspiring her tits are? Taking a deep breath, feeling like my aching cock has become a magic wand capable of moving the heavens and the earth, I put my mouth right up to her ear, and whisper seductively: “You have the sexiest, sweetest, loveliest tits I have ever seen.” I don’t know what I expected — what I get is like a hiccup of time, an instant where Mary goes completely still, not even breathing, as though every system in her mind and body needs a moment to become recalibrated to a new reality. The momentary stillness is shattered by something that might be a scream, though it also sounds like the word “need” stretched in length and volume into nearly unrecognizable form. Mary’s formerly unfocused hands are on my dick in a flash, and with astounding speed she’s suddenly on top of me, turning my body between squatting legs to aim her pussy down onto my erection. It’s one of my favorite positions, but I’ve never had a woman bouncing her body onto my dick like this, bouncing and screaming, my dick devoured by a fuck-monster frothing between red stockings, wetness dotting my chest from I’m not even sure where. I think she’s drooling, and her pussy might be so wet that it’s actually splashing. I start to meet Mary’s down-thrusts with my hips, but her rhythm is so frenetic that it’s not really a rhythm, or it's a rhythm that I'll never comprehend. She pushes me down with locked forearms, just speed-bouncing with as much force as her body can muster, and her strong legs can muster plenty, her head thrashing, boobs rocking, her pussy incredibly tight yet ultra-lubed, my aching cock swelling, receiving body-blows like never before, being as much beaten by her interior as fucked. She comes. It's a neon sign of an orgasm that my dick can't help but feel, like a hot ocean is bubbling deep within Mary’s pussy, bathing me when she ignites. She was screaming before but it’s aural chaos now, weird sounds torn from her chest or maybe even deeper, like the orgasms are an entity with its own voice. I listen, and watch, fascinated and so fucking turned on as she bounces oddly a couple of times, one of her heels coming down on my belly, making me blow out air. I close my eyes for maybe a second, and when they’re open again Mary is turned completely around, her ass and back to my face, riding my cock from a new direction, giving me an entirely different view of her cock-devouring frenzy. It’s the back of her calves now, flexing and unflexing in the stockings to raise her pussy up and down, her furious screams directed at the cabin’s far wall. She feels even tighter from this direction, like I’m going in deeper and rubbing more of her interior as she goes at me. I feel an incredible surge flooding towards my dick, zigzags of color flashing in my eyes, like my optical nerves are part of the coming explosion, lending their energy to it. Pressure congregates in my balls, unfolding, multiplying, building too much, Jesus fucking Christ it’s still building, making me gasp, making my abdomen quiver, my eyeballs dance… “Fuuuuck!” I think I cry out, the flood armed with kickback, knocking my insides as I spurt into Mary’s relentless cunt. I can barely see, like my eyes are trying to come too, tearing up from the force of it all. I hear Mary’s alien cries, feel her weight pounding me just as furiously as before, and I begin to fear that I’m going to be fucked to death, fucked so hard and for so long that my dick is ground down to mush. Only I’m still so fucking hard, still so fucking excited… I feel her pussy clenching in a new way, clenching like she’s awakened beasts that live deep inside the

walls of her tunnel, beasts helping her pussy to eat my cock, adding their energy to hers, drawing another orgasm out of my depths, another flood crashing against the limits of what I can bear, knocking them down, fucking pulverizing my limitations, pulverizing me from the inside, a giant bubble of an orgasm pushing against every organ, heating me, making me cry out for mercy or with deliverance or I don’t know what, I just have to cry, to scream, my dick bursting into her, meeting her flood with mine, crashing together, screaming and crashing, Mary not stopping, her body possessed with the fucking, oh God the fucking, the white hot never-ending fucking… *** I’m resting in my quarters, the lights turned low, when I hear the tones of a visitor at my door. “Enter,” I say, sitting up, swinging my boots onto the floor. I hear the swish of the door opening and closing. I can’t see my visitor yet, but I hear them breathing. “Yes?” I signal, my cock growing hard for some reason. The first I see of her is a foot, followed by a trim ankle connected to an exceptionally shapely calf, raised seductively off the floor. The rest of her voluptuous body snakes into view, movements sinuous, flesh and hair gloriously green. “Oh fuck,” I exhale as she fixes her eyes onto my erection, pushing lewdly at my uniform. For some reason I can’t remember what the name of her species is, or the name of her planet, but she’s one of those irresistible green women, famed for their sexual prowess. She glides forward, body twisting alluringly. Her legs and feet are bare, only a skimpy slip of a violet dress covering the middle of her body. Bracelets dangle at her wrists, the white of her wide eyes and the pink of her licking tongue contrasting warmly against the green of her flesh. “You… can’t be here,” it’s my duty to say as the captain of the ship, though of course I want her here. But if Starfleet knew… Before I can say another word she’s on me, full breasts pressing me back onto the bed, lips teasing at my neck, her hot breath right in my ear. “We need this!” she shoves sex into my ear, one hand on my chest, the other beginning to stroke my erection. “This is our moment, our chance to get everything we’ve wanted. You’ll soon be needed on the bridge… Don’t stop me; there isn’t much time!” She has my cock in both hands now, her neck tilting so she can take a bit of her tiny dress in her teeth, pulling it away. I help her to open the top of her dress, freeing her breasts. They wobble right in front of my face, grandly round, dark green nipples straining on red alert, their pebbled hardness aimed for my lips. I take one in my mouth, sucking, lightly biting. My sultry visitor groans, climbing fully on top of me, deftly lowering my uniform trousers, my dick popping out to tower up at her. She rubs my cock with her hands, manipulating the sensitive flesh with alien deftness, somehow knowing which spots deliver the most pleasure, shooting jolts of bliss throughout my body. She raises her haunches, the center of her thighs precisely aligned to my dick, and I watch breathlessly as a glowing line of greenish lubricant drips down from her extraterrestrial cunt, coating my dick with a substance that burns deliciously, burns inside, burns like sex acid injected into the cells of my dick, exciting me from the inside out, turning my dick into an incomparably sensitive instrument, her exquisite handjob going all the way through me, awakening dormant hormones, vibrating formerly sleepy sperms, my balls swelling, an unnatural amount of force building…

I try to cry out, find that I’m so horny that I can’t even speak. I think I’m going to blow a load that will shoot through the ceiling, breaching the next deck, perhaps destabilizing the ship. Just before I can’t take any more she releases her handhold on my cock, grinning with the satisfaction of knowing exactly how to play me, how to take me wherever she wants me to go, making me feel whatever she wants me to feel through the weapon of her supreme sexual skills. My cock feels nearly broken, broken good like I want to beg her to break it even more, break it in two or even into a thousand pieces, each one aching to have its own orgasm. She recognizes my need — she created it — and responds by reaching out, a phaser in her hand. I can’t move, can’t hope to defend myself. She just grins, adjusting the setting, jamming the firearm under the hem of her dress. I hear it pulse, watch her eyes go dreamy as the shapes of her thighs are silhouetted in brilliant tones of red-orange through the thin fabric. Crying out in sounds that match the phaser’s pulsation, sounds torn from a body caught in a heated delirium, she throws the weapon to the floor, raising the bottom of her dress, pulling it over her head until she’s finally naked, gloriously green but for her vaginal lips, her pussy radiating intensely like a lavafed crevice, the dangerous outer slit of a deeper super-heated core. “Never forget… the power of desire,” she whispers, grazing the tip of my towering dick with her redorange lava flow pussy. I feel my flesh vaporize, my cock-head burning away. I scream, yet realize that I’m screaming with the intensity of the pleasure, not with pain. “It’s elemental, transformative, relentless!” she declares. “No object can withstand its force, no force can withstand its power to transform. The snake eats its tail — needs to eat its tail, a perfect circle of cause and effect, effect and cause, transformation leading to transformation, a doorway melting open, the bridge prepared…” In a sudden thrust she slams her haunches down, her molten pussy completely swallowing my cock. I feel my dick burn away completely, instantly evaporated, yet somehow I’m even harder than before, my dick gone but my hard-on even harder. With her head thrown back, green hair flying, she raises herself, and out pops my cock, bubbling and steaming. Only… it’s not the same cock at all. The old one has been burned away, my snake's skin more than shed — it’s been fuck-dissolved. And with the old skin gone, a newer cock stands in its place, raw yet pulsing insanely, making my mind reel, making my balls ache, making me need to fuck and fuck and fuck. She slaps her glowing pussy down around my new tool, feeling so amazingly tight, so deliciously wet, an oozing pussy of incomparable heat swallowing my newborn dick, taut and toned green thighs and calves raising her weight to slide partway up, then back down fast, my fat transformed dick devoured, redevoured, in deeper than deep, out partway, in and out, the molten friction making me gasp, making me cry out her name. “M…Mary!” I gasp, recognizing the pussy before I even recognize that it’s all a dream, all except the sex. Mary is still above me as the green dream-woman was, her pussy every bit as tantalizing, not glowing but just as tight and wet and hungry, a loaded weapon of a pussy, impossibly energized, caught in it’s mission. I don’t know if she ever stopped when I passed out — if she’s even capable of stopping. She’s facing me again, and I fuck back, matching her rhythm with my hips, pounding up, delighting in the lost expression that has her face contorted, her eyes bright but unseeing, all of her awareness gone within. She still looks like Mary, the dark hair somehow mostly in order, the eyes a deep blue. But something in her face makes

reaching down and around to get my fingers on her swollen wet clit. But that’s then — now I want to fuck this pussy from every angle. her head thrashing sideways. using "Mary" as it seeks its goal and fucks it. going back until her back is flat on the bed and I’m ramming her horizontally. her body adjusting to mine. every thrust pushing her forward. and I know I’m going to drop my other bomb today. her face buried in the mattress. never giving her pussy a moment's rest from the pounding. I shove her legs wide so that we’re both standing. coming with a mighty spurt that draws groans that harmonize with her wailing. coming and getting harder. squeezing them. excited blood boiling to the surface. Mary never ceasing in her need. my cock never ceasing to get hard. I sense her goal. I feel like my eardrums will burst from her incessant wailing but it’s lovely. positions shifting yet the heart of our fucking always unfolding. feeling their weight jiggle from the pounding below. her palms finding purchase. feeling her ass smacking against my abdomen. It was tempting to just . the sound of a woman receiving enough fucking to almost make up for all those wasted years. my dick pulsing anew. I’m in control now and I step up my speed. Fucks me. at every speed. risking enough friction that our privates might fuse together. I flip her over and she raises up at the middle. inching her up until her hands touch the wall. she with back parallel to the mattress and arms stretched out. see her shuddering body working to take the position. Using my hands to help. appearing to be embarrassed by the richness of its pleasure. a never-ending cycle fueled by never-ending need… Chapter Nine — The Torrent Begins It’s nearly five in the afternoon when I’m on my bike again. grasping feebly until her fingers spread. and I keep pounding.her look even less human than the green woman. She claws at it at first. like my spent hard-on has a hard-on. pressing forward. I just keep pounding. I doubt that she even has any awareness that her gorgeous legs are sheathed in teasing shades of red. my cock embedded even deeper than before. like fucking eats fucking to create more energy to fuck. She’s in something like a primitive prayer position. her delicate features slipping towards sexual savagery. doing her and re-doing her. taking her beautiful tits in my hands. making her need to be tasted. thrusting and dabbing. my cock pounding into her from behind. making me hard and keeping me hard. tasting her. the two of us coming together yet somehow not being done. her entire body flush with heat. my cock exploding into her again. coming and staying hard. riding towards the city. like the intensity of her pussy’s need has stripped her of her human identity. all of her flesh gone red like the dream version went green. like Mary’s gushing cunt is a fountain of comely youth. beginning to wonder if I could fuck Mary Poole all day and all night without my wood losing its wood. She fucking wails like an animal that’s swallowed a siren. the sound of a lost soul. but I know. kneeling with arms outstretched in front. lust devouring itself yet never exhausted. ass raised. With quaking legs and steadying hands she starts to rise and I follow. I raise myself at the waist. She wails. full tits rocking. not getting softer but stiffer. me with knees bent. too. orgasms multiplying. like she’s become an alldevouring pussy first and all the rest is just a beautiful costume for her pussy to wear. pounding and flicking. one great master-fuck stretching out beyond tight yet never snapping. pounding into her with all I’ve got. I pump harder. pussy clenching and flowing. one hand hard on a thigh to hold her in place. her pussy frothing around me.

All of this led me to an inevitable conclusion. stretching her graceful limbs and placing a pillow under her head. sure — even super-lust. or achieving orgasm… Well. With my dick aching like it had been fucked for hours. all focused on me. crowding out her personality or even destroying it with too much need. playing with with some of the finest legs I’ve ever seen. I crawled from under her and gently repositioned her limp body. holding on to her warm body. Mary. Lust. that even if I have the ability to dream-seduce every hot babe on the planet. because I . right off the bat. just watching Mary sleep. lights out. I contemplated all the ways I might play her in the future — I never triggered my red stocking pussy-eating commands during our fuckfest. totally sex-energized. perhaps coming to some post-fuckathon sense of what we want to be with each other. She verified with opened thighs and wailing lungs that I can carry all sorts of hot shit from the dream world to the real one. rather than sticking around to answer the questions a dream-infected lover needs answered once she comes to her senses? I don’t have the answers. trying new things. Watching her sleep. sharing a spoon. ready to face whatever price I might have to pay for experiencing this exquisite afternoon. I feel qualified to declare those problems a thing of the past. turning her onto her back. and it was tempting to stick around and go there. her petite pussy all swollen and definitely catching up to the stockings in terms of redness. With messages of urgency echoing like that. She also said I’d soon be needed on the bridge. it appeared that she just orgasmed herself into oblivion. the natural flavors that make her so appealing to me. except I kept hearing the voice of the green Star Trek woman calling from the back of my head. essentially chickening out and settling for the rambling man procrastination routine. waves of pleasure wracking her body until one of them hauled off and knocked her out. that I may have truly fallen in love with Mary. we'll get it on again. I want to experience the many sides of her. sharing a chance to get to know each other. aching in new ways… It really did hit me. and a whole host of tomorrows. which adds a level of complexity/duplicity to my life that might make my head explode if I think about it too much. but if Mary had issues about feeling passion. Every now and then I wished I had my camera. not today. And I would have gone there. Can real love include stealth-compelling the loved one into loving you back? Can love include slipping out the cabin door. culminating in an overwhelming desire to fuck ourselves silly. From where I lay. But more like icing on our cake. hanging out to continue puppet-fucking Mary Poole began to feel like I luxury I can’t afford. I’d want to begin by returning right here. telling me how little time there is. Mary’s body eventually gave out from the relentless fucking. I just know that I felt compelled to move on. Her thrilling nipples remained hard and extended even in sleep. or on us and all we might do together. I’m no expert in such matters. So many avenues are dead ends. but that would have required a conscious and coherent partner. Though it might have been a good time to lucid dream for any number of reasons. burning the sight of Mary Poole’s relaxed and satisfied body in my brain. and just lay there in an awkward scrunched-up position. but mostly I just wanted to look. or becoming sexually stimulated. She toppled from me while blowing out an extended groan of pleasure. not a hollowed out Stepford abbreviation occupying her beautiful body. I think Mary will be okay mental state-wise. planting myself between these familiar legs. and perhaps tomorrow. which wouldn’t happen if I became too overbearing.stay with Mary. which was obviously more than a throwaway trekkie reference. because I want her. shifting straight-up sex into nylon leg loving. neither of which were available at the time. I felt wide awake. plus some convictions on my part. and sat for a good long while in a wooden chair. I realized that I want Mary… and that’s where it would get tricky.

