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Perchance to Dream

By: mixoscopist



(c) 2007. All rights reserved

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 

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On her back on a bed of fallen leaves, under a canopy of trees, their boughs thick with younger leaves and bent with the swollen fruit of a long, hot summer, my wife's naked body arches. Her breasts thrust upward, as succulent as the green mangoes that hang perilously overhead. Above her, his naked body between her splayed legs, his thickly muscled arms stretched out, the bulging head of his thick, long, dark penis sunk into her flesh, the dark-skinned young man grunts and, flexing his buttocks, drives his hips forward. Beneath him, my wife gasps thickly, her mouth opening wide, her head arching back. Her hands dig into his tough, rounded biceps. Her legs spread wider. Her hips heave eagerly upward. Her feet climb up the backs of his thighs.

They are on the terrace of my neighbour's outhouse across the road. Half a century ago, my neighbour's grandfather built this single-storeyed structure as servants' quarters to his mansion. The outhouse stands tucked away to the northern edge of the large property, barely five feet from the low boundary wall. It's nothing much: a long rough-finished concrete bunker running east-west, set on a plinth raised three feet off the ground and consisting of a series of rooms, each of which opens out onto a small stoop and a flight of three or four steps leading down to the alley between the quarters and boundary wall. There is a common toilet and bath facility at the far end.

Today, the outhouse is rundown and decrepit, its walls stained black with the soot of the years. The area around the outhouse is untended and overgrown. 

There are several people in the outhouse. Most of them are surprisingly young; the women in their mid-twenties, the men a little older, some teenaged guys and girls, a couple of infants. I'd guess the oldest guy there would be in his late thirties. Not one of them works for my neighbour. I believe he is fighting with the occupants, trying to evict them. But that's how things are here. Once you've let somebody in, it's impossible getting them out.

It's hardly surprising that he hasn't maintained it. I don't think he bothers much any more. It's cheaper to let them stay on, pay the utility bills and forget about them. I notice he's planted a hedge that divides the main house from the servants' quarters now and there are several large trees. It forms a natural barricade. My neighbour has effectively given up this piece of earth. The occupants of the outhouse are squatting on a fortune in real estate.

The structure has a large, rectangular terrace, approached up an iron ladder at the far, eastern, end. From my window, I can see it clearly, just across the narrow road that separates my house from the neighbour's. There aren't any tall buildings around, just our properties and the surrounding greenery. My house is set off a little to one side. Like the neighbour's main bungalow, ours is a two floor structure. We've given out the lower floor and use the upper floor ourselves. Being a single-storeyed structure, the neighbour's outhouse terrace is below the level of my window. I have an unimpeded view across its entirety. The terrace has low, one-foot high side walls on all four sides, making a perfect, shallow, flat space within. 

I stand by my window now, my room in darkness, and stare across the road. There's a sodium-vapour streetlamp on the road. In its pale amber glow, through the barrel of the telescope, I can see their bodies clearly. The man is fucking my wife slowly and heavily and unhurriedly now. I can see them clearly. His white teeth flash in the dull light as he grins down at her. His powerful shoulders knot and bunch together. His taut hips rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Beneath him, her body arches and heaves, her hips rise and falling in unison with his in an erotic dance. Her hands stroke his strong body and deep chest, run down his flanks to his buttocks. Her legs are tighter under his buttocks now. 

My pulse is hammering. There is a roaring in my ears. My eyes burn. There's a hollow pit in my stomach, as if I have been punched hard in the solar plexus. 

I have a monstrous erection.

I take several deep breaths, exhaling hard each time, fighting my own reaction. No matter how often I see this, no matter how much I want to see this, it's always like the first time, it's always the same.

Yes, I'm a cuckold, and willingly. Yes, other men fuck my wife, regularly and often, and sometimes more than one at the same time. And yes, I watch. Each time, I watch. It is all I can do. It is all I want to do. It's been like this for years now, and there's no longer any doubt that she loves this, being fucked by other men, different men, hard, muscular, dark men. And yes, well-hung men. Size matters to her. Not so much for the actual sex, she often clarifies, as for the mental and visual stimulation of a big cock.

