4 comments/ 23546 views/ 2 favorites As I Remember... By: farechilde As I remember waking up: Something wasn't right with the world. It wasn't anything specific, just a bunch of little things that stacked up to a lasting feeling of unease. The sky wasn't right; it was very bright, so bright it was more white than blue. But the harshness didn't hurt my eyes or even make me squint, and it wasn't hot either. The pavement felt cold on my bare feet. I looked up, rocking on my heels, feeling an eerie chill run down my back as if someone nearby was dragging their nails down a chalkboard. But there was nobody nearby. There wasn't even a single car lined up against the yellow curb I was balancing on. That was very strange. I couldn't recognize this part of the city; the buildings around me were tall enough to hide all the familiar scraps of skyline. All I knew was that I didn't belong. It was more of a feeling than anything else, a sink hole of loneliness and confusion. I turned to look around at the strip of stores lined up behind me like glass dominoes. They were all perfectly spaced apart from each other and their glass fronts were all the exact shade of crystal blue. Their signs were generically identical too. I heard the city as a muted growl, as if I were listening to it from the deep end of a diving pool. My eye twitched. My neck itched. My palms tingled. I stepped down from the curb and walked into the middle of the road. I didn't know where my shoes had gone. There was a huge blue bruise growing like a steroid-fed amoeba up the side of my thigh. I couldn't feel it and I couldn't remember where it came from. My cell phone is missing too. The shorts were mine, but they weren't the same ones I had put on this morning. I walked. I walked down the street and around the corner; my eyes drifting hazily over the deserted cityscape. I rounded a corner and stopped to a teeter on the curb. I wiggled my toes in the air over the gutter; it was the same curb I had been perched on only minutes before. Something was very wrong with the world indeed. I sat, clasping my hands around my shins and resting my chin on my knees. Something inside me knew that I would always end up in this same spot no matter how far I walked. There was now a garbage can beside me that hadn't been there a moment ago. It didn't seem out of place, I thought, it should have been there all along and I grew bitter at it for being late. "Hello." I said to it. It looked back at me with a mesh smile and an empty belly. "Hello." "What's happening?" It didn't make any gestures but I got the strong sense it somehow was shrugging at me. "Don't ask me." "Fine." I debated getting up and walking again. Maybe I would try a store to find a working telephone or internet connection. Maybe this was the rapture my dad had always preached about. Maybe this was just a bad reaction to some drugs I didn't remember taking. I got up and patted the head of the unhelpful garbage can before I walked away. I tried a door. It opened but there wasn't anything inside the store. There wasn't even concrete on the floor. Just dirt. There was a large rectangular hole half dug in the middle but there was no sign of a shovel. The dirt was perfectly smooth and mine were the only footprints. I could see a door along the far wall and I walked to it and opened it slowly. The street was outside. "Hello." The garbage can said, looking over his shoulder. I shook my head and closed the door. The room was too dark, just like outside was too bright. But it all felt the same to me. I could see perfectly without the light. I didn't know what I should have been doing so I laid in the dirt in the corner and fell asleep. Maybe the drugs would wear off when I woke up. "Hey, Clive..." I felt something soft pinch my arm and it chased away the fog of sleep. "Clive, you can't be here." I sat up and looked around. I was in the middle of the street again; my chin was resting on the cracked yellow line. My feet were still bare but the ugly bruise had gone and there were now people everywhere, walking in random, useless patters up and down the sidewalk. They looked choreographed, but it was a dance with no end. They weren't going anywhere. They were all carrying empty shopping bags from shopping at the empty stores. I rolled over and stood up. I couldn't see who had poked me. "Clive?" I looked at the garbage can accusingly, "What?" The garbage can [shrugged] back at me and [pointed] to where I should have been looking. I spun on my heel and found myself looking at a familiar face. She radiated a friendly, welcoming smile but I could see concern in her small hazel eyes as if she didn't quite know how to tell me something. Maybe I was bleeding from the head. "Are you okay? You're talking to a garbage can." She touched my arm and I looked at the simple action of her skin touching mine. I realize I was solid and I smiled. "I know." I should have felt weird for talking to her. But I didn't. She made me feel like she was an old friend, completely trustworthy and unthreatening. "Come over to the side walk, there's a bench to sit on." "Do we know each other?" I asked as we walked. She took my arm with one of hers and touched my shoulder with her other hand. Her hair was sparkling and the loose curls skimmed the tops of her bare shoulders. She was wearing the same shorts as I was, but they were cinched very tight to fit around her narrow waist. They hung so low on her hips I could see where her thighs started to form just under her waist. She wasn't wearing the same shirt as me, but I recognized it as my own. I let her sit first. "Yes, hun. We do. Summer. Summer Glau." "Summer Glau." I repeated her name slowly. Then I repeated it again and it felt firmer and truer in my mouth. "I don't remember talking to you before." "Don't be silly. You know everyone here." I raised my eyebrows and looked past Summer down the sidewalk. She was right, I did know everyone. A couple of the faces I recognized as girls from my school. Some were actresses. Some I only remembered from seeing in glossy magazine spreads. "They're all girls." "Women," Summer corrected me, sitting with me on the