it’s a different kind of tension that I’m holding in my gut. And crap — maybe my goose is already cooked. Using the stiffness of her nipples as an indicator. A giant cloud the color of a charred battleship looms behind Baltimore. Of course I couldn’t completely let go — I told her how beautiful she is several times before leaving. because I’ve left some potentially disastrous dream interventions unattended. thinking I have no more than ten seconds to get inside before the torrent begins. *** It’s prematurely dark when I turn onto my block. I didn’t want to think about this kind of stuff back at the cabin. and tasked Millie with ringing the cabin sometime around six. wetting my hair. if she feels up to it. I showered for more than half an hour at the cabin. Jagged lightning flashes and it’s only a couple of seconds before thunder cracks. Ahead it looks like the atmosphere has turned to hard slate. something of her spirit traveling with me. and that I’m responsible? I could wipe away her memories of the past few days… Well. little “uh!” cries troubling her sleep. Several more strike before I push the abused door open. I pull up short. desperate to make up for a lost day’s fucking and sucking. back with Mary where the sun is still shining. Something doesn’t look right — probably all the splinters of wood where the lock used to be. I hate contending with stop and go traffic when I’m on my bike. pausing on each step to listen for signs of life. It’s a pretty shaky thing to hope for — even if everything worked out. because I didn’t want to pollute the most perfect day of my entire life. Still. Sharon with her greedy cock-sucking mouth is the one I’m sure of. But that bliss is behind me now.spoke to her as she slept. either. Unfastening my helmet. like a piece of her is inside my motorcycle helmet. . confused streetlights feebly challenging the angry sky. and if she’s lingerie obsessed. I peer up the stairs. and the traffic is extremely heavy when I hit the beltway. and I could watch her nipples rise with every word. Millie didn’t bother to ask how things went — she didn’t need to. crossing the threshold into dry shelter. filled with this awful certainty that the new fucktastic life I’ve been granted is already over. and maybe it would create even worse problems and maybe it wouldn't. but I think it will take several days or more for Mary’s scent to completely dissipate from my pores. telling her several times that she needed to calm down. maybe — who knows? Maybe that’s a possibility and maybe it isn’t. my nerves already soaked with dread. I stare dumbfounded at the evidence of a break-in as a raindrop the size of pigeon poop smacks the top of my head. feeling queasy in my stomach. and the prospect of getting soaked in a thunderstorm is no fun. I imagine NSA agents combing through the files on my computer. I run to my downstairs door. The wind hurls trash and grit against my helmet’s visor. too. giving her a chance to become functional again. My guess — my hope — is that she’ll find herself in a condition not unlike the one that gnawed at her at Millie’s. I could try my damndest to undo all of that. Or maybe it’s only Sharon up there. I got the impression that my words penetrated. given her history. or my camera equipment stolen to be sold for next to nothing on the street. I can smell her even as I ride. half out of her mind. I climb. but it’s Anne that worries me the most. and can walk. thick female storms must be gathering on the horizon. and something tells me that with a lingerieinfected Anne Haggerty running loose. I could go to her in the lucid state. keys in hand. I had to walk the mile and a half back to the diner and my bike. which seemed perfect. wouldn’t she have a sense of what had happened to her. nearly blowing me over as I pull in front of my apartment building. I don’t know where she lives — I keep thinking that if I knew where she was. which should give Mary just enough time to clean herself up and make it to work. and I can't even see that my bike is riding in circles inside the pot. Standing at the base of the steps with the sky opening behind me. which worked out rather well for both of us.

which look great on her legs but can’t be practical in a foot race. about forty-six more than I’ve ever had at one time. but for some reason it’s the blinking red light of the answering machine that arrests my attention. “I have things I need to show you!” . because she’s wearing almost nothing. I smell Anne-pussy. slipping part of the frame between her lips. the jamb shattered. A fractured deluge pounds upon the roof. then get into the lucid state to switch her hormones off. coming from the direction of the bedroom. We stare at each other as lightning flickers into the space. I almost feel like cursing at my cock because it’s getting hard — is hard. too. I fear for my cameras and the portfolio of large photographs I have stored in the bedroom. heart pounding. bringing them down near her mouth. in a situation where fucking this woman would probably be the biggest mistake I could ever make. and how long do I think I could stay ahead of something like that? It would be better to fuck Anne. only with three dance-like leaps. feeling the muscles of her back. tentacles of apprehension squeezing my chest. Forty-nine phone messages. I weigh my options. presumably by the crowbar lying in the hallway. and steely determination focused upon the bulge in my jeans. her lips planted on mine before I even see them coming. short of just jumping out a window. I start to back out of the apartment. she not speaking. me not having a clue what to say. wet pussy lips almost bulging through the triangular opening between her thighs. locking it in a skin-stretching death grip. taking in her height and how our bodies fit together. but the place is eerily quiet. Did she wreck my apartment in an explosion of fury when I never showed up to watch her parade around? And does she understand how unnatural this situation is? Does some part of her brain comprehend that she’s been filled with alien needs. crunching the frame of a photo of my parents under my feet. and taste fermented need inside her mouth. a shimmering translucent bodysuit clinging to her lithe curves. and thoroughly trashed. streaky gray light casting liquid shadows through the windows that slide transparently down the walls. I see a full day’s worth of compounded lust burning in her eyes. I take a step forward and she reciprocates.The door to my apartment is wide open. I'll erase some of her memories. And if the gods are with me. I could try to run — Anne has extremely tall heels on. I discharge a sigh of relief when Anne steps into the living room. When I step inside I half expect to be pounced upon by masked assailants. pulling my cock where she wants it to go. taking in the clutter of a home with many of its possessions torn limb from limb. Fucking forty-nine. My breath catches as one thicker shadow creeps horizontally. “Come here. lying on the floor amid scattered books and magazines. sucking on it with seductive exaggeration.” she speaks in a voice so low and collected that it’s worse than if she shrieked my name like a crazy woman. Anne slowly removes her glasses. relentless lust requiring her to dress sexy to get me hard so we can fuck? I take a cautious step back. Her tongue pushes in and I take her in my arms. instinct telling me that facing the downpour is preferable to remaining in what’s left of my world. her hands unzipping my jeans. only it’s “relief” in quotation marks. preventing me from moving or even breathing. maybe fuck the two of us unconscious. erection pressing against overheated loins. But where would I escape to? I’ve mind-shagged one of the leaders of a team connected to national security. David. My eyes sweep from right to left. “Come… to the bedroom!” she exhales into my mouth. I freeze. Thunder booms and it shakes my resolve while rattling the windows. roughly pulling my cock out. and the same number as Millie’s hexagram about molting.

I pull my fingers out and shift my body to jam my cock in her cunt. which means my desires flew through the ether from the very beginning. The tits squashed around my head shift and a swollen nipple pushes past my lips. my cock instantly embedded in a tighter pussy. and I’m sure she’d look wonderful in anything. twist. Anne’s poisoned pussy. pulled onto Gina Marie’s tits. not wasting time to fully lower my jeans. grasping her firm ass to shove her tighter against me. taking her from behind. She’s one hell of a talker. her abdomen quaking against mine. wide-open mouth spouting unconnected half words and repeated “Gunh!” grunts. watching her eyes bulge. never ceasing to jam my cock as deeply as I can. I have her coming in less than thirty seconds and I just keep going. and what I need is to be asleep as soon as possible so I can try to erase this boner-fide megafuck-up before I find myself in an undisclosed prison cell. hot hands on my ass and back. my freedom intact. I take her completely by surprise by roughly jamming three fingers into her sopping pussy. take it just like I’m taking the only chance I can see to keep my life whole. Dr. her “fuck me!” demands breaking apart. I’ve always wanted to squeeze these tits. tearing at the flimsy fabric of the bodystocking to grab her tits in my hands. pumping and pumping. Mind reeling. feeling her thighs quiver. feeling her ass against my front. no time to protest or do anything but take it. working my hips as vigorously as I can. reaming Dr. the wet friction of the charged pussy exchanged for a sucking mouth. my mouth press-connected to a boob that must be the size of my head. her vice-like grip on my cock loosening as my embedded fingers pry her pussy walls apart. fracturing into spasmodic body-jerks and half-understood wails. The flesh in my face presses down so hard that I can barely breathe. which means Gina Marie. holding on as we fall to the floor together. “Oh God fuck me squeeze them fuck me squeeze them fuck me squeeze them!” She keeps screaming it and so I squeeze — hell. taking her weight as her long legs give out. She cries out and leans back. so many voices. only pulling out so I can flip her over. groaning and shooting liquid hip-jerking fire into her. take it as her hijacked cunt knows she needs it. something even hotter happening to my cock. As quickly as possible. thrusting the full length in with artless force. feeling my hands being pulled up. Gina Marie! It can’t be anybody else because I can’t see anything but the boob. and it feels like every squeeze of my hand is rocking Gina Marie’s world. I wiggle. can barely hear. A gibberish talker. making me cry out into an ocean of soft tit. I lower my hands on her back. Sophie. her stomach flat on the floor. She’s coming. making my balls swell.There’s no telling how many outfits she wants to strut and sway in. It’s crazy when I do it — I’m not a small guy. blinding me with their vastness… Before I can understand it I’m pulled away from Anne by strong female hands. even more elegant and shapely than I would have guessed. thumping down onto the rubble of my life with her ass taking most of the impact. I can’t fuck her either because somebody else is twisting their cunt around my cock. drawing a belch of hissy ecstasy from Anne’s lungs. though. which means Nicole Dampley and… fuck. an even wetter pussy. hearing her “gunhs” run together like a kid imitating a machine gun. spreading her legs wider to give me better access. going at me frantically. like a symphony of wailing lust. Anne has one hell of a body. I suck instinctively at the firm nipple in my mouth. hearing Anne blurb sounds that escalate into wet piercing screams. Our desires are not quite gelling. “Squeeze them! Squeeze them and fuck me!” she bellows. boob unnaturally hot against my face. but I feel too small because there’s no way I can squeeze the whole of a Gina Marie-sized boob with just one hand. a shop-vac of a greedy throat yanking me towards a violent . gigantic boobs suddenly mashing into my face. She wants — needs — a drawn-out lingerie show culminating in supernova sex. giving her no time to react. squeezing them to her ribcage as I jackhammer her pussy. and more female trouble than I had any clue I’d have to deal with.

see the taut torso of Nicole Dampley with her head shaking wildly. licking at Nicole’s ravenous hole however and wherever I can manage. I choke. and she screams. grabbing my dick and begging me to suck her nipples. wants to force me into her gushing cunt so I can fuck her from the inside with my body like I already have with my mind. Nicole’s pussy grinds so hard against me that it’s like she wants to swallow my head in there. her big breasts rimming my chin. maybe somebody else shouting “Mine!” over and over. which I turn into piercing screams just by the wiggling of my tongue. I wonder whether I’ve finished modeling the life-sized clay figure standing before me. fucked and re-fucked with a possessive territorial catfight mixed in. Or maybe my rod is being devoured by the same black tunnel that’s pulling at my head. which means inside of her. contradictory dream-commands clashing. athletic legs shoving fragrant slippery membranes against my lips. so much tighter — maybe not a pussy at all — reaming itself on my hard pole. it’s hard to tell the difference when objects are so out of focus. my body shuddering. Anne’s hard voice declaring.explosion. My cock is swallowed by something — maybe a mouth. but there are screams everywhere. somebody choking. pulling another orgasm out of me. a black cave of a world with no sights and no sounds. caked hands grasping tools for carving and smoothing. making me groan into Nicole. somebody wailing. the three-pussied fuck-fury in my ruined apartment drowning out the sounds of the storm. leaves. reproduced in exquisite — perhaps even perfect — detail. pulsing blackly. eyes glowing eerily as lightning flashes. a milky glob of cum trickling out one corner of her mouth. Everything is accurate down to the subtle veins in her feet. dimming to black. I hear an ominous thud. a different pussy jumps on. and wincingly catch a glimpse of Anne wrenching Gina Marie’s blonde hair. Nicole’s eyes are wide with horror that I’m trying to pull away. or the way her . black walls closing all around. Raising my eyes. my boss being boob-slapped into submission. a moving fleshy field of agitated blinking motion swimming in a roiling sea of tits and arms and legs. nude. A new pussy wraps around my cock. feral grunts and something smacking repeatedly against something else. sucking oxygen in as a knee or some other solid joint smashes hard against my right temple. My sculpture is Mary Poole. a flood oozing all around my mouth. a third blow falling on my ear. the tunnel sucking me in so deep inside. Somehow I’ve become a master sculptor. only more black. a high heel striking me hard in the throat. begging me to fuck every part of her body. her mouth twisted with fury. I try to pull my head away from Nicole’s attacking cunt. or the faint creases at the back of her knees. and she jumps full on top of me. Gina Marie’s massive mound lifts off my face — she’s being pulled away by Anne. sending her into fresh screams of flowing deliverance. I feel something sharp cut into my right hand. two giant boobs smacking together with Anne’s head between them. A gaping red pussy instantly fills the void left by Gina Marie’s breast. I need him alone! I need fucking privacy!” I’m being fought over. My meat is grabbed with delicious force by clenching walls. the front of my body smeared with grayish brown. I stick my tongue out. *** I look down and see that I’m naked. I see stars. “No. crabwalking backwards. but until this minute I never understood just how talented I am. maybe an ass. Gina Marie and Anne topple onto us. Again I can’t see much of what’s happening. Even more afraid than turned-on. limbs flailing. I burst breath into Gina Marie’s boob when I come. I look up. filling me with dull sound. I hear a distinct “Eat me oh God eat me!” overwhelming all other sounds.

waist tight with legs that are simply spectacular. the whole of her body a true work of art. raising their texture. The thighs I barely touch at all — they’re already so ideal that I can’t see any way to improve them. Fucking wow and God fucking damn! It’s still Mary. perhaps unaware of how her pussy can be made to flicker with lust. like I'm being fucked . pressing in and stroking with my fingers to further tighten her abdomen. Wow. making Mary’s tits larger and rounder but not artificially so. but Mary looking like she’s been on a sexercise regimen. working quickly and instinctively. extremely pleased with her body. Without realizing what my intentions are at first. and this clay version is certainly beautiful enough to stir heat. I didn’t take her tits anywhere near the Gina Marie zone in size. but the way they stand out with those high-caliber nipples. shoulders and back until every bit of her is in perfect alignment with everything else. I don’t remember carving it. but I know this pussy intimately — it’s small and tight. Moving to the next breast I duplicate the enhancement. sweet and innocent on the outside. I’ve given her eyelashes and pores. not warm membrane. In just a couple of minutes I’ve created what might be my version of the Ultimate Nipple. and use a detailed carving tool at her front to make her clitoris more pronounced. I stand back to assess the changes and my dick feels like it’s ready to explode. and walk in a slow clockwise circle around the figure. smoothing everything just right. yet can’t deny. a clitoris screaming out both its need and its power to deliver. and squatting down I find a perfectly formed vagina between her legs. I can barely believe I have the skill to have carved its perfect likeness. When I stand back this time. almost demure in appearance. for God’s sake.navel turns in. The pressure in my cock inspires me to go further. elongating it to almost obscene proportions. an idealized graceful surge. but it has no such capacity itself. going too big at first. The upper thighs are especially tasty when viewed from behind. I think I could shoot a huge load from just staring at them long enough. yet within its depths it has to be one of the most savage and greedy sexual organs on the planet. an object exhibiting such extreme stimulation that it creates an echoing effect in my cock. but that isn’t the same as alive. examining the texture of her breasts. honing her body while growing what might be the hottest hooters ever. Standing with her weight on one leg. accentuating the way they taper to her Achilles tendons and feet. downright painfully erect. converging before flaring into that fine round ass. More than satisfied. to stroke and hope to hear an excited gasp — yet I know I’d only feel wet clay. the effect is just too much. I’ve created my version of an ideal woman. seeing that the breasts themselves need more mass to accommodate these newly pronounced tips. shaping and reshaping. assessing both my workmanship and Mary’s overall beauty. blooming into a firestorm of cock-craving that she could never have imagined. I stand. fattening her nipple. capturing a completely natural swell. tweaking the musculature of her arms. Below I re-shape her calves only the tiniest bit. giving them a tad more fullness. I lay a bit of fresh wet clay upon her left nipple. shaving some away. happy to see that I managed to recreate her cock-hardening Glands of Montgomery so perfectly. Life is heat. She looks real. capturing its deceptive nature with trompe l’oeil accuracy. I slide down and shave a thin layer of clay from her waist. making me feel harder than hard. I add a substantial amount of clay “tissue”. this clay Mary Poole appears confident. every inch of her tailored to my preferences. Mary’s prim pussy is a cock-devouring cum-craver in disguise. and the sight is like a blow to my cock. She’s so well-formed. her tits firm and proud. like it’s more excited than excited. pressing in and shaping with my tools to heighten the effect of her alluring glands. rock hard. Everything looks so real that I’m tempted to insert a finger inside. I move to the front and lean in. yet I know how deceiving appearances can be. I heighten the roundness of her rear just a smidgeon.