And she likes sleaze, and she likes it rough, the sleazier and the rougher the better. Being fucked by the servants has a special thrill, a cachet and fillip all its own.

But this! I can hardly believe it. Out there, out in the open, and the guy's not even one of our regular servants and it's not even in the privacy of our home. It's out there, right out there in the open. God, she's such a slut!

The guy's moving faster now, thrusting deeper and harder into her. Her body rocks and jerks under his. I can see her swollen breasts jiggling with his thrusts.

It's not a surprise to me that it's happening, though, till now, I didn't believe she would actually go through with it. She's been setting it up for several weeks. I've seen her at it: stealing out of bed late at night, sauntering past the window, opening out her robe to let him have a good look at her breasts; lifting them in offering to him across the road; masturbating openly, flinging her head back and running her tongue sexily over her upper lip; pressing her breasts and writhing against the grillwork of the window; watching him take out his big cock and masturbate right before her eyes. I've seen it all, and I've done nothing.

Nothing except get ready. I waited till she slipped out of bed and out of the bedroom, heard her let herself out softly and immediately knelt on the bed at the window. They came up to the terrace as I suspected they would -- I'd only feared that they would go do it inside, in one of the rooms in the outhouse. I'm solidly in luck.

They're moving faster and I see her pull his head down to hers and I see them kiss, a long, lover's kiss with lots of tongue. He straightens again and now his torso is upright. He holds her ankles and pulls her legs up and wide. He is on his knees, his thighs spread wide, his buttocks on his heels. 

He swings his hips viciously back and forth. Through the lens, I can see his huge dark cock pistoning in and out of her cunt. Her body jerks on the terrace floor, her breasts jiggling and bouncing heavily with his thrusts. She lifts and squeezes them, arches steeply. Her mouth is torn open.

A while ago, I saw them come up, her and this young man. I guessed he was probably in his late twenties. They emerged from the shadows at the far end of the terrace, hand-in-hand. She was leading him, and she drew him to the front edge of the terrace, almost as if she wanted me to see her with him. She wore a loose cotton skirt, swirling down around her calves and a thin white cotton shirt. The shirt was almost completely transparent. It was unbuttoned, and its ends were knotted on her belly high under her breasts which strained at the cloth. The guy was bare-chested, clad only in a pair of baggy slacks. His body was superb: dark and muscular, the chest deeply cleaved, the belly hard and flat and nicely cobbled. I saw the power in his shoulders and arms. 

When they were in the front half of the terrace -- where I could see them clearly -- she turned and he drew her closer and I watched them kiss, his hands on her hips, then her buttocks, her hands sliding sexily up his hard chest, fondling his head and face. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He slid his hands up her naked midriff and opened out the knot of her shirt, pulled it down her slender shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were already heavy and swollen. Through the 'scope, I saw the hardness of her nipples. He squeezed her breasts. I saw the flash of his white teeth as he grinned at her. She tilted her face back languorously. Her lips moved in a soft murmur. His grin widened. Her hand slid down to his crotch. He moved his hands to her buttocks, drew her skirt up her thighs, right up to her hips. She didn't have any panties on either. His big, dark hands roamed the curves of her buttocks. I saw him strike them, sharply, saw her mouth open in a gasp, saw her body quiver at his blow. He struck her again. 

She sank downwards, kissing his torso, licking his dark nipples, slowly descending to her knees before the man. I watched her open the clasp, pull down the zipper fly and peel the trousers open. He wasn't wearing undershorts either. His cock sprang out. I groaned at sight of it. It was a huge dark hose. Still limp, its six-inch plus length curved over his heavy balls. Not yet erect, it was bigger than mine in full tumescence. 