bench. "He didn't want you to see any men here. That might confuse you." I chuckled, "That's generous. Who is 'he'?" "Him." Summer shrugged, patting my forearm innocently. "Don't worry about it." I bunched up my eyebrows and frowned. "Why are you here?" "To help you, Clive. We all are." A large, reliable smile grew across her face and I couldn't help but feel calmer. "I know things are glitchy right now, some things take a while to get working properly. He threw this all together in very little time. Do you blame him?" "I guess not," I shrugged. I didn't know who I could blame for this. "How does this work?" Summer looked relieved I had asked that question, "I'm glad you asked." "Me too, it felt good, like scraping off dead skin. I just felt better for doing it." "Hun, that's gross." Summer's nose crinkled a little. "I can't help it. Things are giving me strange emotions. The sky makes me mellow and your toes make me flirty and that garbage can makes me bitter." "Flirty?" She giggled, wiggling them, "I'm sure that will pass. This place takes some practice." I stared at her toes and saw sunlight glint of the glazed nails. She had perfect nails. "Please stop," I said, touching her toes with mine to stop the wiggling. "Oh," she pouted, "Why? There's nothing else to do." "Nothing?" The word felt heavy coming out. "Nothing." I squinted into the street. Every woman who was nearby had stopped, their empty bags swayed a little in a breeze. There must have been thirty or forty of them and they were all looking at Summer and me. "If I figure this place out do I get to leave?" "No, it's not like that. You're here for a reason." Summer explained. She had trapped my toes with her other foot and she was leaning against me now. My bicep was pressed in her cleavage. It felt great and she didn't seem to mind being pasted onto me, "you'll leave when it's time." I knew it would be pointless to ask when that time would be. I looked at that odd little birth mark at the thin end of her eyebrow, just a little ways from her temple. It somehow calmed me. "Oh come on, it isn't that bad!" Summer playfully slapped my knee. "Why are you touching me like this?" I asked. She looked hurt for a second and then her soft, wide smile returned like that of a teacher's pet with the right answer. "Oh my god, you're such a gentleman." She looked out to the statuesque women standing all around us. "He hasn't figured it out yet." "What?" I was starting to get impatient. "We're here so you can fuck us." I blinked. There was a feeling of immense genuineness in her expression. Her eyes could not have lied to me...they were too bright and friendly. "That's why there are no men." "Right." "But why are you wearing my clothes?" "It's all that was in my closet this morning. If there had been something sexier there I would have worn that instead." I wasn't insulted by her comment, but I did disagree. "I think it's incredibly sexy. Stunning." "Really, you think?" she asked, twirling a strand of her maple-coloured hair between her fingers, "Does it make you want to touch me?" "Yes." "Then touch me," she said, pulling down the neckline of her tank with a middle finger. Her lips were dangerously close to my neck and I could feel her hot breath mist over my skin. "This is wrong. This is seems like some twelve year-olds wet dream fantasy." "That's exactly right. That's why he thought it would work for you." "Why? I'm not a horny teenager." "No," she shook her head, "But that doesn't have to stop us." It felt too complicated. I couldn't absorb the idea of fucking Summer Glau or any others from the hoard of pretty faces. They all wore expressions of suspense, as if my next words would seal their fate. It was easier to deal with the talking garbage can. "What if I don't want to?" "Then I guess you won't have to. But there is nothing else to do. At least, not yet. Maybe later he will make some improvements. But trust me; you don't want that to happen." "Why?" "It means bad things," a voice in the crowd spoke up. I flipped my eyes around, searching for the voice. I had recognized it instantly and when I saw her I was intrigued. "Catherine Bell." I said, standing. "Yes?" She brushed past that red-haired control freak from Desperate Housewives and stepped up on the curb. "Can you help me solve this mystery?" I asked her. Her large, brown eyes looked sad for me. She slowly shook her head. "None of us can," Summer explained in a soothing tone. But the comfort in her words was lost on me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run across the asphalt and back into reality. I wanted this high to end, no matter how titillating it promised to be. A whisper of a breeze came and tugged on the hem of the pale blue sundress Catherine was wearing, flipping it up enough to expose the smooth skin above her knees. She was bare foot, just like everyone else I could see. Her hair was very long and dark, almost midnight-black and the wind was busy blowing it across her face and bare shoulders. I knew the dress didn't belong to me, which meant that things were slowly developing. This world seemed to develop like a computer program: adapting and re-writing itself to become more unique with only the smallest amount of input. "You're not real, Catherine." I said. "I can touch you," she argued, "I can feel you. You can taste me, hear me, smell me and see me. What more could you want?" She had me. Everything about her, right down to her eager, pleading expression worked in concert to make her argument clear. Those eyes were so darling; wide and bright and wonderfully kind. They made me think she was the person I could tell all my dark secrets too. They were the shade of sun-bleached walnut. Her breasts were perfect for that dress too; they seem to be on the verge of spilling out of that plunging v-neck. She looked so good she could have stopped a tidal wave with a smile. "I've had a thing for you. For a long time." I admitted. I could practically hear all the women on the street relax; especially Catherine. "Well," she smiled, "You're a bright man, I'm sure you can figure out what to do with me." I liked the way she called me a man, even though