widening them. But “just came” has somehow become meaningless for me. pressure rising and suddenly peaking. somehow able to release load upon load. grabbing hold of my dick to suck me off. even more stunned by the miracle taking place before me. The craziest thing is that this brown-gray version of Mary Poole is not even greatly changed from the original. grasping firmly to pump at its base. gathering so much force that she looks like a modern fertility goddess. squeezing. “There are forces… Powerful. creating a shining trail that begins inside of Mary’s pussy. ropes of cum filling her cupped hand. and I lower her jaw. To accentuate the effect. come enough to coat the whole of clay Mary with a wet sheen. an immense . and there attached to a wall. into her eyes… I’m betting that she’s going to step forward. my stuff splattering onto the sculpture's left hand and forearm. Oh fuck. feeling like I might pass out if I don’t come. peering behind me as though she’s seen something terrible. I hear some kind of skittering sound. and catch a bit of movement to my left. I’m reeling.mercilessly somehow. desire coursing through her veins… “There isn’t… time. especially after I dip my hand into a bucket of water and bring it between her thighs. I turn around and find the floor of my apartment strewn with debris and shards of broken glass. which is crazy because I just came. my spunk highlighting her form. my cock aching like never before. up her jaw and cheeks. seeing a small hand stroking my tool. but oh how a series of subtle shifts can accumulate. like all the recent dream lust and ensuing sex has turned my excited cock into a magic wand.” she whispers hoarsely. part of clay Mary come to life. to need to fuck her. The effect is almost overwhelming — to see her is to want to fuck her. and tons of it. only the body is not about reproduction — it’s about pleasure. in the hallway. My clay fuckmate smears cum all over her body. I groan out loud. Sensing danger I freeze. oh fuck. With her swollen clit and literally outstanding nipples. like I could challenge infinity to a fucking contest and win. I work on her eyes. needing to see what I haven’t seen before. creating room for her mouth to open in an expectant “O”.” she answers. I fall to my knees. her mouth moving awkwardly. she appears to be about two breaths from coming herself. trying to peer into the obscure corners of the space. pumping me like crazy… I open my eyes and cry out in shock. Disbelief mixes with heat and I come again. fondling my hard dick. inescapable… We're pawns in a game… of re-creation…” I see her eyes widen. trickling halfway down her left thigh. infusing her insides with my cum. I make out the shape of a giant spider’s web. this is too real. circling the head of my cock. and everything it touches comes to life. oozing out fresh thread from it’s abdomen. rubbing the last of it onto her lips. not understanding. some parts of Mary still cold and lifeless. like speaking is an unfamiliar action. another hand joining in. This is hourglass cum-bunny Mary Poole caught in the moment of having an existential meltdown from the intensity of the fires blazing inside her body. I close my eyes. half-exhausted. panting. Ahead of me. like it's drowning in sex. barely breathing. “We aren’t alone. I pull at my cock and begin to jerk off. “Why not?” I ask in return. my cock rising and spurting. my body shuddering. the remnants of my windows everywhere after the passage of a violent storm. life shooting into her. Her vibrant hands rub at her mouth. I feel like I could come a hundred times. It’s just right. she looks so real and so fucking hot. my hand stroking. lust filling her body. everything glistening. but only because she’s running out of cum.

confident in the effectiveness of its sting.black widow spider. but things don’t look very promising. no real power at all other than the mind-power of my light body when I dream. a timeless arachnid death dance. and sorry — spiders and scorpions just don’t do it for my dick. Powerful eruptions of dismay clutch at my spine. But I need to feel lust for that to work. a crafty sideways dance… It’s a scorpion. many of them bent. black shell shining. Maybe agelessness. like she’s been in this apartment forever. just never noticed. and I see a cop in a yellow raincoat standing out in the landing. I think it might have been literally fucked. The place is still a wreck. also larger than normal. Again I hear something moving along the floor. Fuck fuck fuck! The bed is covered with a heap of camisoles and stockings. the Leica. Fuck. to check out my cameras and portfolio. instinct telling me that without my help. I’m not there. but I just have to float to my bedroom. Dangerous as well. to warn the spider or get rid of the scorpion somehow. infinitely patient. and neither are the women. and there’s a disturbing amount of blood on the floor. I’m in a metaphorical version of my apartment. I’m not sure why I should care… I just do. My light body has no substance to check the mechanisms. no scorpion. radiating an aura of… I’m not sure what. as in… Shit. The rain has eased to a steady . not good at all. I have no weapons. Still lying on the floor with Anne and Gina Marie and Nicole fighting for my cock? I rise out of my body. I catch movement again. and I have no idea which is the stronger — the spider with its bite. colorful teddies and bustiers. I know it’s silly when I do it. I realize with horror that it’s actually stalking the spider. or that of the women fighting over me? Blue and red light sweeps in through the windows. is fucked. Out there. black leather suits of various types. hordes of cops and their vehicles crowding the street. anyway. and the blue and red lights flashing outside remind me that I have bigger issues to deal with than wrecked cameras and cuntcreamed art. I’m stuck in a buggy dream where sexual desire is not even an option… Christ. I’m witnessing something extraordinary here. I blink myself down the stairs and immediately find the real me. I have no idea where I am. It’s hard to make out the spider in the shadows. barbed tail raised. photos strewn all over the floor on the backside of the bed. the lens. perhaps a creature that will become the spider’s food. I feel the need to interfere. But I do know that the scorpion is incredibly dangerous. This is not good. and take that crowbar to my life in her frustration? Or did Gina Marie and Nicole break in earlier. My blood. others stained or smeared with what I take to be girl-cum. and will myself into the main room of my apartment. the web always present. and there is no spider. but not malevolent. and the apartment has been in the world since beyond forever. I don’t know how long this web has been in my space — it’s lovingly woven. and crucial in some way. Did Anne fuck my equipment and my photographs while waiting for me. My main camera. the spider is going to die. my real body is… Actually. I’m dreaming again. My portfolio is in similar shape. but she’s there. doing it all over my stuff and even with my stuff? I may never know the exact nature of the female tornado that ran through my apartment. not unlike the real thing in that the floor is covered with all this broken crap. while the spider is… different. perhaps where I blacked out. my body being loaded into an EMS van on a gurney. going girl-crazy in every room. a predator preying on a fellow predator. or the scorpion with its sting. the criss-crossed design vastly more intricate than would be needed for merely catching prey. only I don’t know what to do.

I didn’t know I was actually doing it at the time. for bringing my sexual offenses to the attention of the authorities. her giant boobs nearly bursting through the white gown they’ve fitted over her. my landlord. She’s struggling against the restraints. I rise up and track the movements of Eduardo. If I wake up? The idea flashes that I might be dead. my cock in her cunt — I think — and just look at us.” I confess to the woman tending to Gina Marie. to relate with others… I think I’d go nuts. He’s telling a man I take to be the driver of the van to follow his car to the research facility. I’m finally getting a good look at her. gorgeous as get-all even with a cut lip and one eye swollen half-shut. Without the restraints I have no doubt that Gina Marie would be banging my damaged body in the other van. because I know in my gut that he’s the element on the scene whom I really should fear. needs his hands squeezing her tits. I should thank him for possibly saving my life. donned in an orange rain slicker. insisting that I be taken to Union Memorial Hospital. able to look down and see my body withering. a conscious spirit witnessing its own vegetative state? It’s a gut-wrenching thought — there’s an incredible sense of freedom in here. I feel pretty much like dream-shit. speaking to an agitated EMS guy. needing to know. needs Nicole’s nipples. I really do. The “crazed babes”. all to no avail… Christ. but I did it. and I’ve been fucked to a pulp. I don’t know what happened to me to make me bleed like that. There are two additional ambulances — I float inside of one and find Gina Marie strapped to a gurney. “Hello. fully aware that no one can hear my silly attempt at black humor from in . to Gina Marie and the rest of them. I’m surprised that my face looks so peaceful.drizzle. Floating over to myself. because that’s in his contract and that’s where the crazed babes are being taken. and the EMS guy is putting up a fight. Maybe it’s a horrible thing to think under the circumstances. I could be in a coma. It takes some effort to move past those fears. but she’s every bit the super-busty sex goddess I remember. making me squeeze her tits even if she had to hold my limp hands to animate them into it. literally frothing at her injured mouth. being questioned under a large umbrella. my heart instantly pounding in response. even if I do have a tube stuck up my nose and a bandage a foot wide wrapped around my hip/dick area. never able to touch anyone. too. and I even got what I wanted. Sort of. but being like this for a long time. Like that wasn’t going to happen anyway. my name is David and I’m a light body rapist. and that includes what I’ve done to her mind. soaked in blood. shouting how she needs David’s cock inside of her. aren’t I? And that’s before even checking to see how badly I’m hurt. essentially a ghost. A few sentences are enough to gather that he made the 911 call that summoned all this heat. I’m definitely not dead. to speak and be heard. There isn’t even any point of asking “what have I done?” because I remember exactly what I did. trying to calm her down. I should probably curse him. Johnson. but something’s gonna hurt something awful when I wake up. with Dr. I finally got my mitts on Gina Marie’s ginormous boobs. though… As soon as the thought is there. and I see Mr. where laws like gravity don’t touch me. Anne’s pussy running a fever. A woman — a psychiatrist? — holds tight to one of Gina Marie’s hands below me. and I see the face of the consequences right now — Eduardo. trying to reason with her. I can’t help wondering what would happen to me if I fell into a coma. Would I zip around as I am for weeks or months. Multiple seeds of disaster were sewn before I even knew I could sew them. I can see the spikes on a small monitor mounted upon the wall of the van… Okay. She’s insane. I am totally fucked.

letting go of this useless bout of what-if-ism. I’ll do the right thing. but I force myself to. And is it a total cop-out to feel like the confession is only half-justified. I follow the passage of my damaged body as it moves along Baltimore’s rain-washed streets. really — not that I used the dreams for sex. and a sizeable knot on my forehead where somebody gave me a good whack. At the facility I’m transferred to a bed on a floor of the building that I’ve never even floated through. silently promising that I will come back to release them from the grip of my blundering interventions. and it looks like my dick got the message. That’s what gets me. I pull myself up and out of the van. assuring from the first moment that my gift came with the guarantee of its own destruction. stumbling from pussy to pussy with no strategic thinking. And shit… Sophie. trying my best to free Gina Marie and Nicole. or fun… But my body is in trouble down there. or have I dreamed myself to the end of the road. and I hover attentively as a small team of doctors and nurses tends to my various wounds. I probably could have gotten inside all these women. my light body no smarter than a sex-blinded bug. smacking head-on into a giant yellow dead-end sign? Chapter Ten — The Bridge They drive me to the lab. I’ve heard stories about people rising above their bodies in the operating room. and I can’t see leaving it unattended in the hands of strangers — or worse. Until then. It’s not as extreme as when I dreamed about having my dick vaporized. the main one being: Is there any chance of ever being un-screwed.here. people I know. maybe even Anne. And once I know the extent of the damage. I guess I could go somewhere sunny for a half hour or so. fucking me raw. trying to do something constructive. and know not to trust. and I’m still very attached to that body down there. in fact. peering from my bird’s eye perspective among the low clouds. drizzle passing right through me. but that was a fantasy exaggeration. I get none of that — the only lights I can enter are the overhead fluorescents. not the hospital. a bright welcoming light of heavenly grace holding out the promise of a better world to come. Millie talked about me being a snake ready to shed its skin. assuming I can find her. But it’s the state of my penis that makes me dream-wince. the van’s original driver got left behind. as in raw. replaced by a couple of men-in-black heavies. fuck it all. not even knowing that I needed to think strategically. enough to know that its problems will be my problems the moment I wake up. but couldn’t understand that it was supposed to be a metaphor. no real harm — if I’d only known the rules of the road. when the gods handed me a ticket to lucid sex paradise. And Mary? I don’t even want to think about it. I know where Union Memorial is. when this storm has passed. no repercussions. I’m not surprised — no anonymous EMS grunt was going to outmacho or out-maneuver Eduardo. a whole new set of questions awaits. And then. and just how deeply life-screwed I am. no trail of mind-fucking for the team to uncover. Yes. so I’m willing to leave Gina Marie and the others for now. I need to find out how badly I’m hurt. and Anne. like the fault isn’t entirely mine? I never asked to have my brain reconfigured — I got snookered into it. with some awareness that I’d need to dodge all the speed-traps lying in wait. while this is… red. I’m not a wimp — I can sit through the grossest of slasher films while . with no evidence of foul play. Mary too. I’d try it on Gina Marie now if I felt the least bit horny. but that I did it blindly at first. those women must have continued to go at me. But later. and Sharon. by people more devious than I’ll ever be. I have a host of superficial cuts and bruises. the puny human cosmically ass-fucked in the end. After I blacked out. experiencing near-death journeys where the freed spirit is bathed in a feeling of blissful detachment. they played the same twisted games they always play. which I don’t.

Some of the details are different… There really isn’t any point in dwelling on the aberrations. figuring that it’s time to assess the extent of the non-physical damage I’ve inflicted upon myself. physically. and I don’t think they're on duty to keep hot women from wanting to do me. The team obviously knows what I’ve been up to. especially when I turned one of their own into a lingerie fuck-fanatic. and a tight body with a great ass. the exact form of the artificial obsessions. a team dispatched to bring her to the facility for questioning. Suffice it to say that Anne as we knew her is… absent. One of her friends checked in on her. I hover unseen right above the center of the table.” It’s jarring. and they can’t be taking the situation lightly. Phillips and Eduardo quite easily. In its place is… well… something with an entirely different agenda. too — she was supposed to show up for work at the aquarium today. sitting around the big table inside the conference room. her mind is on the same kind of autopilot as the others. Unless they keep me pumped with painkillers. because of the repercussions it might have to my tenderized organ down there. no problemo. Dr. swollen pleasure receptors and clear evidence of almost incessant genital manipulation stemming from hyper-sensitivity that appears to be addictive and self-perpetuating. chronicling how Gina Marie and Nicole both walked away from their jobs in what has been diagnosed as “extreme cognitive confusion and unnatural single-mindedness of purpose. assorted sex toys strewn about the room with my name scrawled all over her walls. written in “organic fluids”. Satisfied that I’m not going to die. Her personality. to give a penis physical therapy. although it will need to stay bandaged. her mind. briefing the same cast of stiff-assed characters — minus Anne — on what Eduardo terms “the regrettable situation”. and might even require physical therapy. though? I’m thinking of dream lust out of habit. Beyond that. listening in as an unknown man reads the names and personal information of my victims. as well as the movements that brought Gina Marie and Nicole to my door. while Nicole worked at a Starbucks and played on a semi-professional volleyball team. Gina Marie is — was — a real estate agent in Denver. as well as corresponding hormonal and glandular imbalances. that’s bound to be dreadful when I wake up. according to what I hear below me. That sounds… not so good. has receded. I find Dr. Eduardo shakes his head. but up here looking at the fuck-carnage down there. because it’s hard to feel desire when my actual body is so battered — I’m afraid to even think of getting an erection in here. “Anne has been upgraded to stable.chomping on popcorn. combined with behavioral and physical markers indicating an ongoing state of near-maniacal sexual fixation. It doesn’t get any better as they read a timeline. I get a picture of Sharon going mega-cunt-manic when I never showed up for breakfast. And I’m going to wake up. My dick will eventually be as good as new. hearing my dream interventions described in language that might be at home on the warning label of a really bad-assed medicine bottle. ” . They know that I mind-fucked Sharon. only to find her passed out on her bedroom floor. Phillips also informs the others that Mary Poole called in sick this evening. and never called in sick. I don’t have a clue what that means. Haggerty?” a balding military type asks. Everything has changed anyway — there are two armed guards outside the door. I float up to the familiar floors of the facility. but one of the nurses has lovely brown eyes above her facemask. I’d probably faint if I weren’t already unconscious. “What about Dr. too. I can see where it might set the healing back a bit if she’s my therapist – especially if I decide to dream-stroke her mind. Who am I kidding.