There was no doubt that she loved it, was intensely turned on by it. I could see them clearly, in profile to me. She ran her fingers lovingly down the thick shaft, caressing it, kissing the shaft and cock-head, pumping it deftly. The light glinted off her gold wedding band. She slipped back the foreskin and the huge bulging cock-head was at her lips. His cock began to lengthen and thicken. Her lips parted and her tongue swept out and around the cock-head. The man gasped, his head slowly arching in pleasure, his mouth open, raising his face to the dark sky above. 

Kneeling at his feet, one hand on his strong thigh, the other curled around the thick enormity of his cock, jerking it back and forth, my wife opened her mouth wider and drew his cock into it. She began sucking the young man's huge cock, rocking her head back and forth in front of him, hollows in her cheeks as she sucked harder. His hand fell to her head, gently caressing her face, her lips, feeling his cock go in and out of her mouth. He stood with the other hand on his hip, moving his hips gently back and forth, fucking her face. Her fingers curled again around the base of his shaft, then pumped the cock eagerly. Her mouth opened and her tongue worked the cock-head and shaft eagerly. I saw her drop her head under it, running her tongue and teeth down the cock-shaft, caressing her face with it, going down lower to lick and suck his balls. Her head rose again, and I saw her take his cock deep in her mouth once more. Her hands moved down to her breasts, lifting and squeezing them in unfaked arousal. The man's head was bent, watching her, his hands on her head now, moving it to and fro to suit his pleasure as he fucked her face.

She sucked his cock like some porn queen, her cheeks distending as it went in, her mouth opening wide to receive him. I couldn't understand how he could stand it for so long and not explode. He was more man than I, that much was evident.

Finally he stopped her and they slid to the floor, kissing deeply and wantonly, with wide open mouths and lots of tongue-play. I saw her eagerly sucking his tongue into her mouth while her hand jerked his cock; saw his tongue at her ear, his lips at her throat, then on her breasts, saw him squeeze and suck and nibble them, saw her arch her back and open her mouth in a love call I knew only too well, though I couldn't hear it. 

The man moved over her, pulled her knees open, moved between them, bent over her on his forearms and knees, her swollen breasts flattening under his deep chest. His buttocks flexed and his hips sank downward and I saw her back bow under his body, her head slowly tilting back, her mouth feverishly questing his. Her legs rose and wound around his thighs, under his buttocks. Her hands roamed his back lovingly. His buttocks rose and fell, flexed and unflexed. Beneath him, her body rocked and jerked with his thrusts, her hips rising and falling in unison with his. I watched her kiss him again, holding his head in her hands and wantonly sucking his tongue into her mouth. He broke, and rose, bending his head to her breasts, sucking on them, whipping the nipples with his tongue. Her chin dropped and her face turned slightly to one side, facing me and I saw her slow, wanton smile, the radiance of lust on her face, saw her caress his head tenderly on her breasts. 

He's on his knees now, holding her legs up high and wide, his powerful shoulders knotting, his face tight with tension. His hips slide rapidly back and forth, his cock cleaving deep into her split wide open cunt. She is pinned to the floor of the terrace and I see her head flipping from side to side, her features contorted with lust, her teeth bared, her hands on her bouncing breasts. I can lip-read her love-calls: fuck me! Fuck me harder! Chodh mujhe!

The man stops and pulls out of her and rolls her over onto her front, slapping her buttocks. On her hands and knees, she awaits him, a bitch in deep rut. Her gold necklace hangs free of her skin, swaying slightly. He positions himself behind her. She takes her weight on one arm, and lifts the other hand to a pendulous breast, squeezing it eagerly. The man pries her buttocks open, his thumbs in the crease between her buttocks, his big fingers on her butt-cheeks. Holding her firmly, he slowly flexes his buttocks and slides his hips forward, arching his head back, his mouth open in a gasp. Beneath him, she bites her lower lip and lifts her head, too, her eyes fluttering shut. I see her mouthing more obscenities. 