I'm only eighteen. I know I didn't look very much like a man. Outside this strange world she wouldn't have cast me a second glance. But here...here was different. Fuck, she is practically begging to spread her legs for me. "Should I fuck you here on the sidewalk?" I ask with a chuckle, sitting back down on the bench and draping my arm around Summer. Catherin didn't even blink an eye. I began to think that they wouldn't view the other women as competition, or if they did they have the civility not to display it. "I'd prefer you didn't," Catherine's smile was genuinely flirtatious, "but if that is what you want..." I shrugged, "Naw. Is there a park nearby?" "There could be," Summer smiled. She kissed my bicep, and I looked down at her mouth. The kiss felt weird, like it had been air-mailed in from another country. I could hardly feel it. "All you need to do is think of one and it will be there...here. Whatever." "Really?" I asked, "That's how this works?" "Uh-huh." Catherine offered her hand, palm up, "Let's go. I'd be happy to be your first." I took her hand and stood, leaving Summer. I pulled Catherine close and she melted against me as if we were slow dancing. She fit so well in my arms, her height was perfect for me. Our noses touched and our eyes locked onto each other. "What if I want you to be my only?" I spoke softly, my lips grazed hers. I could feel the heavy mass of her hair blowing against my neck and it felt hotter than the sun and the asphalt. It was strangely comforting. It made her seem more real. She pulled back, her long neck straining with thin cords of muscle. Her smile couldn't have been bigger, "I wouldn't complain, Clive. But I doubt you'll be satisfied with me; not when there are so many women here." "I could be here forever, right?" "I hope not." I frowned. These women knew something and their guise as willing lovers couldn't hide it any more that a mini-cooper could seat an elephant. "Have fun, hun," Summer said, standing up off the bench. "We'll be around when you want us." She flipped me a wave and walked into a store. The rest of the women on the street begin walking away too. Soon it was only Catherine and I left on the dream street. "You do feel real," I said, touching the small of her back. I could feel the hard base of her spine end in the soft valley of her ass crack. "Of course I do." She hugged me tightly. Her fingers trickled down the back of my neck, eliciting warm feelings of arousal. "I like you better with short hair though," I had to say. "You're one of the few women in Hollywood who can pull it off." "Short hair," Catherine nodded slightly. She pulled away from me and raises her palms up, placing them over my eyes. "All you have to do is ask." I asked, politely, and she slowly pulled her hands down, revealing her newly shortened hair. I blinked, but I wasn't startled. Not only was it shorter but it was also a lighter shade of brown, lightly feathered and fanned out. She looked ready for a photo-shoot. Her face is freshly coloured as well. Her lashes had thickened and became dark and flirty. Her lips were a new shade of glossy pink. "Gorgeous," I breathed. "You're getting good at this," she said, pressing her mouth against my neck. Her hand was drifting lightly across my abdomen, threatening to graze my crotch. "Take me to the park now." Her kiss felt more immediate than Summer's had. I could feel some wetness and pressure, even some suction. "I have more questions," I said, "They just keep piling up in me faster than I can answer them." Catherine shushed me with a finger and shook her head, "Not right now." I stop talking to taste her finger. My lips wrapped around her nail and I sucked her in past the second knuckle. I could taste the salt on her and feel her fingerprint on my tongue. Her eyes closed as I suckled and I smiled widely, catching her finger with my teeth. She slid her middle finger against my lips and I kissed it before letting her loose. We began walking then, and I took her hand in mine, entwining our fingers like lovers. I must be smiling stupidly because she laughed and touched my cheek with her free hand. "You look like you've died and gone to heaven," she says. "Haven't I?" I asked with a morbid chuckle. This time she answered me with plain, unhindered gravity. "Not yet, no." As I remember fucking Catherine Bell: Where the street turned back onto itself we now found a sprawling park. There was colourful playground equipment set up in huge sand bunkers and the sun glinted sharply off of them. The grass was soft and blanketed everything in sight except for the sand and the trees. It looked surreally beautiful and comfortable. There was enough to look at there; it wasn't bland like the street with the identical stores. At the entrance to the park there were two wooden columns and a connecting archway between them. The archway was thick and carved with a name. "Madison." I read it aloud. "Do you know her?" "No." Catherine frowned. My eyes lingered on the full pout of her lips and the way they cut so sexily across her jaw. I could have made a meal out of them. "Do I know her?" "No." Catherine let go of my hand and used her thumbs to pull up at the shoulder straps of her dress, raising it over her head. In a breath she was gloriously nude. Thoughts of the archway vaporized from my mind and with a girlish giggle Catherine tossed the sundress over my face. "Hey," I smiled, tasting fabric, "Now I can't see you!" "Can you feel me?" I did. I felt her hand knife up the inside of my thigh, grabbing a fistful of my package. "Mmhmm." I groaned. She pulled her dress from my face to kiss me. I could really taste her. It still felt a little wrong though, like a cheap knockoff of what a great kiss would taste like, but the base flavour of heat and saliva was a good start. It was as if the world was putting together sensations from scratch. She rained kisses on my face and after a moment or two I could taste her more. I feel the texture of her lips and taste buds rubbing against mine as she frenched me deeply. Her body was burning up; I could feel the spike of her heat through my clothes. Heat seems to be a sensation this