” Eduardo cuts to the chase. and premeditated sexual assault. his light body listening to every word. Dr. Phillips talks a great deal about PGO waves. to anyone. willfully. even if it's a valued colleague. He could be in this room as we speak. I generally get the part about strengthening the bridge (interesting choice of words) between the upper and lower brain functions. “We’ll have to process the information we’ve collected thus far. gathering information from our own lips to use against us. “We knew David Sand had dreams containing elements of sexual longing and wish fulfillment. Phillips asserts. and I will remind you that there is no way to measure his presence. we’ll never know what she thought before she became… what she is. Dr. or was beginning to suspect… Frankly. and speculate that some sort of “trans-systemic field of influence” came into being as I dreamed. and can be coerced into engaging with carefully selected . Phillips snaps. weighing our resolve. Haggerty’s recovery must be our top priority. and create a new team to work from her notes. We have no concrete proof as yet that he does this deliberately. “Simply put. attempting to fuse the dream-spawning areas of the higher mind and instinctive functioning into one smoothly running unit during REM sleep. he might succeed in restoring her to what she was before. brought out of the trance through therapy.” Eduardo argues. when he is unconscious. whatever they are.” “Dr.” “Anne is already lost.” Eduardo grunts.” “I cannot accept that!” Dr. a deliberate way. which goes way over my head after the first couple of sentences. but it's prudent to assume that he does. Ultimate Stealth just as we wished. worming his way into the human mind. loading fresh tobacco into his pipe. “Gentlemen… David Sand is unconscious right now. Past that. We have to…” “We have to what?” another military man interrupts. added to artificial cancellation/stimulation of serotonergic inhibition and neuromodulation. asking for an explanation of where the dream science went wrong. “There’s still so much we don’t know… Anne’s fixations could wear off over time. He is undetectable. there is hope of continuing the program without her expertise. or she could be re-educated. at this very minute. Phillips gives a synopsis of Anne’s research. and the manipulation of their cholenergic hyperexcitability. Dr.“How did Sand do these things?” the skin-head military guy asks. It may be that Anne suspected. “We didn’t know these prurient tendencies could spill out from the lucid dream 'reality' to affect others. “Do we have a working theory?” They do. or simply had sexually charged dreams about them.” Dr. It’s a key point in the debate that emerges. causing damage that may be irreversible. and now we have proof that he can do so much more than observe. or… or even by David. unless her condition is vastly improved from what I’ve observed. If given the task of removing his influence from Anne’s mind. because the answer is the difference between the unintended consequences of an experiment gone wrong. We designed him for that very capability. in plain English. until one bespectacled suit holds up his hand and waves the jargon down. Do you understand what that means? He is a threat — to anything. They aren’t sure whether I deliberately went after my victims. Phillips explains how the team was caught off guard by the degree of cooperation between my nervous and glandular systems. “Am I the only one here who can see that we’ve been handed an opportunity that goes beyond our wildest dreams? If Sand has these capabilities and can use them in a targeted way.” “We have a far greater problem here than the fate of any one person. with the effects spilling out beyond my control. I don’t know if the others are able to follow all this brainspeak or not. but it’s less complete than I would have thought.

fuck! Even if they don’t give a shit about me.” Dr. trusted and dedicated… What if Sand had put it into her head to destroy her notes.” A general silence falls upon the room. and not without the clues I received from my own brain. or his job.” Eduardo asserts. Phillips’ eyes… I’m not certain whether it’s Anne he’s thinking about. Whatever we decide in here. distracting or even incapacitating the command structure of America’s enemies. Not Anne. “This is a possible rapist we’re speaking about. Neil. He no longer has any rights. the things we know. they’re going to allow their paranoia to kill the only chance they have at getting Anne back to normal? I want to yell out to them. Phillips speaks over him. outing spies. I see profound loss torturing Dr.targets… We could be talking the instant destabilization of foreign governments from the top down. “We changed his brain. or to bring the program to the attention of the media? Any one among us. by religious certainty. to talk some sense into them. that I can’t do anything to their minds because they don’t get me hot? But they don’t know that — I wouldn’t have known either. right now. I mean. Tonight. plotting to bring the program down. toppling not only governments but entire belief systems…” “But everything you’re describing could also be aimed at us!” an unknown man weighs in. Don’t they get it. all the classified intel that could be revealed…” “I spoke with the vice-president about this half an hour ago. “We are to take whatever measures are necessary to keep these black ops pitch black. “Sleep cannot be prevented. or the program. “David received a severe blow to the head. Phillips pipes. the human body will eventually require the mind to shut down. and could pose significant dangers to…” “To what — his health?” Eduardo scoffs. poses an unacceptable risk.” Silence. I’ve heard more than enough.” the decorated general from the other day pipes up. I have it on the VP’s authority that it is the secrecy of the program that is our highest priority. gentlemen — no possibility of leaks. between us. not even the survival of the program for now. could already be in Sand’s grip.” Dr. And he is a national security threat of the highest order. a man who might have thought nothing about robbing women of their personalities. “Would we even know when our minds have become infected? Anne sat in this very room. “Sand cannot be allowed to dream…” Eduardo begins. They’re going to treat me like a piece of rancid meat. we’ll change it back. Whether this is the end of the LDSP or merely a significant bump in its eventual achievement. We’d finally have a tool that could undermine that mode of thinking. a menace to everything we know.” “I must object. and I look from face to face. not without time to figure it out. And David Sand. this program must remain out of sight. He doesn’t exist — you know that. They think I’m an all- . even if it means never giving me a chance to undo what I did to Anne and the others. with these capabilities. No leaks. forcing confessions… We all know that the most dangerous enemy is one possessed by religious zeal. of their sense of purpose. to expose this and other secrets… My God. and Anne’s notes on reversing the alignment within the brain are untested. “Even with the most sophisticated sleepdeprivation techniques. And any time David reaches the REM state…” “We’ll go into him. Now. one of us. I am certain that they just decided my fate — or the vice-president did. a soldier who can fight ways of thinking.

or an operate-on-the-brain switch. not unless the fuckers have hot wives and my dick recovers… It will never have the chance to recover.” Spock answers flatly behind me. I try to open my eyes. accompanied by a sudden sensation of vertigo. Heart pounding. I will never recover.affecting Frankenstein monster. be a good soldier for the red. I’m there in a second. I float inside of myself. The invisible grip suddenly releases. maybe to help or maybe not. wondering if I'm going to do their dirty work for them by giving my bruised body a heart attack. but I can't. not David Sand but David Shiva. into complying. or maybe it's the opposite. I shout at myself to wake up. can't I feel some passion about that? Only I look totally out of it — fuck. they have tubes running into me. or whatever the hell else they might want from me. my body rigged with a kill switch. wondering how I could have fallen asleep in the captain’s chair. because I’ll be dead. Dammit I have to wake up. I have to wake up! Wake up David. really wake up. heal all of them. eyes jarred open like my eyelids were held fast by tractor beams. “We are under attack. or held together with invisible clamps. to be behind my eyelids so I might pry them apart. white and blue. “Raise shields. "Either that or he knows what they…" A phone rings and everyone goes silent. Maybe I would be if I could. trying to make the light body me become the rest of me. to will me. I’ll heal Anne. "Having a nightmare. I have to wake up. my mouth not working right. but it's like they're glued shut. everything set for whatever decision is being reached two floors above. the ultimate destroyer of all things clandestine. maybe to keep me asleep for my benefit. “Too late. I can read the expression in his eyes. and reason with them. struggling. listens gravely… Shit shit shit! I don't need to hear a verdict. getting nowhere. we have been boarded. One of the doctors picks up.” I command. Wake uuuuup… WAKE UP! *** I jerk awake on the bridge of the Enterprise. try to will it. “Sijuation?” I ask. trying to fit my formless parameters precisely to my body. to merge myself to myself. indicating the bleeps on some monitoring device. "Just look at these readings!" the shapely brown-eyed nurse says. . I take my dream hands to my eyelids to force them apart. make amends.” “They’re in engineering!” I hear Scottie’s voice on the intercom. back in the room where I really am. a terrorist-turner or a satellite-hopper of the highest order. or a disappeared shell of myself with cabbage for brains." somebody assesses. Passion. desire — I want to fucking live. They need to know what I can do and what I can’t do. figuring that never hurts.

He's reading the time on an analog dial. keep it straight. Me too. I motion them to the turbo-lift. we’re all going to die. thirty-two seconds. and I’m not really Kirk. emphasizing her point while holding me up. “David — you can’t let them destroy the bridge!” she urges. No. droning that in fifty-seven seconds. not even digital. but that’s after the before.” I punch into my chair’s arm. I always wondered: If this is the future and everybody is so fucking smart. the original one. stopping my aimless momentum. gripping hard. Which means the attack and the auto-destruct sequence aren’t actually happening. somebody is sprawling out of their seat when the cameras shake… Wait. “One minute. and I look up into the deep blue eyes of Mary Poole. let’s all give him a hand. wake up. that this isn’t really the Enterprise or even a TV soundstage. this isn’t real. to wake up. “The hull has been breached. David? I thought I was Jim. fourteen seconds. assessing Mary’s figure in the short red mini-dress and black boots.” “Captain.” Spock reports. mind fuzzy. The vessel shakes violently. “Turbo-lift is down. why can’t they think to put some seatbelts in these chairs? In nearly every episode. Auto-destruct is at two minutes. it’s another stupid dream and I’m David Sand the butterfly-brained rip-raping sandman. auto-destruct sequence activated. in the dreams to come! We can have it. yes! Heat is our only chance. but only if you get to the bridge!” “I’m on the fucking brindge.” Spock responds to my thoughts. She looks hot. they’re sending a message. fifty-seven seconds somehow stretching out to something like two minutes. I expect applause but only get Spock.” The bridge. Kirk sure would want to spacebone Mary with her body showing off like this.” Uhura interjects. dizzy and staggering. and it finally dawns on me that I’m dreaming a dream. I glance down. Hands grip my shoulders.” I slur. “Security!” “Inter-ship channels have been cut off. Auto-destruct? What the fuck? “Shut it off!” I demand. There are two security guards standing stiffly on the bridge. but me playing the role of Kirk. so melodramatic. and the time was never accurate anyway. It’s a TV show. throwing Chekov out of his chair. We probably have more time than… . “They… they intend to take the bridge.” Spock monotones the countdown. so hot that… “Yes. but the doors won’t slide open to let them in. For some reason that hits me even harder than the prospect of the entire ship blowing up. I always hated these silly countdowns.” Uhura informs us.“Security to engineering. “Negative. Mary pleads with me to hold on. She keeps saying that — wake up. Jim is Kirk and I’m not really Kirk. The feeling of vertigo returns and I’m propelled out of my chair.

like we're finally getting somewhere. suddenly feeling a bit more clear-headed. aims it at the door and fires. feeling pretty smart. “Do you understand? You have to get to the bridge. not the inverted V of Starfleet but an organic looking “O”. Crap. “Won’t open. two red-giant sun-cunts vaporizing the barrier in an instant. because of the drugs. waves of heat stereo-kissing my rigid cock. Fuckin’ right no object can withstand desire’s force. drag-walking me to the turbo-lift door. Mary aims the phaser at Uhura’s pussy and fires. David. She unclips the phaser from my belt. “They’re going to destroy the bridge!” “Forty seconds. supporting — it’s Uhura. “Hurry!” I think she means me. “Not only drugs — they’re trying to reconfigure your brain!” Yeoman Mary explains. I didn’t mean to yell at her — I’m not myself.” I remind them. the sound so luscious it makes my cock feel like it could fire all phaser banks right into her. and I see an insignia that’s all wrong. which is actually a snake eating its tail. two female furnaces radiating to either side of me. The bridge. but she unzips my pants and draws my cock into her mouth. only there is no inside. I groggily watch the red-hot beam of light strike the door. too. sucking like crazy. right.” is all I can think to say. I feel other hands on me. Mary trains her weapon on her own sweet juicebox. that went nowhere.“There isn’t any time!” Mary shakes my shoulders harder. her lovely tits exuberant. Mary rushes back. the bridge. Uhura collapses to her knees. those cock-hardening Glands of Montgomery hiding somewhere under the red dress. and somebody tells him to shut his Vulcan pie-hole. determined. “Lift your skirt!” Mary demands. I take control of the dream by floating out of my body… Well shit. “You shut up. I fall to the floor when they move forward to grind their pussies into the doors.” Spock counts. orange-red color washing over everything. I couldn’t even flap the flutterfly wings in my head for lift-off. making my Kirk head jerk. lifting. swirling saliva everywhere. but it’s Uhura lifting hers with her free hand. pulsing into it. “They’re going to change you back… They might even kill you! We have to get you to the bridge!” My eyes roll around her boob area. Uhura moans a Swahili moan. only the entrance to the bridge. magmatizing her petite pussy. “Whoa-ho!” I bellow. gasping — I think she’s exhausted or broken. Snakefleet? Oh. the bridge! There isn’t any time!” “Well where the fuck is it?” I complain. voice even. accomplishing nothing. Uhura lets my dick pop out and I’m pulled inside the turbo-lift. dreaming that I’m drugged and only half with it already because my brain’s being reconfingered. making it glow.” Mary reprimands. turning the area between her legs into a glowing molten mass of sweet dark fuck-flesh. stretching out into what . “Somebody help us!” Mary yells. opening nothing. “Fug. that’s one of the dream symbols and I’m dreaming. reaching down to tug me to my feet. taking me by the left armpit while Mary holds the right. voice urgent.

planting her lips on mine. I take her hand. “He can’t cross to…” I think I hear Mary say. eight…” I look into Mary’s eyes. “On thin ice. my body shattering. hand turning the key. just riding. riding like the allannihilating wind… I hear distortion. everything consumed except my hand on the throttle. the surface of the bridge itself wavering. you fell asleep!” It’s my head that jerks up. beyond the water. have always known I’d have to cross but dreaded crossing. waving his arms as if to say “no”. I don't think I'm going to make it — even my wrist working the throttle feels like it's breaking apart. air sucked out. Her eyes are moist and it kills me to leave her. the bike humming like I’ve never felt before. “Where… am I?” I choke out. I see the ancient toll man ambling forward. the key conveniently dreamed into the ignition. just ride. “Nine. not without… My Honda. “Shoot him. my cheek pressed into her sweater and the plump young tits underneath the sweater. I could never cross that. my legs assuming a riding position.looks like forever. bent right into my breaking skull… “Uhhhh!” I cry out. needing. beyond even the stars. I open my eyes and I’m staring at the underside of Sophie’s chin. like the flesh is being ripped off the bones. giving it any gas it wants. Mary sets my rear on the seat and instinct takes over.” Sophie snaps. wind whipping at my face. pointing at the twin candles and gesticulating. twisted sound growling from inside myself. the stars winking above us. I see it leaning on its kickstand. bumping against something soft. and the engine roars. The gas tank is her next target. my lungs caving in. “Fuck being a hapless pawn!” Mary declares. “Uh? You jerk. “I’m sorry” right before she lifts the phaser and vaporizes the guy. She leans into me. not in a million years. ride as fast as I can. engine whining. pressing. being eaten. “I’m that boring. The old guy wanted heat? He got heat and I’m sitting on it. “Never forget how much I love you!” before urging me to ride. ride. letting go. letting any residual fear be eaten too. too. surging at high speed onto the bridge I could never cross. the air turning to pressure and howling sound that gnaws at me. but I twist the throttle. pressure battering at me in waves. my screams of defiance devoured before they’ve even been uttered.” I say. squealing rubber as I kick into first gear. Mary fires her phaser at the two round candles on either side of the bridge. yowling wrenching curling streams of turbulence buffeting not just me but everything around me. opening the engine. our tongues meeting. am I?” . everything including light and sound sucked inside. making them pulse with white-hot heat. foot working the gears. ride! I hear Spock say. squeezing tightly. “But he hasn’t paid the toll!” the old man objects. creating its sweet purr-vibration against my crotch. the engine catching. mine welling with tears. She whispers.