The man begins to fuck her unhurriedly, holding her hips and moving her body back and forth before him, swinging his hips to and fro. Through the 'scope, I see his huge cock appearing and disappearing between the smooth curves of her buttocks. Her breasts bounce and jiggle heavily with their motions. Her gold necklace swings to and fro. He moves faster and then bends forward over her back, cupping her breasts in his hand. She turns her face over a slender shoulder and he kisses her, another lascivious, wanton kiss. 

He straightens and begins fucking her harder and deeper and faster, jerking her body heavily back and forth, whipping his hips to and fro. Her head arches, her mouth snaps open. He swings a leg forward astride her hip. She sinks to her forearms on the floor, her head bowing, her shoulders squeezing together. He pauses slightly and moves the other leg forward so that he is now straddling her hips in a low squat. His hands pressed to her back, he begins fucking her furiously, with demonic thrusts, ramming his cock down deep into her again and again. Her hands are clenched together under her face, her forearms angled towards each other. Her head hangs in wanton surrender. I see her orgasm hitting her, see her head rising slowly, her mouth opening in a soundless cry. Her body sinks lower still, her face turned to one side on the leaf-litter, her shoulders pressed to the ground, her trembling hips thrust up high. 

The man continues fucking her, but slowly now. He slows, and slows and then pulls out of her and lurches to his feet. Moaning, she turns, sitting on the ground, her arms stretched out behind her, her face turned up. The man stands over her, behind her head, pushes his cock into her mouth. He groans, his head flung back, his cock going in and out of her mouth. She reaches up to jerk it. I see her sucking it eagerly, jerking it, working it feverishly with her tongue.

He cums explosively, into her wide open mouth, flooding it, spattering her face and breasts with his seed. I watch, transfixed, horrified, aroused, as she jerks his cock for more, swallows his cum, lasciviously laps the last few drops off his cock-head and takes his cock gently into her mouth again. The man steps back. She smiles up at him. I see her thanking him. He drops to his knees behind her, puts his arms around her. She leans against his chest. He runs his fingers through the cum on her breasts, feeds it to her mouth. She sucks it lovingly. He cups her breasts. They kiss again. 

A few minutes later, she slips into her shirt, pulls on her skirt. The man pulls on his trousers. They kiss again and, hand in hand, walk into the darkness at the back of the terrace.

II

"Oh god yes, oh god yes!" I gasp, my eyes fluttering open.

Above me, rocking eagerly up and down on my cock, my wife moans. Her heavy breasts bounce and jiggle. I watch, aroused beyond belief, as she lifts one heavy breast and bends her head, licking her own nipple, first one, then the other. It's an incredible sexy action. She holds her breasts and bounces up and down on my cock. Her cunt squeezes, lets go, squeezes.

"Ohhh god yes!" she moans. "Fuck me! Fuck me baby, fuck me!"

God, she looks so lovely, her gold necklace tossing on her skin, her face glowing with lust. I hold her hips and buck my own eagerly up and down beneath her. The fire in my groin is unbearable, intensified only by the images that have flooded my head.

But it was just a dream. Oh thank god, it was just a dream. She's been here with me all the time, I've just been dreaming all that. God, I want her so much. I heave up harder and faster. She cries out, loudly now and leans forward and her hands tighten on the bars of the window grill. Her hips rise and fall over mine. Her breasts look luscious, gorgeous, heaving and bouncing sexily above my face. I crane my neck and suck on her stiff nipples, squeezing the mounds together, taking both nipples into my mouth at once. She moans. 

I hear the whistle. Quite distinctly, a two-note call, a long note, then a shorter one. It's repeated. I know she hears it too. She moans again, and, looking up, I see her eyes are open wide. Looking out. Her tongue runs sexily over her upper lip. She leans further forward to the window, lifting and squeezing her breasts eagerly. The whistle again. 

No. Oh god no. It can't be ... no, it can't be ... it was a dream ... but ... it's impossible! I can smell him on her! I swear I can. The woodsy, muskiness of him, his sweat, his cum. No! It can't be! And there, between her breasts, is that the stickiness of his cum still?