world could do very well. While she frenched me her hands loosened my waistband and pushed my shorts down over the curve of my ass. Then she pushed her hands underneath my shirt and explored upwards. I lifted my hands and she removed my shirt for me, and then pressed her hungry mouth hotly on my chest. "What would you like from me?" she asked, speaking to the soft skin, "I can do anything. I took both her hands in mine and held them lightly. "Don't be afraid. I'm not made of glass." She squeezed me tightly to demonstrate. My eyes must have looked blank to her because she laughed and pecked me playfully on the lips. "I'm going over there, to that half buried tractor tire. I'm going to lay on it and wait for you." I let her go and watched her walk across the grass and into the sand pit. Her bare feet made perfect imprints, which didn't make sense. The sand was dry and should have fallen back on itself, making uneven craters, not perfect imprints. She reached up to grab hold of the thick treads of the tire and climbed up it until she was balancing on top. She perched there, waiting; looking at me. As I Remember It The way I remember it may diverge from reality but the memory is so strong that I cannot help but relate it here to you. A remembrance that needs to be shared. If it was not as written here, excuse the differences but know that the thoughts of it as shown are as real as the encounter. The invitation to dine and enjoy one another's company was hardly unexpected. We had done as before and even enjoyed out time in one particular restaurant outing far more than the menu would have allowed. Still, the anticipation that crept over me as I approached your door tightened my stomach and caused excitement in my loins just as I rang the bell. Certainly that was what caused the next events – my sudden forwardness and what followed. Although, as a willing participant I suppose there was notable contribution on your part as well. It was when you opened the door and stood, half hidden behind it to allow for this large-framed human to enter that the cautions started to blow out that same door on the wind from inside you chamber. Your dress, that wonderful covering that revealed not so much skin as to be instantly arousing revealed your shape. That's all I needed. The first full surge of blood into my loins rushed at once. Could you notice by my somewhat shuffling gait upon entrance? Perhaps not. You turned and explained that you would just be a moment and turned to retrieve your other items for the evening. I caught your elbow – the first contact with your skin sending electricity through me as though the live wires of your nervous system were grounded to this moment. I simply turned you and pulled you closer, gently. Your look, I recall, was a mixture of delight and curiosity. Slipping my arm about your waist and drawing you near as you slid your arms up my chest and over my shoulders in warm embrace started our dance. As I lowered my head to kiss you I wondered for just an instant how far you had to reach onto your toes to affect the action. As our mouths came together it was you're the taste of your lips that caused the sudden "jump" in my crotch that I wondered if you felt. Pulling you closer to me as we kissed – first casually, then more fully but not fully passion-ridden, I could feel the heat of you coming through that dress. As our lips parted to gaze and gauge our mutual reactions your hips seemed to move forward, or at least that was my desire, and rested so very comfortably against mine. So there I stood, knees bent, head bowed in order to be close to the desirous mouth of yours and to look into your eyes. You kept your ballet posture – thankfully not being fully on-point – as you returned a longing glance. Speaking volumes with your eyes alone. It was your smile that made me move next to the actions that ensued. There I saw a wickedness and delight. Your lips curled just in a fashion that said to me that here was what I wanted and that the want would not be deferred. Was that anticipation I saw as well? My memories say yes. I placed my hands then at your waist and encouraged you to lower your feet. Standing in your shoes as opposed to off of the heels. Once grounded again, it was those hands of mine again – moving of their own will that pursued the goals of the entrance. They rode up the sides of your dress – gauzy as it was still feeling like a full wall between them and the desired aspects of you. Trying to be coy, I admit now, I allowed my thumbs to run alongside your breasts – finding out what other materials were between them and you. Pushing them along the sides of them and then lightly touching just the outer aspects of where your nipples begin. What magic that touch brought. As though a start button had been pressed I noted that you immediately slipped out of your shoes. Yes, now you were decidedly less proximal to my mouth but that just meant my leaning more and bending more to fully enclose your mouth with mine. It also meant that my hips had to move harder into you. The next sequence was almost teenage in action. One hand moving to your ass and not quite gripping it, but holding it, lifting your hips to me. The other hand now behaving as if we were in some high-school prom party moving fully onto one very clothed breast. Still I could feel that erect nipple forcing its way forward to be touched, I thought. Not without skills are these fingers of mine, as you've come to know, and that hand at your ass ran immediately to assess the bindings of the first layer of resistance between you and me. The zipper came down almost as if gravity had increased – though we know it was my pulling that accomplished the task. Returning to the top of the garment, the hook there was loosed in an instant and then that same hand could feel the skin of your back directly as it parted the gown. To be sure it was my front hand that kept your dress in place as long as it did. Clutching your breast and the material over it. This while now kissing you so deeply and pressing my hardening member through gabardine and tricot toward you. You are the sly one and the one with sufficient