but it’s more than that. made art and suffered through the aftermath of 2/18… All those things I did. I feel her warm hand on my cheek and I turn toward her. And just a few minutes ago. right now. dream-Mary proclaiming again and again: There isn’t any time… “I… I think I need to lie back down. “What’s gotten into you?” What do I say? What do I even believe? It can’t have been a dream. um… confused. but I’m already awake. taking in my surroundings. or lobotomized. on the bank of Freeman’s Cove. the irresistible dimples. And once it’s there. Probably the same thing as right here. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I try to lift out of my body again. or in a coma. ’Back then’ is a deeper concept than you realize. I'm in an operating room. my face too young with no knot on my head. back then when we briefly had something of a chance. watched my parents separate. not convinced she’s real. Her eyes convey something that I didn’t see before. She looks completely real but I'n not here. the full lips. got and lost jobs. or delirious from my injuries. I take Sophie's hand in mine. growing. not raw and needing physical therapy.” I say. my brain in danger. I am definitely awake. What about the research facility. or brain-dead. all that the entire world went through — I remember seven years of experiences dammit. trying to lift out of my body. which cannot be. then I’m actually here. if not one of those. hoping to fucking survive… “What?” she asks again. feeling like I’m going to faint. other voices flood in. and it feels strong. I shiver. Sophie's face looks so beautiful up there beyond the shelf of her boobs. “Here I am thinking this might be a special night. “What?” she asks.I sit up. peering into her curious eyes. Sex is not the first thing on my mind. although “here” would also have to be “then”. all the people I know. “David?” “I’m. I recognize it this time because I just saw it moistening Mary Poole’s eyes as we had . like echoes from another world. I finished high school. and he falls asleep on me. but I feel my cock tingling. or drugged. being injured and drugged. not seven years of my life. as though I might find all the answers in there. My head slips back into Sophie’s lap. and she softly strokes my brow with the back of her hand. hearing my own voice asking dream-Sophie what’s on the other side of the bridge.” Sophie mutters to the stars. “Just give me a minute to… to…” To what? It depends on whether I’m dreaming. she answered. absorbing the lovely planes. or dead-dead. We’re on the hood of my old truck. Or. went to college and half of grad school. I’m dreaming again. fucked girls. or perhaps to me.” she urges. I surmise. “Tell me what it is. trying to see underneath the surface. I peer in even deeper. Nothing. seeing myself reflected. and they happened.” I tell Sophie. I know they happened. in a dream about right here. dream-Nicole’s voice reverberates in my brain. in the dark. Crap.

a David considerably changed from the teen version. Chapter Eleven — Déjà Vu All Over Again. our separate… times? I look at Sophie. even when I knew for certain that I was dreaming. I can. I don’t suffer in that way now. Being here with Sophie is different because I’m different. only I keep getting these chills that make the hairs on my arms stand on end. or a more inclusive kind of desire. rearranging themselves to give me some sign. the me I knew trapped in a reality — or a dream — inside a body that isn't quite seventeen years old. Or worse. not at all. back now. Every instant is not an exact replay. so it isn’t like I’m stuck with being the exact same me that I used to be. skipping flat stones on the lapping waters with Sophie. Only now. with a lawful chaos that our senses know to be true. a girl's hot tongue deep in my mouth. She bends down. And I definitely want things to be different. I remember being so unsure of myself at this age. She misreads my expression. Only this is a different kind of desire. Don’t forget how much I love you. From horizon to horizon I detect no flaws. My mind rushes in all directions to remember who Jackie Hill is.to go our separate ways. The twist is that all of my interior thoughts are different. Desire. then Mary Poole and I haven’t even met. or whether this is all a perfectly lifelike scenario taking place within my sleeping mind. My face and body say seventeen — I did a quick check in the truck’s side mirror just to make sure — but my mind is years ahead of my body. the ripples on the water moving as water moves. They wink impassively as always. terribly confused yet almost certain that the truth is all around me. my heart sighing as my tongue reaches out. as I experience when Sophie asks what I thought of Jackie Hill’s performance in the school play. I think I see her cheeks flush with color even in the dim silver light. Here on the bank of Freeman’s Cove. every blade of grass is completely delineated. what she looked like — looks like — and whether I can remember any play at all. containing memories of experiences that shouldn’t be. her mouth and eyes so expressive. yet also torn in two. my body heating up just as it should. the result of being hopelessly lost even though I know exactly where I am. if “now” is “then”. but I don’t even know whether Sophie and I actually exist here. It's all just right. eager but afraid. because this is the night that ended up leaving a bad taste in my . my goosebump breathlessness — or maybe she doesn’t. but that lack of certainty has been replaced with a new kind — I’m more confident. though. but I can’t remember how I answered the question back then. lips wet and full. Almost I keep looking to the stars like they might smile upon me. not if now is now. leaving me to compare the patterns and recognizable constellations that I see with memories of what a night sky should look like. feeling so unformed and shy. the product of events I’d rather not think about. vaguely. my senses telling me that this is all happening even as other senses tell me that none of this can be real. That feeling of vertigo comes back. So I dodge. more chills washing over me that have nothing to do with the damp spring air. because so many moments that pass are like reliving a script that Sophie and I both read from seven years ago. I feel all filled up. and my brain is… just a brain? I am one confused soul. only it’s different this time. my mind filled with memories of things that haven’t happened yet. no errant elements or areas of vagueness — but then I never could prove that a dream wasn’t real. what I’m completely certain of is that I didn’t make this particular comment before. and we kiss the way we did that night. within a deformed or distressed mind. and tell Sophie that she should think about being an actress because she’s so lovely. The pattern is just like the lucid dream of The Pizza Escape — minus being able to float out of my body — where things repeated the known form of this night unless I consciously intervened to make it different.

I almost feel like I’d give my right arm just to know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m actually here. maybe stuck in a state of dreamanesthesia. her voice trailing off. and I feel Sophie’s shoulder lean ever so slightly against my arm. getting the taste of what I always wanted. We’re going to be awfully embarrassed someday when we discover we were staring at balloon-filled sweaters all along. very warm. what are the chances that this night is really this night? I try to lift out of my body again… Can’t. I feel my heart pounding. our hearts hammering together. but the silence isn’t tense or distant. She's enjoying herself when I stammer: “They’re… I'm. She pushes away for an instant. and I don't remember her ever using it. her breasts two swells upon me. as opposed to being back there. getting another chance and taking it. or trapped in a dream-coma inside the research facility. We’re standing side by side. but …” I remember saying it.mouth. Sophie. just as I did then and have ever since. Only. and my body responds. we’re back on script. both of her hands seeking the shape of the erection that we both know is there. but screw it — if I am. inviting more contact. she feels much closer than ever before. which tells me… maybe nothing. I also feel Sophie’s shoulder. “That’s twice tonight you’ve told me that you think I’m really pretty. I think she’s still speaking about Gina Marie’s knockers being fake. and I’d be a fool to live to regret this night twice. pulling Sophie to me with no warning. Not like I believe that. I know how it will play out if I say and do the things I did then. almost roughly. until she finishes with “…I’d think you're saying nice things because you're getting sweet on me.” Sophie responds. an experiment aimed at seeing what is possible — has completely changed. I wouldn’t keep repeating it if it weren’t true. when mine were right in front of you?” “Well…” Shit. I’ll bet my parents are closing up the diner right now. kissing her insistently.” “Oh? Then why couldn’t you take your eyes off her boobs. She grinds herself against my hand. You're being…” She laughs. I might be in bad shape in a reality outside of this one. It feels so right to do it. “If I didn’t know better…” she begins. the touch of her shoulder hauntingly familiar. “Is that right?” “You said earlier that I’m as pretty as Gina Marie. her tongue seeking mine as her body boomerangs.” I shudder with this complete sense of the déjà vu creeps. The touch of her hands on my hardness is like a release valve. and in the vivid dream about back then. this is a great way to go.. a lost chance that I’m not sure I ever recovered from.” She goes silent for a bit after that. I’m not sure what I believe when the thought comes. looking out at the moonlit ripples on the water. “You know. her words the living echo of events long passed.” Sweet on me — it's a quaint phrase. then doesn’t. mouth disengaging to take in more breath. Now I simply want Sophie. All of a sudden what I want to do — alter the preordained flow of events. and a louder throat-moan when I press hard enough into her delta that I know I must be opening her up underneath her jeans. sometimes I can’t believe them either. I thought I was being nice to her. because after a brief sidetrack. True to form. “You know me. emptying the mind of all it seeks answers to. I can see that Sophie likes having put me there. When she adds. “I know.. no matter what. . She makes little cries in her throat as my hands roam up her thighs. in fact. both in real life back then. and suddenly I'm on the defensive.

carefully. lowering them to my knees. I know. My underwear are white — they look silly to me. her eyes still raised. If I have my facts straight. pulling just slightly. apparently caught off guard by what she sees. . but I’m not now. her fingers exploring. almost undulating. pulling her sweater over her head. “Oh jeez. circling as they can. stepping out until she’s completely naked. boy underwear from the past glowing silver in the near-dark. her hands manipulating my sensitive flesh to make me need her even more. She keeps looking into my eyes. to the impulses screaming inside my body to jam my hand inside Sophie's silken panties. I say. guiding her forward with reassuring slowness. like I’m being mouth jellyfished. her young firm flesh pale before me. or nearly the first. She looks up into my eyes when her tongue reaches out. seeking confirmation of what feels especially good. saliva giving me a slow-motion hot bath… I’m beginning to hyperventilate when Sophie slips me out. yet I don’t know where events are leading me. She undoes her jeans completely. kneading her and needing her. and only when we have a bed of cotton to sink onto does her mouth seek my cock again. so welcoming. though. wishing to see the results of her efforts on my face. lips slowly engulfing my cock-head. letting her know how I want it. my cock throbbing in her hands. this is the first time she’s given head. her tongue flicking underneath. not in this way. Her mouth goes at mine again. and everything feels good. and I'm a lot for a mouth to take in. Her fingers mold themselves to the shape of my cock’s base. and can just respond to the moment. almost cold. gently kneading the wet terrain. tongue pressing harder. arranging our clothes into a makeshift ground cover. She slowly squats. “Oh yes. hotter. This is all new — none of this transpired before. It’s chilly. so moving… This can’t be real — I’m about ninety percent certain that it’s not — but the warm wet of her mouth snailing around my thick meat. but they’re already quite impressive. offering her pussy to direct contact. She must assume that I’m similarly inexperienced — and I was. she’s only had one. I’m repeating a night I lived and have dreamed about. Her tits are wonderful — they’ll get even bigger. Sophie kneels down. unsnapping the snap above to let a small hand flatten to my abdomen. her other hand clutching at mine. Holy fuck her mouth feels like liquid silk. She goes at me slowly. “Jeez. forcing it inside the waistband of her jeans. David!” Sophie repeats.” when her tongue takes it’s first light taste. and they were experimental unions. fingertips touching hotness. I place my hands on the back of her neck. bringing them down with her panties. almost hypnotically round. nothing ongoing or serious. looking down at my erection.” she whispers. Her jaw unhinges. which is so normal that I’m reassured. but I don’t care any more than she does.Sophie lowers my zipper. bringing her head in line with the ramrod thrusting out like nobody’s business. not out here. my width spreading her cheeks. lips wiggling. pulling the zipper down. taking in more of me this time. but she’s also relatively inexperienced. resting her head on my chest. I don’t want her to stop. affectionately kissing the tip of my dick. She's hesitant. My jeans and jockeys become history within living history. giving me a tentative squeeze. I know that Sophie is not a virgin. She unclasps them. wetness… She sighs when I finger her. staring eyes to eye. unclasping her bra and letting it fall away. my shirt and T-shirt pulled away and thrown to the ground. pulling at my jeans. almost walking the entire length of me. maybe two lovers before. David. “I’ve… wanted this!” she exhales. gliding down until its flow is interrupted by hard hot horizontality. She’s breathing rapidly through her nose. I sense her insecurity — as far as I know. lightly caressing it with both hands. dipping underneath to cup my balls. but she stands. not yet aware of how fabulous it feels to me when she does the things she's doing.

oh my God…” I’m not sure what’s happening — I’m touching Sophie’s nipples. She grins a devious grin. and her hips grind against me like I just discovered a secret on-switch. She struggles a little to take me in all the way. fucking Sophie. allowing saliva to flow onto me. cock expanding. her tongue cunning in the way it flicks. teasing it with my tongue… “Uh!” she cries. like she’s just realized that she can give an orgasm. liking it even more when I hiss or groan.“Keep going. the sounds going more liquid. the sounds involuntary. I start with her breasts. and she doesn’t hesitate. penetration still a relatively new experience. my balls ache. And then the salty mouth is on my neck. “I’m going to suck you off. my cock still eerily hard. losing any fears that she doesn’t know what she’s doing because oh God does she know. liking the feeling of power over me. somehow knowing I can do it. licking at my tip with her tongue. I get a flash of her head disengaged from my shining cock. her lower body jerking. her tongue circling. She no longer tells me what she's going to do because she's doing it. liking it when my dick jerks expectantly. the sucking ramping up. dabs. driving her mouth down my length a little more each time. sliding in the wet from her mouth. I call out her name. going for it. “Yes!” She says it again. squeezing tight. I keep coming and she keeps swallowing. “Yes. I hiss. “Uh! Oh God. I can see the moment when the lightbulb brightens. don’t be afraid of hurting me…” Her eyes smile for an instant. her pussy worming frenetically around my pole. has she figured it out. the pressure building… “Oh God Sophie. And all the . this time with her lips touching the tip of my dick. I ease her onto her back. She slowly pumps the flesh. only the areoles are wider and paler circles. failing. peering up into my eyes. Sophie.” she repeats. her pussy so tight. lips pulling and twisting. pulsing insistently like even after coming I’m getting more erect. hands wrapping around the base of my cock. and again. a gifted tease. They’re so much like Mary’s. her fire blazing like she has clits for tits. a rope of cum leaping up at her nose as cum she’s already taken in trails from her lower lip. “Use your hands. her head still bobbing. head bobbing. when experimentation changes to a kind of ownership. cheeks sucking. her hands clamped. and she says it again. her body wrapping its heat to mine. tapping the tip of her nose. She’s a natural tease. pulling harder.” I encourage. I take her in my arms. finding it still hard and wet. more forceful. my body in her hands. the textural Glands of Montgomery slightly less plentiful. oh fuck. “I’m going to suck you off. not less. I stroke one nipple with my fingertips. David! I… Oh my God. moaning as my cum spurts into her mouth. Her hands clutch at my cock. warming her and loving her warmth. her lips puckering.” I urge her on. my cock hot and pulsing in her mouth. Sophie!” She tears the orgasm from me with a long wet tug. feeling my cock swell. adorable dimples deepening as her hands becoming more active. my head thrashing from side to side. trying to take all of it. so creamy and pale. Knowing what I want. This is Sophie. my cock twitching. pumping. my mouth going to her left nipple. making me cry out. my fingers starting to tingle electric and numb. with the inspiring nipples that mostly eluded me before.” she whispers. a novice getting better at cocksucking by the second. each time with her lips and tongue doing a tiny bit more. grasping it and gently pulling.