I heave her off me and roll her over onto her front, facing the window. She grips the bars of the window, her elbows on the window sill. I kneel behind her and run my cock into her, hard. She cries out, her head lifting. I begin fucking her, hammering my hips wildly back and forth. She cries out again, jerking and rocking under me, her cunt tight on my cock. 

My eyes snap to the window. And then, across the road, in the pale amber glow of the streetlamp, I see him. The man from my dream. Watching us from the terrace. He steps forward into puddle of light. He is bare-chested, wearing only baggy slacks. I see his teeth flash in the darkness. He knows he has my attention now. Slowly, he unzips his trousers, draws out his cock. It is exactly as I saw in my dream. He strokes his cock lovingly with one hand, the other arm across his hard-muscled torso. He pumps his hips back and forth towards my wife's face. I lip-read him saying her name. He raises his free arm, his hand in a closed fist, turned down, and makes the universal pumping gesture for a fuck. Oh god, no!

My eyes open. The room is dark, the curtains drawn. The windows are shut. Beneath me, on all fours, my wife groans. I lean forward, relief and joy flooding my head, and bend over her, nuzzling the nape of her neck lovingly. She doesn't turn her head. I slide my hands under her body to her heavy breasts.


Perchance to Dream



At last, she turns her face and opens her mouth. I move my lips to hers.

"Fuck me," she gasps. "Oh god, yes ... c'mon! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

And then it all falls apart, and the vision is again a nightmare.

She lifts her head, her eyes closed. Her moans are louder now. 

And in a tongue I have never before heard her use. 

"Chodh mujhe, Mohan, jorse chodh! Fuck me, Mohan, fuck me hard! Ohma uh hanh uhh ohhhh Mohan!"

Mohan. 

That is not my name.

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Comments are, of course, welcome.

This story is copyright © Mixoscopist, 2007. 



Perchance to Dream



Jenny was practically vibrating she was so excited. She'd been dating Eric for a little over a year. He was the one ... She was sure of it. 

On the anniversary of their first date, he showed up at her office dressed in the exact clothes he had been wearing that night. They went to the same restaurant, ordered the same meal. Back at his place, he'd rented the movie they had gone to see. Everything was perfect. It was more than perfect, because this time they made love on the soft shag rug in front of the television after the movie.

Jenny was on her way to Philadelphia. Eric had to attend a conference that spilled over into Valentine's weekend. She was going to surprise him. Jenny adored making love to Eric, but she'd never been overly adventurous. She knew Eric sometimes craved more.

So, the plan this weekend was to surprise him ... in more ways than one. When she arrived at his hotel, she went straight to his room and waited for housekeeping to arrive. She snuck into his room and hid in the closet. When housekeeping left, she ran herself a steamy bubble bath. She soaked and played with herself to get in the mood. Jenny fantasized about Eric's reaction to seeing her, and it made her tingle.

After the bath, she covered her skin with the scented lotion he liked so much. Then, she got deliciously naked and hid in his closet.

She knew his routine: he'd bound into the room, rip off his tie, go to the bathroom and wash his face and neck with cool water. That's when she would slip out of the closet, climb on the bed and display her body for his delight. She couldn't wait to see the look of shock morph into lust on his handsome face.

Jenny heard the card slip into the slot and felt herself getting wet at the thought of seeing Eric's reaction to all the naughty things she had in mind. Just like clockwork, Eric did his thing. But, right before she opened the door to slip out of the closet and display her body for him, she was stopped by a knock at his door. Jenny closed the closet but left it cracked enough to see what was happening. She figured he'd ordered room service and certainly wasn't ready to let the waiter see her naked.

Eric walked out of the bathroom ... naked and hard as steel.

Jenny froze when she heard a female voice from the other side of the door shout, "Eric! Hurry up! I'm gonna get arrested!" He trotted to the door. The instant it was unlatched, a tall, lanky, naked blonde lunged through the door, jumped in Eric's arms, wrapped her long legs around his waist, and they staggered back onto his bed. There was no foreplay. She impaled herself on his cock and ground herself savagely on him, fucking him like the world was about to end.