resistance to the action to recognize the obvious. You pushed just slightly away from my clutches and then stood before me. A simple shrug of the shoulders and your dress was gravity's slave and on the floor. I took the opportunity, you'll recall, to discard my sport coat and began unbuttoning my shirt as I stared at you in your slip and stockings. However, it was your hands at work that loosed the remaining buttons and your hands that slipped my shirt away. It was also your hands that drew back over my chest and down my belly to work at the belt while I hop-footed out of my loafers. We moved from the piling laundry in the foyer and you, pulling at the top of my underwear to lead, were the guide. I could not help it, in explanation now, I wanted to feel you closer. That's why we paused before entering the bedroom and why I removed your slip just outside the door. I was surprised only mildly that there was not a brassiere in place beneath. There was some planning on your part for ease of access I assumed. I just wanted your flesh pressed against mine. That's why I wrapped you in my arms and pulled you closer. What I didn't realize at the time, my hands occupied with feeling the skin beneath my fingertips, my mouth engaged with yours, that your hands were busy as well. It was only when I felt your hand brush against my now bare ass that I knew you had pulled the underwear down. There was no way no to notice those hands of yours grabbing and stroking my near-fully erect member. Your glance at it, not to mention that small chuckle escaping your lips, told me to be in your control for just a moment longer. That's why I waited to proceed until we were next to the bed. You sat and simultaneously slipped off your hose and panties. They were not going to be necessary from this point forward. I, again doing my best imitation of a circus acrobat/clown, hopped on alternating feet to get my own socks off not wishing to be cliché in the scene that followed. You were the starting point next. Yes, I realized that you wished to do otherwise at that point but my hunger was too great. That is why I loomed over you as you sat there and encouraged you to lie back – you feet still on the floor. I wanted other tastes and my desires became a bit selfish. The heat building all too rapidly now I tasted each of your breasts as I leaned over you. You, propped on your elbows watching as I nipped at the ends of each of them. Kissed them and then leading with my lips, kissed down your body to the top of your mound. Perhaps it was a bit too subservient in posture but you didn't seem to mind, when I knelt in front of you. More correctly in front of your shins since they were still vertical while the rest of you relatively horizontal. Regardless of subservience, it was my desire to spread your knees. It was my desire to run both my hands up your inner thighs simultaneously. It was a natural act to allow those hands to diverge when they reached the creases at the top where your hips are met. One continuing further up you as you watched from your propped position. The other going laterally and to your visibly wet pussy. The position being what it was, the next thing that happened was out of circumstance as much as anything else. You know well enough what some of my preferences are and this approach, as different as it was, was only intended as a temporary stopover anyway. Sure, you know all this know but you now know that this was my intention clearly at the time. With one hand now rolling an erect nipple carefully I focused my eyes on the magic place between your legs. An odd approach at first, your look was almost one of being perplexed, until – my thumb, more agile than it should be, penetrated the folds of your damp pussy lips and landed gracefully atop your clit. Even an appendage that large has some agility and it was that simple, circular rubbing there on your marvelous button that really moved things faster. I saw the change in your eyes immediately as you continued to watch. That time of watching was running out I knew from the expression you had when that thumb slipped the length of your clit downward and eased into that remarkably wet entrance of yours. Probing. I know you didn't mind when I moved my upper hand to the opposite breast – no sense in one being neglected. I also know you didn't mind when I turned the lower hand palm up and slid my middle finger deeper into you. Pressing upward with the tip until I located your slickest place inside. Finding that small area there the rubbing across your sweet spot caused you to forget about watching. You reclined fully to the feelings of having your spot rubbed and your breasts caressed, tweaked and held. I confess, it was never my intention to neglect that wonderful clit of yours and though it may have seemed like hours, it was but seconds from when you lowered your head until my tongue first probed between your pussy folds to find it. The taste of your juices driving me even wilder and now my lips closed over all that was exposed. Sucking on your lips and clit until that little mushroom emerged from its covering between my lips. This made for the most wonderful adagio atop it with my tongue. All the while my finger sliding along inside that tight canal of yours. A freighter in a small lock moving forward and back in order to effect a rising of the liquid inside. There was so much occurring so rapidly that I did not want to waste more time, but I was enjoying your taste so very much that I went too far. It was an accident. Before I knew what was happening – yes it did take some time I admit but I was distracted – you started to tremble and your first release came in a rush. Likely something to do with the combined fingering inside you and the sucking at your mini-member that was the culprit. That's why I backed off and very slowly rubbed just the edges of your spot. That's why I only occasionally licked at your swollen clit. That's why I continued though to bring you back to near the peak again. You were so compliant with these urges. What a marvelous partner you are. As the re-building continued you managed to prop yourself up again and