faster. I go slow inside of her — for about ten seconds. coming again. consequences be damned. too. just going and going even harder. her eyes roll back until nothing but the whites show. I’m being begged to fuck her hard. where a younger version of Millie resides with Dan. Her screams turn to owl-like whoops before I’ve even hit my stride. and she can’t hide the shock at what she’s feeling in there. into a place of wonder where impossible pleasures are real and true. my dick still hard as stone. finally taking me hard and deep. making her howls turn to a scattered growling. “David. I’m not sure which feels stranger — that I’ll slip into my bed under my parents’ roof. her eyes even wider. still alive. either coming in a dream or coming like I never could before those dreams. Sophie coming yet again. forehead wrinkling from the absurdly wide eyes. this is going to be one fabulous pussy-reaming. so big and wide that she suddenly looks like a child version of herself. fuck her fast and deep. legs clamping around my back. or that Sophie will go back to her parents’ place behind the diner. her eyes sort of crazed. and it’s only when we’ve come to a rest. soundwaves of passion glancing off the ripples in the cove. crying our cries. the water just as cold as the air. I don’t know who Sophie fucked before. D…David!” sounding out over the waters. my balls still super-heated. calling out my name. her fingers digging into my arms as her eyes roll back further.while the breathy “Uh!”s. the dimples sucking in even though her smile is more about being stunned. everything be damned. Home. I feel myself hardening more inside of her. Driving back into town. louder this time. heat meeting heat so deep inside this bizarre opportunity to fuck a perfect peach of a desperately needy pussy. her hips thrusting to egg me on. opening her up further without even pumping yet. like an animal fighting for its life in the night. where our parents live. more and more and more… When Sophie comes. gifted in this version of the past by the backward reach of the butterfly-brained dreams to come… *** The moon is high and blue-white. going for it just like I went through all the gears on my bike on a bridge that couldn't be there. using a tiny piece of the Chesapeake Bay to rinse the sex from our bodies. I’ve never been held this tightly before. The thing is. I know it and she does too. because in only two thrusts she’s screaming for all she’s worth. why did I never get to see this look on her face before? I pound into her. and her pussy is clenching around me like it never wants to let go. her expression a mixture of shock and need. her boobs rocking. just keep pounding. She cries out again. or they never went this deep. the enhancements still enhanced. impossibly hard unless this isn't real. the two of us hurling liquid fire against each other. and she’s already reeling before we’ve even started fucking. my lost love from the past finally found. We cling together. give it even more. future-estranged mother and father still together. Though she can’t say it. or real if I've somehow retained something from what happened before. rolling on cotton and dirt. cleaning up as we can to go home. Sophie asks me to stop a block away from her house. a new wave of deliverance building inside of me. like she's going back in time. being devastated. God fucking damn. her pussy expressing nothing but more. can’t hope to form the words with her distorted mouth. like her wet cunt is a greased too-small glove managing to contain me without ripping. the glow of my brake lights rimming . mixing with the moonlight. We dip my T-shirt into it. Real or not. Her face is beet red. but they weren’t this big.

and make some semi-lame comment about how much she turns me on. But I… I just went crazy inside! I needed you! Kind of… desperately?” “I understand. We might have been overdue. "So many times. and I'm sensitive there. I noticed that. “What?” “I… I don’t know if I could have lived with myself if we hadn’t gone all the way tonight.” I say." I state. which resurrects the beast between my legs in about half a second. get smaller and dimmer. like that says it all. I don’t know fucking anything any more. Only she's breathing heavily. that she leans into me with two hands on my cheeks. something happened. watching her wonderful rear sway in the headlights. As she sits there in the passenger seat.” giving the throbbing loved one a goodnight squeeze. placing her hand on my groin. kissing me with a bold and probing tongue. arms under tits. lightly rocking back and forth." Instead I just shrug my shoulders. She leans down and whispers. But once we got started and you…” She hugs her body. she turns. “I love you too. and looking like she can't decide whether to say something. and I’m finally alone. When she gets out of the truck. David. no delaying this time. and waves. “When you kissed my breasts… I mean. since I barely even believe I'm this age. "I mean. I’ve been… you know. She rests with her back to the passenger door for a moment. maybe only a quarter-assed. believing the words to be true. Sophie kisses me again.her face with red." "We were both ready. I think I can recall what I aimed into a dream-Sophie several days before — or half a dozen years from now. I was a blundering dream idiot just the other day. When my hands and lips touch your nipples. “This is going to sound weird…” she whispers. Sophie Moran. the desires inside of you become overwhelming. . even if the circumstances could be a complete fabrication. And maybe I do. too. horny before. without some sort of… Aren't you supposed to need a rest period?" "I'm seventeen. like remembering the feeling of my hands and tongue there is bringing it all back. breathing out that she loves me. like she's preparing to get out. it's big. and beautiful… But shit. depending: You need to fuck me tonight." "No. It's a pretty half-assed answer. “I love you. but that’s nothing compared to the cluelessness I’m living right now. banging the fuck out of you. just insufficient. it just doesn't quit!" A completely honest response would be: "Yeah. watching my Big Regret. a dark feminine shape moving briskly under a canopy of eternal stars. what I mean is… I wanted you — I've wanted you. Could it be? I don’t know. and you have to have my cock buried deep inside your pussy. When she reaches her parents’ door.” I say. "I didn't know guys could do that. too." she adds. "You have one sexy penis. I sit there with the engine running. No excuses." she finally lets it out. expression shy. then disengaging. Which is true.

the news recap at the top of the hour all old news. their reflective whiteness glowing blandly on the deep green field of an exit sign. If I’m even here. the date 2/18 representing nothing. realizing that I've fallen in love for the second time in one day. one more invisible victim of the War On Nuclear and BioTerror. with people sleeping tranquilly under intact roofs. I guess — if they turned my brain into vegetable matter. driving along the manicured streets in the nearby cookie-cutter housing developments. Who knows what they did on those floors before the program came into being — I don’t know all the history. just needing to collect my breath. I can't resist turning off the highway. It’s too freaky. and I don’t think I’m ready to hear them. can I? Not unless I wake up. And then pro basketball scores. I can’t really be sure. The people living here are hopeful. believing in upward mobility. the thought of just strolling into my old house like I belong there. peering towards myself with no way to know that I’m doing it. the whole LDSP not yet a blip in her brain. what I do see just a few miles in — the letters NSA. or shoved me into a comatose state through which I dream this reality. not yet. Returning to the faster roads. giving voice to some of the loopy ideas swimming around in my brain. when the middle class hadn't been gang-banged and gas was affordable. One of my days. Traffic seems unnaturally heavy for this late at night — I guess I’d forgotten how many people drove cars back now. and the next. Pepper mostly so I have something to do with my mouth. like tonight is just another night back then where everything is normal. If they’re real. and I’m merging onto an all-too familiar highway. what would be the point in keeping me around? They’d put me somewhere hidden.Alone. If she’s real. tuning to a pop station where the music is all old music. The Iraq War is still going. but Anne could be a student right now. or a junior researcher somewhere. which make me laugh because I already know who’s going to win the championship this year. with the knowing ahead. I could be inside the building right now. I drive towards Baltimore instead. waiting to see what I’m going to see. I get the sense of an immense quiet. I’m afraid that without it I’m going to start talking to myself. parching their dreams until they and all their possessions are dried out. I shudder. the stock market up with nobody having a clue how fast what goes up can come down. I’m not quite sure where I’m going… Yes I do. or just die. because my heart is beating too fast. I don't know how to be with that. stopping to buy gas at a ridiculously low price. To my ear it sounds like the wrong guy is president. the flames. Or. getting a Dr. The research facility is over there through the trees — the building. the chances of my ever entering that building seeming like several million to one. and the next. not seeing that a glass ceiling can blow down upon their trimmed lawns like an ill wind. . either letting me rot slowly or seeing to it that I don’t stick around too long. perfect tinder for torches lit with anger and desperation. anyway. that the prime minister of Great Britain still has the initials of a disease. I shake my head when I come to the area where the box stores sit closed but tranquil. *** I don’t go straight home. I could be anywhere. the show suddenly over. A couple minutes further on I pull to the shoulder and stop. untouched by the riots. anyway. not unless it's the date a relationship breaks off because someone forgot Valentine's Day four days before. dreaming that I’m out here on the road in another time. I try to distract myself by turning on the radio. where I find myself.

It’s plausible that they’re clipping my butterfly’s wings at this very moment — a miraculously extended moment — and reliving this night is what the death-throes of a deflating brain look and feel like. will I dream? Will I lucid dream? And if I lucid dream. Pepper. to the university and even the pool hall I frequent. My brain hurts. Only the wind is free. I’m teen-aged David Sand. I try to remember the particulars. When he's executed and the guns fire. even my life — ebbs away. Wherever/whenever it is. he got to live out more of his life inside his own mind. hovering motionless on the ground. I try to remember any I might have had as I shower. one last memory flashing in drawn-out time while all that potential — or hell. I look at the building again. everything frozen. though. and look in my dresser mirror… I’m still too young. The spider is meticulous in maintaining her web. and the irony almost hurts. or the shadow of a bee. looking all around. I should write it down. all crunched into one miniscule moment. to think about his life. and mentally work out all of his unfinished projects. I have a couple of seconds of total disorientation. Each thread is arranged where it was always meant to be arranged. I’m kind of grateful for being pooped out — I probably would have driven to my apartment building. add one more possibility to the long list of where right here could be. needing to see the places I know. but I want to know what will happen when I sleep. That's . And he came to understand that God had granted him the passage of a year's time within frozen time. But it is not identical. and the overall composition is altered. In other words. if there's any way I can. but a little too lean. her multifaceted perspective. the locations right even if the timing is all wrong. I jerk awake — it's my alarm going off. carrying her beeps of protest to my ears.A memory surfaces. even after the Dr. Considering the alternatives I can easily dream up. whichever time that is. No tear can be faithfully replaced at a molecular level. I hear the spider crying out in alarm. contemplating whatever he felt the need to contemplate. perhaps it's even the same within her superior vision. and there was a wonderful image of a bee. And then… Well. Yet there are times when strange winds snap one of the lines. can I still work the lust magic that got me into all that trouble in the first place? And when I wake up… Fuck knows where and when I’ll be. *** I watch the black widow spider carefully weaving her web. and there’s nothing there but another spider dream. repeatedly protesting… Yet she. and a new pattern exists. To the naked eye it looks the same. or if I was in it. I read a brilliant short story by Jorge Luis Borges in college — which possibly hasn't happened yet — about a guy condemned to die by firing squad. I jump out of bed. and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. instead I just feel fatigued. I’m me. which was the moment of his death. the intersections carefully planned. coming to the area where the order has been disturbed. we’ll see when the time comes. where I remember falling asleep at three in the morning. With her devotion the pattern is restored… Almost. it probably is. mending the tear or oozing out a new line in place of the old. This is still my bedroom in my parents’ house. time stops for him — as I remember it he sees the stilled smoke of the guns. I think I’ll trust that reality more than I trust this one. I just want to fucking know. then sit up. Thinking of dreams. If I can sleep. is subject to the patterns within her web. too. I think what I really need to do is go home and go to sleep — sure it will feel bizarre under that roof with my parents in the next room. and think I have it. the pattern set. Maybe that should fill me with anxiety. A short dream — I don't even know where I was in it. with the faint stubble on my jaw a little too peachy. Fuck. And if I can.

and I did nothing… I can’t do nothing. including my high school diploma. I examine my penis. and his loss was devastating to the entire community. which is getting ready for school. or there’s a test in front of me and I must have blanked on the need to study for it. or my good cameras. A mistaken detail that proves I'm dreaming this? Symbolic phaser-heated candle-balls made flesh? Fuck if I know. but he’s a friend. my college degree. Or my history. I can’t let that happen — can I? How would I stop it? And if I could stop it. because I have to become acquainted again with my clothing choices. It will change — I didn’t stay this age before. He shouldn’t have died — everyone always said that. I fix coffee and put some granola with strawberries in a bowl. I could be dreaming something like that right now. who gives a crap how I score on any test? It’s either unreal. which Mary would almost certainly say is significant. where I have a book report due and I never read the book.” I hear my mom say behind me. I'd swear that it's a little bit bigger than it used to be. I don’t have my own place. being this age again if that never changes. because what are the assignments. and that's a fact — almost. I'm just generally too big down there. right here in town. drowned in a boating accident. and God help me when I’m sitting in class today. and sit on the front porch steps in the morning sun. trying to decide whether I can live like this. the night I didn’t make love with Sophie the first time around. watching disasters repeat themselves… I stop eating. I deliberately narrow my focus to what's right in front of me. and his hour of need is nearly here. and my balls are definitely enlarged. because I think of Dan. “Beautiful morning. because it all looks like gibberish. Shit. getting ready for work in the patterns I remember. I’d have to repeat the whole shebang again. It takes me a while to get my things together. so hard that I have to grit my teeth to not jerk off in the soap and spray. then Dan will be dead in a couple of days. I think I have to try. Everything is quiet down in the kitchen — normally my mom would have cereal out. . or I already know that a few fractions up or down on my GPA are meaningless to my future. or my motorcycle. I never got as close to him as I did Millie. knowing the crap to come ahead of time. although I can’t see myself telling Millie or anyone else that I’m from the future. I’ve lost everything I ever owned and most of the non-childhood things I've done. If this is real and I know what I know. Curious about the ferocity of my erection. If last night was The Pizza Escape night.two spider dreams. and watch the world go to hell again. only they’re not here. what other things should I try to prevent? My parents’ divorce? The 2/18 attack turning Australia into a lost continent? I don’t even want to go there when I’m not convinced that this reality is really real. Mary. when are the tests. and can I even remember half the names of the teachers and classmates I’m supposed to know? I’ve had dreams like that. and who’s to know the difference? It’s funny — either way. Only… shit. or I could actually be going to school. Freshly frustrated by not knowing what's true. and my dad would be reading the paper. I get hard thinking about her. that his death was just plain wrong. my books and bags. But Dan is different — he’s Sophie’s dad. I heard my dad snoring in their bedroom when I slipped in last night — they’re here. I don’t remember exactly what I own and what I don’t own. and it’s safe to assume that I won’t now. a recurring pattern. She wouldn't believe me for one thing. and I wouldn’t have any way of proving it when I can’t even prove it to myself.

because she’s walking in my direction. coming to a stop just a few feet from me. You don’t think I deserve a weekend?” Saturday! What a fucking relief! “When did you start drinking coffee?” she asks. and remember that I barely touched the stuff until I left for college. absorbing their vastness. She’s going to an early practice.” Gina Marie says. My mom looks like an imposter. too. listening to the birds. She gives me a knowing look — I’m pretty sure it’s one of those “mother always knows” things. standing on her front stoop. which was about the extent of our communication at this age. why she isn’t dressed. and it’s the weirdest feeling. I can see that I’m starting to believe in all of this. The sun emits light and heat. “Saturday is up. I’m looking up at her. and Jeezus Louizas. did it? The blue and gold of her uniform shines brightly in the sun. to get a good long peek at those boobs stretch-torturing her uniform top. the way they jut out like they know how incredible they are. all dressed up in her cheerleader’s uniform. so horn-crazed that she fucked my pecker into needing therapy. Seven years of living and drinking in one night will do that to you. The pecker in question must be learning-disabled. am I supposed to boycott everything I see happening around me. what was nature thinking when it granted this girl a set of whopping wonders like that? I think they were even huger in my apartment back in the future. And what choice do I have but to believe. and I kind of remember doing that with a digital camera so primitive that I'm embarrassed to own it. Glancing to my left I see it’s Gina Marie. considering the effect she had on my penis and all the other functioning ones in town. not her work clothes. brushing away the yellowjacket that arrives with an interest in the strawberries in my cereal bowl. After a few seconds I glance again. Sitting there. the same wish there as always. I shift uncomfortably. I look at the cup in my hand. and our eyes meet. thinking some things over. too — she’s too young and about ten pounds too thin. and I tell her that I just want to sit out in the sun. really? If tomorrow follows today just like today seems to be following yesterday. I have a hangover. I ask her what’s up. My mom just behaved like my mom. but I never got to stare at them like this. marveling at the way they move. sees me here… I give a slight nod.” she adds. declaring it to be false just because it should be false? I'm lost in these kinds of thoughts when I hear a porch door slam. even though I don’t think we ever had that particular exchange. The boobs are not where I expect them to be. pertaining to how late I stayed out. That never happened. concerned that my dick is going to stand up and salute so exuberantly that it will make a fool out of me. feeling like an imposter when she steps outside. too.I stand up. and dressed in a bathrobe. I give a shoulder-shrug for an answer — I think I did that a lot back then. That’s right. “I saw you at The Pizza Escape last night. She looks in my direction. dressed in one of the ways it should have been illegal for her to dress. because it’s tingling with the same energy that was its undoing before. and it seems kind of rude to me now. cutting across the grass. “Can I ask why?” . my head pretty much at her crotch level. knowing how this blonde gazonga-goddess ended up begging me to squeeze those monster tits. My mom asks if I want some eggs and bacon. “You took a picture of me from your table. and my ass is beginning to get uncomfortable on the hard wood of the porch. I guess.

bracing for the unseen trap. Hell. I suppose she could take that the wrong way if she wanted to. tells me I have an often horny and sometimes-slackerish teen on my hands. Instead she just stands there breathing. "I haven’t even had a chance to see whether you showed up in the low light. I mean…” I look up the length of her strong legs.” She hesitates and I expect her to mutter “don't ever point a camera at me again”.” she finally says. or at the curvy behind and the legs that are almost as wondrous? Good God it’s still hard being around this girl. There might not even be anything there. and that doesn’t make me a bad guy. as though I actually proposed something here. when she wasn't before? “Look. and I finally exhale: “We will?” And then I’m left with a dozen new questions." She stands there without saying anything. and it might be a sign of good . so do you look at that particular wonder when she walks away. which is quite an event. So why is she here. and it's just enough time for me to regret the Grand Canyon metaphor. what’s under that uniform much bigger than two suns from where I’m sitting. The tops of her tits are awash in brilliance. but it never came together for him. Painfully hard. “What do you mean?” “You want to photograph me?” Suddenly I can't even breathe. “Gina Marie… You’re like the ninth and tenth wonders of the natural world. He got a few moments where he could spread his wings and fly.” she says. Chapter Twelve — Second Chances I am not a maker of lists by nature. and her breathing is like the sunlight finally finding something big and round like the sun to rest upon comfortably. and I always thought she did.We definitely did not have this conversation before. added to the well-known Gina Marie backside conundrum — part of her tits are still visible even from behind. trying to organize my thoughts. They need organizing. she could take my existence the wrong way. because I can't draw in a breath. “That’s not what you want either. “We’ll… talk. I spend part of this early Saturday morning on my computer in my bedroom. “Of… course?” I venture. my eyes resting meaningfully on the school letters being distorted by bucket-fulls of tit. that’s not what I want. But I’ll delete the picture if you want. He’s a kid named David Sand. It's human nature.” She turns and steps onto the lawn making her way towards her car. People like to document the… the remarkable. I have a moment of feeling that deer in the headlights thing… But fuck that — I wanted to try to get a shot of Gina Marie’s headlights. and let me tell you — some potential there. or something like that. or…” “No. More epic breathing — in fact we've become respiration opposites. in a past that my senses confirm as real. and then the world fell apart under his feet. “Let me think about it. mostly because I have a hard time sticking to them. just a guy into photography who wondered whether it’s even possible to fit these boobs within a picture frame. Nevertheless. needing to challenge the extended silence. "Just think how many people take pictures of the Grand Canyon." I say. because every minute that passes.