Inside the closet, Jenny was far too dazed, hurt, humiliated, and embarrassed to move. She watched as the woman screamed in orgasmic bliss. Eric pumped her as fast as he could and let loose a guttural yell as he painted her pussy with his sexual liqueur.

Before he could even recover, the woman hopped off of him and sucked his dick back to tumescent life. She then buried her head in the pillows, got on her knees, and stuck her slender ass in the air. Eric sank into her until his balls slapped hard against her lithe body. He grabbed her hips and pounded into her with feral abandon.

"Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Make me feel every inch of your huge cock!" she bellowed into the pillows.

Jenny, traumatized with tears streaming down her face, closed the door, but the primal screams and the sound of bodies slapping together painted vivid images in her mind.

"OH, JESUS CHRIST!!" the woman shrieked.

Then, the final dagger ripped open Jenny's heart.

"OH, GOD!! I LOVE YOU, CASEY!! ARRAGGGHH!!"

Jenny collapsed onto the closet floor, but she wasn't worried about anyone hearing her. She cried so hard, she felt light-headed. She heard the bed squeak, womanly giggles, and the patter of feet into the bathroom. She listened as the shower ignited. She heard bodies bump into the shower walls.

"My God, Eric! Does this beautiful cock ever deflate?"

"Not when you're around!"

"Oh, Jesus, that's so good. Yeah ... right there! Oh, Baby!"

When the rhythmic slap of bodies commenced, Jenny quickly pulled on her clothes. She grabbed the pen and notepad off the nightstand and wrote: "Don't ever call or see try to see me ever again!!! I HATE YOU!!! Jen" Between her heaves, she took off her engagement ring, folded it in the note, slipped quickly into the bathroom, and stuffed the note in Eric's boxer lying on the ground.

Jenny didn't go immediately to the airport. She walked in a daze around Philadelphia for several hours. It was Valentine's eve, and the city of Brotherly love was teeming with romance. Couples littered the streets. Since Valentine's was on Saturday, the lovers' festival had already started. Jenny had never felt so empty, so lost. She was too drained to go back home, so she found a hotel and got a room for the night. She bought a cheese steak and a bottle of brandy. The cheese steak never got unwrapped. The brandy did.

She slept until 2:00 pm and awoke with a hideous dry mouth and throbbing head. She staggered into the bathroom. Jenny hated throwing up more than just about anything. But, her stomach was like a rolling sea. She hardly had to touch the back of her throat to get a small waterfall of "poison" to shoot out of her gut. When she'd finished, she chuckled at the absurdity of her perfect weekend.

Jenny notified the hotel that she would check out very early on Monday morning. She turned on the shower as hot as she could stand so she could exterminate all the smells of the bath and lotion. Once she'd changed, she felt like tackling the world ... a little.

She opened the hotel directory and discovered she'd stumbled into a very nice place, loaded with amenities. She noted where the spa was located and trotted down to treat herself.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we close at 5:00," said the receptionist. Jenny looked at her watch and realized it was 4:57 pm.

Normally, such an event wouldn't have been catastrophic, but in her current state, she was devastated. Her chin quivered, and she choked out a weak, "Thank you, anyway." Then, she walked just outside the door, leaned against the door frame and cried.

Ryan walked out from the back, wiping his hands on a towel. He'd overheard the conversation and asked Brittany, "What's going on?"

"I don't know. She came in asking about spa services. When I told her we were closing, she walked outside and started crying."

Ryan turned again to look at the sad, raven-haired young woman trying to stifle her tears.

"Brit, go ahead and take off. I think I'll check on her."

"Okay. See you Monday." 

He quietly opened the door. Then, in his gentlest voice, asked, "Miss, can I help you with something?"

Jenny was startled and embarrassed. "No, I'm sorry ..." She started to scurry away.