reached with one hand to my shoulder to gain my attention. The unspoken request, my assumption actually, resulted in my standing and pulling back to seated on the edge of the bed by your delicate hands. Those hands that fell immediately to my stiff cock. The one bouncing in front of you while you assessed and smiled and then licked. The most delicate squeezing of the shaft near the head of it pushing out the precum that you daintily cleaned off. Then you ran your hands down it and held it in both while your mouth took it the remainder of it. Your lips were so very welcome around the head of it. The way your tongue flicked under it. The looks that came once in a while as you moved your head back to assess the status of both of my heads. One expressionless and the other nearly laughing with delight. As you continued to work the end of my member with your mouth and then took more of it inside you, there was little time to waste, I felt. Yes, this was as much as any man should want, but it was not what we truly wanted for ourselves in that moment. My hands in your hair ruining your preparations for public exposure that evening I guided your mouth over my cock repeatedly and then held you in place for a moment. Your look of puzzlement lasted so briefly as to be nearly a fleeting shade over your face. I needed to be inside your other entrance. You read that very well and very rapidly. Your slow recline at my urging was marvelous and your expression a reflection of my wantonness as well as your own. You lifted your legs and leaned up a bit to grasp my now throbbing cock. The position was too much and you reclined as I gripped the base of the swollen shaft to guide it where I wished it to go. Seemingly as a form of acrobatic – perched on one arm above you, the other leading my hand through the base of my cock to point the reddened head of it just so. The end of my cock pressing first against your full-swelled lips and prying your clit out again to have the tip of my "third arm" rub against it briefly. The tip of my cock nearly exploded at that contact I must reveal now. That is why I moved it lower and guided just the very tip of it inside that tight and tightening channel of delight. Holding it there for what seemed to me an eternity – just inside your opulent orifice – my pretense being allowing ourselves to settle in was exquisite torture. We moved, my arm now supporting the other half of upper body, my feet digging into the carpet to allow full leverage, your legs rising and encircling me. That's when I pushed a littler further into you. Holding again as I felt your already spasming pussy envelop this new inch of entrance. That slight withdrawal made all the never endings along the ridge at the head of my cock come totally alive. Then pressing forward further now – this time the hesitation less in time and the withdraw for the next stroke less than the forward thrust so deep into you. Your noises already beginning to emerge from deep within you. The long and slow slides on which I rode into and near out of you were wondrous. Each one a separate journey – allowing me to feel all of your muscles inside grip and pull – especially as my hips moved away from you. Your feet, now wrapped onto my back urged me forward as though to aid. Your hands above your head – arms extended as though the reach for the tip of my cock should it emerge from the top of your head. This amusing thought is the one that caused that slight laugh you heard. My mouth went to yours and my hip movements became more forceful, if not more expeditious, over the next while. Feeling your talented inner musculature work the length of my cock repeatedly was bringing me close to rapture. Another confession, after a while I tried multiplication tables mentally to delay the wonderful inevitable release. Also watching you and whatever your mental gymnastics were – seeking the expressions that come over your face as you are ready to cum. When the pace increased and we both were ready I did peek. I looked at your face closely. I watched as the passion washed over you. It started from your toes; I choose to remember, this time. Your heels digging into me. My hips lunging now into you. Your pussy gripping tighter and tighter over particularly the head of my cock as it became fully charged. I have a difficult time recalling what words I spoke just at the moment I began to spew into you from my exploding rod. I can recall your moans and other sounds – perhaps I was silent – but I think not. There was so much release in those seconds of ejection into you that nearly all sounds were distant. What I clearly remember though was your nipples grazing my chest as I arched my back forward and then rearward for each cum-laden thrust in those final moments. I loved the way they felt and remain amazed at how hard they were. I also remember most tenderly lying with you afterward. Holding you and feeling different parts of you with different parts of me. Then too I remember feeling out mingled emissions along your inner thighs as I reached there with my fingers finally. Swirling in them and spreading them further. And I remember the kisses we exchanged while we both twitched and spasmed from the afterglow of what we had concluded. That's how I remember it. So when called to task for why we had missed our dinner reservation by the maitre d', I feigned I could not reply but only beg for seating at the absurdly late hour it had become. The radiance from both of us likely gave away the cause of the delay but no matter. I don't recall much after that with the same clarity of those minutes before we left. As I Remember... She fit right in with the beauty of the park as if she was meant to be a permanent fixture or even its main attraction. Her hands were behind her back to keep her balance on the narrow tire, her large breasts thrust out into the warm, fake air. Her tits were magnificent, perfectly rounded and large, but they didn't sag, they stood up perkily but not so much as to be offensive. Her dark nipples pointed slightly upwards too. She had a body for the ages and even sitting in perfect stillness she exuded a grace I found