Which still makes me too clean for most positions in corporate America.p. with dial-up internet instead of high-speed. On a mission to set the poor guy’s life straight from my position of superior experience and utter existential confusion. try to have the entire fishing trip scrubbed. which goes like this: 1. because my mind keeps getting excited about new things. rather than writing down the dreams. I go back to number one and start to think about the recent dreams I’ve had… And I get this niggling need to add to the list. so I question whether it’s actually number three. figure a way to use that knowledge to make some dough. And I must be superstitious. A phone call early today is a must. and the early stuff quickly feels old. because I . Get a motorcycle. I appear to be living a life where somebody pushed a reset button. Crap. 2. Obvious.s. but I think I’d go batshit if I constantly resisted the evidence bombarding my senses. Like this yuckbox of a desktop. In fact. It looks like I can. Figure out what’s up with Gina Marie. That’s probably why lists don’t work for me. My dick probably cut in line. Write down what I remember of every dream I’ve had since I stopped recording them. because Sophie and I got in each other’s pants last night. We hooked up last night and that was not a casual thing. Good — the future I know sucks. Get a computer that isn’t a piece of crap.a. I mean. 7. it might only be that he was too focused on getting laid. If it's even available here yet. I come up with a hierarchy of must-do’s. and it’s disconcerting as hell that I’ve had two dreams featuring a poisonous spider. 3. Do not stress over successfully altering the future. 5. Call Sophie. That last one is for no particular reason — I just feel like I have to. Try to lucid dream when I sleep. Then again. Believing that I know the future. just immoral. 11. Get decent camera equipment a. I need to find out what I can still do in my dreams. I look at these things and I think I can do them. except me. 10. A bike just like my old one would almost be new. 13. Nothing horribly illegal. and what I can’t. Duh. Fuck Sophie again. Figure a way to keep Sophie’s father off that boat. and high speed internet. It needs changing. 6. Believe that I’m really here until something proves otherwise. everything is old to me in this reality. 4. 9. I think my dick came up with that one all by itself. although some of it will take more time than I’d wish.judgment that he didn't try flying too close to the sun. what an opportunity. Multiple times now I’ve missed rather obvious warnings from the subconscious mind. What a dick. It might be hard being a teen again. Find Mary Poole. Is she really contemplating a photo shoot of some kind? Why? What does it mean? 12. 8. For better or worse.

making her number fourteen. The other oddity in that dream is Mary. Moreover. followed by what I recall of the dream where I created a clay statue of Mary. With nothing else coming to mind. and — big surprise — I upend the purpose of the list by starting right there. or a singer in an obscure band. because it makes me feel sort of weepy. and start writing down what I can remember. I got nuttin'. I see that there are a lot of Mary Poole’s around. clicking on my tortoise browser and typing her name into the search engine. which was either a real time-bridge or… Or nothing. only I don’t know crap about Mary. The first is the insignia on Mary’s uniform. and why it won’t let go. a real loop. I have no middle name. We talked about my dreams. per number five above. or a debate team leader. What did I expect — she wouldn’t have studied that yet. or touring with the freaking circus… I squeeze my eyes closed. especially when I carved her further. no exact date or place of birth. After a bit of waiting. I try adding “behavioral science”. She could be a cheerleader. All the rest was like a gathering of previous symbols. So what does it mean to have an anima figure say goodbye like that? I don’t really know. like a piece of me did die. and the rest happened in on a bed. I try her name with “dreams”. then what would it mean that she came to life when my spunk sprayed on her? Is she also a symbol of the new connections that . the bridge served as an escape hatch to back here. trying to think. But fuck. If that version of Mary was also a dream woman. Could it be that the new potential to relate with myself within my own sleeping head knew it was being killed off. that’s all I know. And what would I do if I found her? She doesn’t know me here — she barely knew me there. and get nowhere. my brain/body connections returning to normal. because the messages about crossing the bridge appeared early on. no hobbies. deep down. or sacrificed itself so I could be here now. of a snake eating its tail. Stymied. The dream about the Enterprise bridge feels selfexplanatory — my mind was fucked up from whatever they were doing to me at the facility. but it’s no coincidence that the helpful and sexy dream women appeared right when the butterfly pattern came into being.don’t like seeing Mary’s name next to unlucky number thirteen. I need to type something else to bring the search closer. where what created the means of escape also created the need to escape in the first place. do I? I’m pretty sure that she’s my age. and that disorientation carried into the subconscious. making everything almost ridiculously sexy. no idea where she grew up or where she went to school. telling me to remember how much she loves me. That symbol has shown up in so many dreams now that I’d be a fool to keep ignoring it. and she got a degree in behavioral science. I glance at the top of the list. then hers. Only two things strike me as being peculiar. except that she had life-altering sex dreams in her teens. or perhaps a senior. culminating in crossing the bridge. They were uttered by a dream woman. where I could flee the consequences of all the mind-sex — the heat — that I’ve understood needed to be there for the bridge to ever be formed. but the real Mary never got the chance to say those words. that special ability feeling the need to say farewell? That’s one of those loopy ideas I’m almost afraid to ponder. I never got to know anything about her. then re-begin at the beginning by creating a new folder named “Dream Notebook”. not the real one. no parents’ names. I keep thinking of that as the real Mary tearfully letting go. and that doesn’t help either. I make myself type that idea. I need to know what it is. However that happened. or close to it — she’d be a junior in high school. no nothing. I employ elevator logic by leaving thirteen a blank. It was the beauty of her body that got to me. It’s like a circle of cause and effect. a figure inside my own head. that I’d end up back here contemplating these questions. I’d have to assume that I always knew.

just a few itsy-bitsy enhancements cascading into all that heightened sexual need.were formed. or the NSA with its tangled web of deceit. the sting of the scorpion representing the physical pain my body felt. and I have to do it. I had that dream as everything was turning to shit. why would the dream Mary need to say goodbye like that? I won’t know the answer to that one until I lucid dream. but it feels wrong. and if any of being here is real. Or repairing it. I've lost the one person I knew who could help me unravel these images. my cock being damaged from too much fucking. maybe Eduardo. That explanation sounds pretty good. thinking positively. Either I need to become a thousand times better at reading dream symbols. focusing on the black widow maintaining her web after it was damaged by the wind. If it was just that. Only not all of the enhancements were symbolic. I need to talk with her today anyway. It’s possible that the other enhancements. too… But if so. the spider a symbol for… I don’t know. because I’d hate to think whom I might be challenging. I think about how awful that all became. maybe even evil. I’m not sure what to think. then my balls are for-real bigger than they used to be. Get some books on symbols. . And if I can still do weird stuff while in my light body. they all became too deranged. Being back here I've not only lost Mary as a lover. then why have another spider dream here in the past? The NSA couldn't have followed me here. But except for Mary. “I won’t let him. Repairing it like Eduardo said. I go to the dream with the black widow spider being stalked by a scorpion. I’ll need to be a hundred times smarter this time. if I can. And what they did to my poor dick in their fuck-frenzied state… Shivering. I’m not going to lie — getting all that sex was fabulous. trying to alter an unfortunate event that's part of my history? I write all of that down. The changes I made to the Mary statue were really tiny — except for her tits. like their brains were nothing more than an extension of their snarling pussies. to avoid repeating my mistakes. I stayed hard non-stop with Sophie last night. I mean. Other than a sense of extreme danger. the unique alignments fueled by a newly available amount of sexual energy? I think that’s mostly right. or find someone with a gift for dream interpretation. Maybe… Millie? I don’t know if reading the I Ching is anything like reading a dream. I had those kinds of dreams before entering the lab. the cops and possibly Eduardo in my apartment.” I speak out loud. or I need someone trained or gifted in the art to help me. could they? The newest spider dream has few clues because it was kind of story-less. one of the things I dreamed about resulted in physical changes to my actual body. Somehow when I ended up back here. but extremely rarely. “We changed his brain. “Dan will not die like he did. Which prods me into adding another important thing to my to-do list: 15. the lucid dream abilities. but it’s a place I might start. It could be that I sensed all of that around me. we’ll change it back”? Or is it more like the way I’m thinking of repairing what’s going to happen to Dan. which became so freakin' sexy that I really must not think about them if I want to get anywhere here — yet that little bit of tweaking created a creature that just oozed sexuality. and the miraculous abilities that appeared to satisfy that need. wishing I could ask Mary for help. followed me here. even if I’m not sure how. I get the feeling that the changes to my brain in the lab were exactly like that.” Am I talking to myself when I say that? I sure hope so. because number four is calling out to me.

and doesn’t waste much time in asking whether I want to get together in the evening.” she tells me. but I get it. I have a question about Sophie's sexual enthusiasm. The only way I can answer the question is to keep fucking her. I’m not going to masturbate — it’s obvious that I’ll get Sophie soon enough. her voice still husky. so I reply to her usage of suggestive language by telling her that I might want to talk with her for hours tonight. and says to tell you that if your folks are working at the diner. and maybe half an inch longer? I cup the palm of my free hand under my balls. her body getting all reheated every time she thought about how tight I felt inside of her. Her annunciation of the word “talk” is not very different from having her lips reach right through the phone to wrap around my dick. watching to see if she goes sex-deranged or can keep things more together. trying to measure.” “Oh! I’m… touching them…” I believe her. or later have my lopsided apartment. get to me like that again… I might become…” “Excited. No problem in the future. I’ve always had a biggish dick. I could come over right now. Engorged. I slip off my pants and underwear.” she plays along. and how you like it. I can’t stop thinking about how that felt last night. so I didn’t write it down. away from our parents with a roof over our heads. and would guess that I’ve gained an extra third or so of mass there. hoping it will glide right around her beautiful nipples like my tongue wants to do. It really was a tight fit. “Make sure you rub some adjectives on my breasts. But I want to know — has she been affected by the dream commands I aimed into her from the future? It sure seemed that way last night. “tex-tur-al”. David. I take the opportunity to inspect my equipment as she tells me how she couldn’t sleep for hours. grabbing hold of my straining cock. and that we’ll fuck like rabbits again. But here at seventeen the options are limited. but I think it’s even thicker now.” Sophie says. which means I can scratch two things off the list now.” I say. Making sure that my door is locked. I want to learn. but my penis is listening in on this conversation.” . She hisses on the line. all breathy. “God I want you in my mouth again. her need so extreme. Sophie makes a sound so delicious that I feel like I’m right there in bed with her. when I live in a college dorm. and draw out the word. She sounds drowsy. her voice all low and sexy with sleep. We need a place to be. “…some place warmer and softer than the ground beside the bay. coating her body in adjectives and rubbing them everywhere. It’s the kind of science experiment I can get enthusiastic about. with her tits so amazingly responsive. “Stiff. and it isn’t an act. “Keep telling me what you like when we’re together.*** I call Sophie. it's not so much a to-do. maybe even slipping a few adjectives inside of her. where we can find someplace private to… talk. I didn’t catch all that. If your… words. watching a finger slip into a dripping slit. I want to drive you fucking crazy…” “Sophie… Maybe you’re not aware. She’s happy to hear from me. It’s very demanding. “You don’t know… how much I’m dying to feel your words there.

the main reason why Sophie looks so good. Besides. under the same curved roof as my yesterday.” I say. but that isn’t what I’m thinking about now. “Dan’s going on a fishing trip. She only has one young waitress as help. I can see for myself that things are too busy. it’s not that. “Sophie’s pregnant?” I can’t help but laugh. Millie. My dad’s off today and he’s puttering around the house. Millie. no.” I’ve rehearsed some of it in my head.” Millie says. I think I want to go to the mall today where I might. a problem I’ll probably have to deal with for a few days. because I remember how hot she was for a deck. “Shoot. “It’s really urgent. In less than fifteen minutes a thirty-ish woman arrives to spell her. much younger than the version who helped me out in a time that hasn’t happened yet. Somehow.“This evening. She was still a fine-looking woman in the future. and then how she lost any interest after Dan passed. She whispers.” Her eyes tell me she’s acquiesced. has an ailing mother in a nursing home… Can’t remember her name. and it truly is a crowd compared to seven years from now. “I could be convinced to tell you where if you mow my lawn and promise to build that deck on the back of the house. “Can you carve out ten minutes?” Her eyes dance around the diner — it’s the late breakfast crowd. or… Millie. We have to have this conversation now. although she doesn’t look happy about it. Just ten minutes. because I suddenly remember a detail from this day.” she repeats. I’ve been wondering whether she might be able to sense that her daughter and I hooked up last night. I don’t know how else to put it.” Her eyes narrow. and here she’s telling me that she thinks we’ve been at it for weeks or months. “No. but nothing ever sounds right. I take a seat in the most private booth available and she uses the black phone behind the counter — no cell yet — to call for back up. with Millie looking spooky-wonderful. “I’m here because I need to talk with you. and I think he leaves tomorrow.” I begin. It feels so strange being here. Today is Saturday. Either I have to confront him. . I promise. I know that woman. sitting across with a cup of hot tea warming her hands.” Definitely a gifted tease. early Sunday morning. Dan got brand new boat shoes — they were on his body when he was found — and some other things for his overnight fishing trip.” she says in way of greeting. She’ll increase the sexiness of whatever she chooses. try to head him off somehow. “I’ll make it worth the wait. putting about fifty hash brown orders of determination in my voice. browse Victoria’s Secret to see what I see.” I probably wince. And Millie it is. It can’t happen. and she’s going to put me off until later. only now I see how losing Dan aged her a bit extra. *** “Sophie’s out shopping. oh I don’t know. Please. “This had better be damned important. She looks really good here.