Ryan tenderly grabbed her hand. She looked back at his kind smile and stopped. "Come one inside. Have a seat."

"But, you're closed."

"Then, we won't be disturbed."

Jenny knew she must look like a wreck, but his manner was so soothing, she was drawn to him. Ryan escorted her to the back waiting area, where she sat in a plush, velvet chair. He went to the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of Chablis in crystal wine glass, placed on a silver tray with a yellow and red rose lying on it. Jenny gulped down the wine so quickly that Ryan burst out laughing.

"Let me just get the bottle."

He returned and filled her glass.

"Thank you. You're so nice, but I should let you go home."

He looked deeply into her eyes and answered, "I'd prefer to stay ... if you're interested."

She'd never seen blue eyes so clear and piercing. "But, it's – it's Valentine's ..."

"For some." He studied her dark features. Despite the runny mascara and puffiness around her eyes, she was genuinely beautiful, he marveled. He assumed there had to be a story of lost love behind those eyes, but he was stymied by the stupidity of the man who could let a treasure like her slip away. 

"What services interested you?" he asked.

Jenny began relaxing as she came to realize he was sincere. "The whirlpool, sauna, and a massage sounded like what I needed."

He smiled. "Perfect. I hadn't even had time to turn anything off, so all the facilities are hot and ready. Tell me how this sounds ... I'll escort you to the dressing room. Since no one is here, you are free to use any and all facilities in whatever attire you choose. Towels and robes are hanging in each dressing area. We have both wet and dry saunas, the whirlpool, and, if you're adventurous, an ice pool. Some people like to turn up the dry sauna as hot as they can stand. Then, they plunge into the ice pool. It's a Nordic thing. Since no one else is here, you can take as much time in either as you'd like with any or all of it. I assume you've not had dinner?"

Jenny smiled for the first time in what seemed like ages. "No."

"Excellent. One of my best friends is the head chef at L'Auberge Chantal. I'll call Henri and have him surprise us. I'll also pick up some wine. You're staying here, I presume?"

"Yes," she said with a growing smile.

"Good. Then, I'll pick up some champagne as well. I can get strawberries and chocolate from the kitchen here. By the time I return, you should be nice and relaxed. We have a small private terrace for spa clients. I'll turn on the gas heater, and we'll dine al fresco. Sound like a decent way to spend a Valentine's evening?"

"It sounds like something from a movie!"

He chuckled. "Afterwards, I'll give you the massage of your life. By the time I'm finished, I may have to get a gurney to wheel you to your room!"

Jenny was delighted. "Here, let me give you some money."

"Absolutely not! This is my treat. If you hadn't shown up, I'd have spent the evening with a Guinness and a soccer game at Devon's." He kissed her hand. "I much, much prefer your company for the evening."

Ryan smiled, and Jenny melted looking at his dimples. "I'm Jenny, by the way."

"Ryan."

He showed her where everything was and how to operate it all. "Also, in the shower, this lever releases a menthol mist. It opens the pores. Well, Jenny, you're all set. I put the Chablis on ice by the whirlpool. Absolutely no one will bother you. I'll turn on some music on my way out. So, shoo ... You've got a lot of relaxing to do!"

"Why are you doing this for a total stranger?"

He smiled. "It's fun. I mean, I'm having a great time ... Are you having fun?"

"Oh, my God, yes!"

He kissed her hand again, winked, and disappeared.

Jenny entered the changing room and decided to do everything naked. There was something erotic about being naked in a strange place. The whirlpool was like Heaven. She sank into the warm bubbles and let them caress her body. In no time at all, she began to doze.

She was flying in a dark cozy airplane that seemed to have a convertible top. The air felt scintillating on her skin. She was walking to refill her drink. Suddenly, she heard the unknown woman's voice murmur, "Yeah ... right there! Oh, Baby!" Jenny took a step and plunged right through the floor of the plane and plummeted to the ground.