arousing. I bet she could have gotten out of a full bathtub without making a splash. She demonstrated her grace by leaning backwards slowly. I could see her abs and thighs tighten up as she unfolded and came to rest, arms dangling down either side of the tire, just barley touching the sand. She looked stunning, like a sexy archway. Her breasts staid nice and perky too, even though they are so big they didn't immediately sag upwards to her chin. I became inspired and I walked hurriedly through the sand to stand by her side. She was only four feet or so off the ground and she reached out to snake her hand between my thighs and slide her hand up over my ass. Her palm pressed on the small of my back, pulling me close enough so she could kiss my abdomen. "If this is all a dream will I wake up with cum-soaked boxers?" Catherine made a face of disgust and shook her head. "No, Clive. It's not like that. That's gross." She squeezed my ass and I leaned down to plant a strong, upside down kiss on her tits. I felt her nipples stiffen against my lips, just as I had expected them too. They tasted great, and for a while I devoted all my attention to them. I heard and felt her moans rumble against my thigh. I was starting to make her wet. She started kissing my pelvic bone, taking control, nudging and pulling me until I was standing directly over her face. Because of the tire her head was lower than the rest of her body and it was angled perfectly for what she had in mind. "This really must be dream," I smiled, petting her jaw. "It's incredible, isn't it?" She replied, her face reflecting my emotions. She reached back over her head to pull my hips closer. My thickening cock rubbed against her forehead and nose, dabbing smears of gooey pre-cum over her angular features. She started lapping at my balls with her broad, prickly tongue. Watching her was fun. She was very beautiful and very eager. She didn't even touch my shaft, which was completely rigid and bobbing in the air, stretching out like a rocket down past her throat. Her tongue dashed boldly along the sensitive skin behind my sack, hard enough to make me tingle, soft enough to tease me. I start to throb. I was so stiff my foreskin has pulled back on its own. I don't remember by cock being so thick and long. She has such thick, pink lips... I pulled back on my hips and she took the cue to finally grab onto the head of my dick, pulling it down against pursed lips. She gave the swollen tip a sloppy, inviting kiss before opening her jaw and sucking me down... ...she really did suck me down; her hands stayed rooted on my ass. She just inhaled me. The sensation was so sharp and immediate that I shuddered without warning. I was so deep down her throat that I worried about plugging her lungs, but I knew it was stupid to think that. Even though she didn't need to breathe, she did so through her mouth and the flush of hot air quickly followed by the slap of cold air electrified my cock. She had such a beautiful face and she had the most seductive, eyes-half-closed expression. She didn't look like she was working hard, but when I tried to lean back and pull my cock from her lips I found myself stuck. Her eyes locked on mine and they seemed to taunt me, daring me to try again. I smiled, touching her face. I didn't want out. I wanted deeper. I wanted to see how much abuse these dream girls could take. I jammed my hips against her face, thrusting my throbbing cock like a lance into her throat. I pinched her nipples with my knuckles and squeezed her tits together. She gagged and gurgled noisily; spit flew out and landed on my balls and abs. She let took one hand off my ass and laced it between her golden thighs. She rubbed her clit with the flat of her palm, and then began sliding the cracks of her fingers up and down against the pearl of nerves. She moaned nosily around my dick, thrumming it like a tuning fork. I wanted to feel her throat sliding along my length so I began to pump her mouth like it was a pussy. I watched her tits bounce, I felt her slap my ass. She kept rubbing her snatch; she liked to take it fast and then slow like a biker peddling up and down small hills. Seeing Catherine touch herself reminded me of Jasmine, my first girlfriend, and how she had let me watch her finger fucked herself once. My cock throbbed with a surge of awakened energy. The vagueness of all the sexual stimulation was now completely gone and I could feel every slobbery smack and gurgled cry of pleasure. And I could feel my orgasm breaking through its cage and body-check by balls. And then I came. Like a fountain. Rivers of thick, bubbling cum jetted out of my cock and quickly filled up Catherine's stuffed cheeks. It spurted out the sides of her lips as if she were an overfilled water balloon. I pulled my pumping cock out, mortified at how I had cum so soon, and how I was drowning Catherine. Once free of her lips, my cock started to squirt cum like a firehouse all over her face, neck, tits and thighs. It splashed off her knees and careened into the sand around us. It was so thick it made perfect, gooey puddles. Her face was covered; so much so it looked like a plaster mask, disguising her angelic features. Thick rivers ran down her thighs like waterfalls to mingle with her own flowing juices as she kept rubbing her clit. "Stop!" I yelled at my cock. Instantly the squirting stopped. I was dumb-struck by the pure white glaze that covered her. It was so wet and thick...a huge puddle had formed in the hollow of her throat and it was overflowing down the sides of her neck like an infinity pool. When she opened her mouth thick ropes spread like spider webs between her lips. Her beautiful tits were drenched just as much as her face. I was horrified. "That wasn't supposed to happen," I apologized quickly, I tried to scrape some cum off her lips but was overcome by a bought of disgust. I felt like a freak show. A mutant. But Catherine wouldn't have any of that that. "Its fine, Clive," she assured me, scraping a fistful of spunk off her face and tossing it into the sand. "This was your first time. You don't have complete control." Of course it was fine. She was