So you came to the right place. no.” she finally says. In fact. to have blind faith that I know what I’m talking about. because it has tragedy written all over it. “Your coins!” I blurt out. “No. silently probing. Leaves tomorrow morning. and…” “Jesus! How do you know that?” . I… can’t explain it any better than that. and the only way to do that is to just trust me.” “You have to stop him. I just… I just know. this is crazy”. You just have to trust me on this. and not let Dan get on that boat. and I know how Soph feels about you. “Dan will listen to me. the boat shouldn’t go out at all. so why wouldn’t she answer like that? “David. only they can’t see that it’s there. and what do I do when she simply replies.“That’s right. David?” “Just that Dan can’t go on that trip. because I always win. “Somebody did something to Phil’s boat? What do you know. Only there won’t be any swelling string accompaniment to pull at her heart. That’s why I’m here. and I’d just like to see you try to stop him. He’ll listen to you. she and Dan together. with the right idea. and I try to let everything I know rise onto the surface of my face somehow. Millie. She glances sideways to see whether anyone is listening to what we’re talking about. In some ways it’s a great and impassioned speech in my mind. and how I was always afraid to do it. or. “I won’t lift a finger until you tell me how you think you know this thing you can’t tell me”. her hands on the table like she’s about to get up.” “You can’t let him get on that boat. Millie. And Millie is a sensible woman. But just coming at me with this… this… request… I don’t know what to make of it.” The friendly eyes go wary. suitable for cinema. Only… why should I listen to you? I really like you David — we've always been close. “He’d put up a hell of a fight but I’d win. hoping all to hell like she can pluck the truth out of my flesh on some unseen I Ching frequency or whatever. because you’ll trust your coins! Just do a reading on…” “How do you know about that?” she asks.” “Dan and Phil Wheeler have had this fishing thing planned for weeks. “Did you and Sophie…” “No. her voice hard and low. She needs to cross it right now. You have that little box with the coins your mother gave you. “You don’t have to take my word for it. You have to. the words present almost before the thought is. I’m afraid I can’t…” she’s beginning to say.” “Why not?” “You just can’t. I really don’t. Dan’s going. I have this idea that I can tell her that she’s standing in front of a bridge right now. then.” This is where I rehearsed — never to my satisfaction — some kind of rambling monologue about whether she remembers how I used to have dreams about crossing a bridge.” She looks deep into me.

and fill the afternoon by brainstorming on a place where Sophie and I might be able to go at each other without getting cold or bitten. I feel all charged. I’m guessing that she never told people back now about her mom passing those coins to her. and there’s nothing to do but double-down. and all the stories he’s told about his grown kids. You’re in one. the history of the hardware store’s founding. Doesn't do it for me.” I say. and I might be able to work out some sort of yard work deal with Bill. then trust your coins. “Not one more word about it. I know you only do a reading when somebody is in a true emergency situation. Without being too obvious.” she says. occasionally renting a cabin through sweat equity. You just have to…” “Now listen here — I don’t play around with this stuff. because the word would get around. and in about forty minute's time I'm the newly adopted sort-of son/grandson. I’m anxious about Millie and Dan. We strike a deal where I’ll provide free carpentry work on the unfinished upstairs apartment — my apartment — in exchange for being able to use it every now and then as my totally informal love shack. I get this inspired idea — unless it’s more crazy than inspired — which leads me into the city. David. with an expression suffused with so many contradictory things that it begins to hurt and I have to look away.” “I… promise. and it feels kind of like sacred space belonging to Mary. You promise me that. not anyone ever. or she thinks I’ve spied on a hidden diary or something. It’s a very serious business to me. They’ll show you. I’ve either failed. I open my mouth and she shakes her head vigorously. Hope to die. and when I bring my focus back to Millie. They’ll help you. and scared. Mr. only you don’t know it. but I know him. I use my wealth of biographical leverage to establish one of those instant connections that rarely happens. “Millie. Just staring. “Not to Dan. Can we just go that far? If you can’t trust me enough. wishing she hadn’t put it that way. . or sex with Mary. his collection of rare baseball cards. not to Sophie. as though I know they won’t mislead.” “But…” “You promise me that. she’s already pushing out of the seat. Thinking outside the box. or placed Dan’s life in the roll of three coins. which I don’t. and I don’t… I can’t believe we’re…” She’s turning red. Bill Perkins' cabins come to mind — cabin three served me beautifully in the future. David Sand. almost looking like she could take her teacup and smack my head with it. showing me that our conversation is over.“I can’t tell. because the next seven hours pass like they’re seventy-seven. so what I’ve said just doesn’t compute. where I have a totally strange encounter with my future landlord. I’m deep into it. He doesn’t know me for boo. the time he met Cal Ripken. shutting me up. *** Time must be malleable. Johnson.” She’s staring at me. And that’s the end of it.

which will have to do for tonight. which they’ll be doing much less of fairly soon. I was going to pick up Sophie at eight. dimples deepening. “I don’t even know if I want to go back home tonight. All this anxiety is amplified. the way he’d suddenly change. Probably. When I was a kid I thought mom must practice voodoo on him. because my nerves are in that state where they pretty much believe I’m going to make love with a really hot girl later in the night. So I picture my parents going at each other in bed. I’m sure he’ll love me for that. and tells me she’s coming to get me instead. maybe hit him with a baseball bat or something. Back home I shower. she's pretty fucking hot. “Is it too gross to think about your parents having sex?” I get a mental picture of Millie as she is now… Truth is. but she calls ahead of time.” she speaks in hushed tones into the phone.” “Any chance he’ll ignore her. I’ll have to go down to the launch in the morning and… I don’t know. they disappear for hours. I pick out some sheets with Navajo-like symmetrical designs in rust and black. opening all the windows as I sweep to let the wind carry the dust where it will. She doesn’t play fair. I’m lucky in that the bathroom fixtures work.” “What ways?” Sophie laughs. is all. My bedroom is filled with carpentry debris and piping. although I’m not really sure until after our first passionate kiss inside Sophie’s car. It’s understandable — the testicles I soap and rinse are far too big. even though he’s been looking forward to it for weeks. She has this box hidden at the back of her bedroom closet. touring the space I know so well in its half-finished state. “I’ve got to get out of here!” I take it as a good sign. The kitchen is nonexistent. not a bit of privacy. . along with a small table and some candles. “My dad bought all this new fishing gear today. Anyway. the electricity not yet going. or her mother’s coins. And I might be — it all depends on Millie. of controlling him. and I still don’t know whether Dan is planning to get on that boat. or the whims of whatever mystical things drive readings like that. I buy a futon mattress from an incense-filled store that won’t be on this block in a few years. filled with little outfits and… things. even if the bathroom itself is nothing but wood studs with a ceiling and raw floor. She has these… these ways. and I clear it all away. especially when he learns I’m also boning his beautiful daughter.” she begins. feeling kind of edgy. She’d probably die if she knew I knew about it.It’s a real kick. “Maybe. If he is. She was. but it’s relatively clean. and just do it?” “Nope. She won’t let him. and when he got home my mom came at him like four days of fishing is no different than going to Las Vegas to screw a bunch of bellydancers or something. All the mismatched windows are already in place. I think she… She’s probably good in bed. whenever they get too angry with each other. and afterwards my dad’s like a sleepwalker with a cartoon grin drawn on his face. Anyway. and the effect in the primitive bedroom is construction-nouvea with a New-Age Spartan twist. “My mom and dad are having a terrible row.” “You might have noticed that my mom is still a good-looking woman. with several of the crooked walls blocked in with two-by-four studs and occasionally some unfinished drywall. When I’m finished the space is not at all presentable. like… demonic!” “So is your dad still going?” “No way.

making them glisten. With her naked body a pale yellow-orange shape writhing on the Navajo background of the sheets. *** I give Sophie the candlelight tour through our very own slice of crooked construction privacy. I search for a way of blending our desires by smearing her boobs with her juices.” “I feel like I just might be the luckiest guy in the world. because I was always The One for them. With the manipulation of her tits producing the same kind of effect as the night before.” “You are. She might not have even realized it. and I’m going to learn how to do that. reaching over to give my cock a too-hard squeeze.it’s safe to say they won’t notice how late I come in tonight. She giggles when she sees the futon set up on the floor. and guiding her into fucking my cock with her tits. With you. to see whether that knocks the silly questions out of her head. Only I think I just added a new one. too. arms and legs thrashing.” I can cross Dan off my list. her vocal chords stressing. I’m just going to slip my hands under her blouse and start pinching her nipples. Goad Sophie when it comes to sex. Sophie comes. It could be that these very fine breasts were always itching to be fondled by me. because if I got bigger balls somehow. “Are you challenging me? Because if you are…” “You’ll what?” “Tell me where to drive and I’ll show you what. Because she wants to fall for it. There is an addictive element in having a girlfriend who can come just from having her beautiful breasts manhandled enough. “Then you must believe you can keep up with me. I like the . Sophie has enough up top to do it. Because she’ll fall for it. afraid that someone will call the police. Either that or my dream commands leaped back into time right along with me. I will think it’s the latter. because in my mind I see: 16. gifting this girl with nipples so sensitive to my touch that I can send her into a convulsive orgasmic state just by going at them hard enough. asking how on earth I came across the place. It does. their thrilling texture defined by the wavering light of the candles.” “That’s bullshit. I want to think it’s the latter. so when I have her in a more breathless condition I take a moment to lower the windows I have partway opened. We could use more lubricant… And I've no sooner had the thought when she directs me to get the baby oil from the bag she brought along. too.” the full lips confirm. why couldn’t Sophie end up with nuclear nipples? I send them into critical mass almost entirely with my tongue. but with some side pressure from her hands.” “I think I might envy them. I’ve seen how much power a woman can wield from knowing how to turn a man to jelly in bed. I don’t think she’s even sure where she is after a couple of minutes.” “You fucker!” she laughs. I decide that rather than concoct some white lie. Thankfully it’s a cool night.

but I have the sense that I’m repairing the future somehow. and my last . It's hard to say which of us enjoys this more — she has two tits to my one dick. Sophie coming again and again as my fingers twist and pull at her nipples. I’m yours. whereas I explode right where we're fucking. and gets me driving my dick inside her pussy. Barely able to speak. When she returns to the bed. I might have liked it. Sophie smears my cum into the mix. my big cock gliding inside of cleavage made all slick and shiny. I didn’t think of it like this when I finagled my way back into this shell of an apartment. then takes my wrist to pull my finger out. her gorgeous young late bloomer of a body accepting my cock again and again. not in that way. I can’t help thinking that she looks like a blonde angel of sex to Mary’s dark one. ripping me into the most forceful coming of the night. telling me she’ll be right back. making her soft flesh even slipperier. panting. They might have liked it. morphing again into deep satisfied gasps. telling her that she’s getting everything backward. amazed by the grip. and it’s a slow smooth glide inside. We detour a bit as I dine on the breasts so scrumptiously displayed. and we just keep going. I’m yours. Nothing is out of bounds… if it turns you on. hearing “Oh God Yes! Yes!” repeated at full volume. I’m yours…” I could tease her. Pretending that I can’t see her every movement in the next room. deep-milking her supernaturally sensitive tits as we rock below. and this fallen angel has a tube of thicker lubricant in her hand. David. she slips her legs into black fishnet stockings. panting into the night sounds of the city. though. I just love the bubbly shape of this girl's ass. thoughts fluttering without direction from the present to a future that feels like the past. smiling open-mouthed while staring up at that familiar — to me — crooked ceiling. I had a couple of awful breaking-up fights with Sharon in this very room. to try. but she comes elsewhere. her ass smacking hard. her torso wrapped inside a waist-scrunching corset with sinful undercups that lift her tits into two milky-fleshed meals. reeling. and we just lie there together. I blow out the candles and we lie there spooned together. this night of nearmiracle tightness and breathless cries. the tit-fucking faster and harder. I like it even more when we resume the tit-fuck.way my girlfriend thinks ahead. A cautious rocking minute of experimentation morphs into a harder boob-swaying rhythm. “Anything. this exquisite girl I never got to fuck nearly mindless with hard-assed fucking come true. Oh God. “I mean that. offering herself to me. arching her body so my finger slides in of itself.” Sophie whispers. then slides with deliberate craft to her anus. and then she’s on all fours with her back arched. I’m the one who’s supposed to be expressing that kind of devotion. standing. me coming again from the glorious bouncing boob-job.” she adds. my front absorbing Sophie’s warmth. sucking it. pulling them out and twisting. going at each other until our hormones are eventually placated. Sophie uttering drawn out moans and surprised gasps with only half of my cock spreading her open. applying just a bit of pressure. with an index finger that wets itself inside her pussy. back. which gets her screaming again. She gasps some. my hands wrapping around to compress her tits. taking her sex-condiment bag with her. that if she’s going to be the expert she seems to think her mother is. getting it all wet. “Because I’ll do anything you want. and getting Sophie primed. fucking it. By candlelight I watch her duck between studs. I do tease her. I probe. In time she draws me to her body. I could never get Sharon or my other smattering of future girlfriends to go there. front. only I don’t even know. passion turned to exhaustion. I don’t skimp on the jelly when I'm ready. breathy urging to go faster and harder. which lull us towards sleep. “I thought even more ahead.” she grins. Sophie hoarsely asks what I’d like next. digging into the flesh around her nipples. It isn’t a moment to tease her.

It could be fun to do some crazy things I never really considered before — a road trip across the country. Too much history here. we both know that. but so far I can’t see where she’ll end up in a straightjacket. I don’t even think I could have sculpted a wonder of womanhood like that. 3… Rather. sometimes mistaking Sophie’s warmth for the touch of Mary’s body. I can do things better. but only when we’re fucking. That one reads: Do not stress over successfully altering the future. I typed them out as 2/1. I might have an altered destiny. 2/2. I’ve been here just one day. Sophie can go crazy-horny. I’ve already taken some second chances. and Sophie’s entire family has a different destiny. No one woman will ever be enough. awake with my body all sex-relaxed. Yeah. 2/3. I think it must be that I was preoccupied with the idea of second chances. sigh. 2. *** I stare at the list glowing eerily on my computer screen. and my motorcycle. and what do I willingly let go of? I could give up living in this apartment again. which I have mixed feelings about. I suppose things could change. my eyes stopping at 2/6. without shedding too many tears. because I don’t even know one of the women yet. and if I had the money to do something different. too. and the cops. can maybe even make some things better. What I don’t remember is drawing the little symbol that follows. perhaps. and three deranged women whose minds had become like something out of an X-rated Invasion of the Hormone Snatchers film. I skim down and see that I drew the same thing after 2/14: Find Mary Poole. I suppose — whether to feel nostalgic for some experience already lived. I’m being given a second chance. just like I never asked to have my brain tinkered with. Unless all the rules don’t apply. in this younger body… At the same time. of a snake eating its tail. anyway. Just as long as I get my cameras back. Because there is no Sophmary Morapoole.m.moments in this space involved blood. we do. I didn’t ask to be a teen again. why wouldn’t I try that? I’ll have to examine those feelings often. I skim my notes. which seems like a very good thing. . I sigh a two a. I remember writing that. for instance. so why can’t I remember the reasons behind the strange numbering system? The numbers aren’t the typical 1. I wrote it up just today. It looks like that from my perspective. which is socially and ethically problematic. too. Which things are important to hang onto. I’m not completely comfortable with being here in this time. some things are non-negotiable. I can see where every day that passes will take me farther away from a replay of events just as they happened before. so I made the numbers reflect that. I’m in love with two women. or an extended trip to France. or preparing to fuck. or whether to strike out in a new direction to see where it leads. and succeeded at improving things. the same or very differently? I can kind of see her as my awareness gets more fuzzy. I mean. And Mary Poole? Would I do her again. something better. blathering to anyone about how much she needs my dick pounding into her.

which is the very last one. because I shouldn’t. I’ve drawn the snake symbol multiple times here. No snake symbol afterwards. but this one stands out because I’ve crossed through it. but the spine-chilling numbers do not sit alone. But mostly just too weak. I think. something about the second chances especially important. which makes me feel… Anxious? Determined? Scared? All of the above. . I see one item on the list I don’t remember typing in at all: 2/17. and far too small.I’m pretty sure that I added that symbol because these two things are related. I scroll down to the next one. Nothing is written afterwards. as though I changed my mind. which reads: Save my parents from splitting up. or because I can’t? Feeling uneasy. I shouldn’t keep my parents’ marriage from unraveling? Why. Checking ahead. 2/18.

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