an imaginary girl manifesting as a Hollywood starlet. The cum was fake too, probably even the orgasm, no matter how real it all felt. I could probably have kept showering her perfect tits with cum all afternoon and never lost that orgasmic high. The sand was starting to absorb the dripping mess. "I didn't even get to fuck you." I said, watching her. "What you got today was just the filling," Catherine smiled with such an absurd degree of beauty that not even the thick, bubbling cum could dampen her allure. "When you want you can come back for the crust too, if you want." ...As I remember fucking Heidi and Halle I had the urge to bite my lip when I saw her. She was wearing one of those tank tops made of really thin fabric. Where the weave was stretched tight around her tits I could see the pale undertone of her skin and even slight rumours of her nipples. She was also wearing that gorgeous smile of hers, the one that made me want to play hop-scotch. Even though she wasn't wearing a strapless, gravity defying evening gown she looked every bit as sexy. She had a body for regular clothes, especially tight jeans like the dark pair she had on right then. Bright yellow stitching drew curvaceous lines up the side of her thighs and across her hips, growing into leafy flowers on the bubble of her ass. I don't think she could have looked ugly to me if she had tried, well, maybe if she cut her hair in ragged chunks or smeared her face with ash or told me she had a list of VD's as long as my dick. I suppose if she had a penis I would have turned away and never thought of her again, but giving the g-string tightness of her jeans I doubted she could have been smuggling any disastrous surprises. Anyways, no wig could have looked as good as her hair did at that moment. It was styled in great billowing curls that reminded me of Columbus clouds, and the whole shiny, sparkling mass of it swayed playfully as she walked. The world had changed again. I was now laying face down on a long stainless steel hot dog cart. Summer was directly beneath me, leaning against the door that would have held the sodas, had there been need for sodas. I was taking a break from rubbing her shoulders by playing with her curls. "Why won't you fuck me?" Summer asked. I scoffed "Maybe I'm saving you, did you think of that?" "No. I thought you didn't want me-" "-You're a dream girl." "Was that an insult or a compliment, Clive?" "Neither. It was a pun. Of course I want you, but I don't feel any rush." A looked up as a shadow of hurt passed over her pretty face, dimming her smile. "You should." The woman who had just walked by was now two blocks down. I stopped twirling Summer's thick hair and touched her temples. She liked to be touched. In front of us was a pile of objects, mostly familiar objects like plates, DVD's and books. I had been thinking up things all afternoon (or whatever time it was) since finding Summer and the Wacker Ltd. hot dog cart. I thought it was an odd name for a hot dog company. Something about the name made me think about something...it was too fuzzy to pinpoint, but the name meant something to me. I just couldn't remember. "Try a baseball bat." Summer suggested, "You play ball; that should be easy for you." "I guess," I nodded, closing my eyes. I told Summer to close her eyes too and concentrate with me. I could feel the skin around her eyes tighten up as she clamped her lids shut. I pictured the bat in the vast twinkling space behind my eye lids and imagined pushing it, as if by gunshot, so far into the distance that it disappeared into a speck. There was a thud and a wooden clatter before us and I opened my eyes. "Alright, that was easy." "Now a ball," Summer said. In a second it bounced onto the pile and rolled down, coming to a rest between Summer's bare feet. She leaned forward and picked it up. She held it in her small hand as if it were an egg that would immediately hatch. I took the ball from her and inspected the stitching. "Can I fuck her?" I asked. Summer knew who I meant. "Of course." I hopped off the hot dog cart and took the ball from Summer's hand and picked the bat up from the ground. I lobbed the ball into the air and swung at it. I hit the ball so hard I grunted, but it wouldn't fly any further than a few feet in front of me. It stayed suspended in the air like it was on a fishing line, gently swaying in the breeze. I scowled I smiled and softly spoke her name. "Heidi." She stopped. "Good choice," Summer said, "Catherine tells me you have enough cock for two women. Why don't you take me with you?" "Maybe I don't want to share you." I said. Heidi Klum had turned and was now walking back, "I want a bed, something proper. I can't fuck Heidi on a playground tire." "So, make a bed." I nodded and rolled over on my back. My head dangled upside-down over the side, directly above Summer's. I watched as Heidi strutted towards me. Looking at her upside down was fun and I smiled. "Hello," she said, lifting her hand in a wave. I waved to, and smiled...or was it frowned? I suppose in this world is didn't matter. There wasn't an up or a down. "Kiss me," I said, lifting my neck as she came to a stop beside the hot dog cart. She didn't pause, she leaned over, giving me the briefest flash of her million-dollar cleavage, and pressed her mouth possessively against mine. She was a strong kisser and I didn't argue when she flicked her tongue against mine. I also didn't argue when she put her palm on my chest. Her skin felt hot and immediate, as if there was no fabric between her and me. I broke her kiss and looked down." "Holy shit," I breathed. "You're not the only one who can learn tricks," Heidi smiled. Her hand was indeed touching my bare skin, despite the fact I was still wearing my shirt. I watched her glide her hand down. The shirt seemed to dry up and blow away in the form of dust as her hand moved. Her fingers passed my navel, then another six inches down to my crotch. My shorts did nothing to keep her from grasping hold of my dick. I heard Summer sigh and mutter under her breath, "I guess this is my cue." She stood and walked away into a store, leaving Heidi and I alone to fuck...