Jenny sprang up from the water with her heart racing, gasping for air. She stepped out of the whirlpool and entered the steam sauna. It seemed too much like her native Savannah in July. She moved to the dry sauna. It bit her nose, but she liked it. After about 15 minutes, she giggled and ran out of the sauna. She jumped into the ice pool and wondered if they kept a crash cart handy. Jenny practically walked on water getting out of the pool, but she had to admit it was stimulating. She did the dry sauna, ice pool circuit twice more before hopping into the menthol shower.

Ryan shouted, "Just wanted you to know I'm back. Take your time. I need about 20 minutes to get set up."

"Okay," she called from the shower.

Twenty minutes later, Jenny walked out in a robe and slippers with her long hair hanging damply about her shoulders. Her mouth fell open when she saw what Ryan had done.

Their table was draped in red linen with two gleaming white place settings. Candles and roses adorned the table. Henri had prepared Coquilles St. Jacques with baby spring vegetables in puff pastry. A bottle of Rhone Roussannes sat on ice. As if that wasn't enough, Ryan had showered and dressed in a white tux dinner jacket. His smile was huge as he saw the reaction he was hoping to elicit. He held out a seat for Jenny.

"I think I'm underdressed."

"You are divine. The steam washed off all the make-up, the menthol opened your pores, so all the redness is gone from your eyes. You are an absolute Goddess. Now, dig in!"

"Who are you? You're like the Batman of romance."

Ryan laughed hard at that remark. "Let's just say that I learned the hard way that women are to be cherished. Plus, when a woman is as beautiful as you, I get inspired."

"You keep saying that. You really think I'm beautiful?"

He looked into her eyes and got a puzzled look on his face. "Is it even possible you don't know?" He retrieved a hand mirror. "Look at the sleek line of your jaw ... the rich, fullness of your lips ... the regal line of your nose ... the dark mystery of your eyes ... the elegance of your neck. Jenny, you're the reason poets write and artists create."

She snorted but stopped when she realized he wasn't joking. She felt her face grow warm in his gaze.

"So, please tell me about yourself ... while we eat!" he added.

Jenny began by describing her job as a health policy analyst for Senator Grant from Georgia. Ryan asked a lot of perceptive questions about her work. She explained that away from work, she loved music. She went from club to club, festival to festival on weekends in D.C. exploring different music.

"Do you play?"

"Guitar and sing ... in the shower."

She started to tell Ryan what brought her to the spa, but he stopped her.

"I'll be very eager to hear about the witless baboon who suffers from an ignorance so profound that he betrayed an angel like you on Valentine's whenever you want to tell me ... except tonight. This evening is all about you."

They discussed politics, theatre, music, favorite Seinfeld episodes, and most embarrassing moments. The dinner seemed to last hours and the blink of an eye, all at the same time.

"I have strawberries and champagne for dessert, but first, you need a massage."

Ryan led her to the massage area. Jenny was touched by his gallantry in making sure her modesty was protected. When she was comfortable lying on her stomach, Ryan began with her neck.

"You're so tight!" He squeezed, pressed, and prodded the knots in her neck muscles until they were limber. He then repeated his actions on her back, running his hand and fingers up and down her spine.

"Your fingers should be registered with some government agency that protects national treasures," she murmured.

He chuckled as he said, "Here ... have more wine."

Ryan worked his way to her hip and repositioned himself to begin on her upper thighs. He applied more oil and pressed the strong tips of his fingers into her sinewy flesh. He used the heel of his palm to press circles into her muscles. His powerful thumbs cajoled her calves into dewy submission.

When he got to her feet, he said, "Okay, time to roll over. I'm going to turn my back while you reposition yourself. Use the sheet to cover your lower body, and here's a soft warmed towel to cover your breasts."

Once Jenny was ready, Ryan turned around and began at her feet. "Have you heard of reflexology?"

"I've heard the term but don't really know what it means," she answered.

"It's an ancient Chinese system. The theory is that nerves from all the organs of the body terminate in the feet. By manipulating those areas, you can remove congestion. I'll start with the area for your lungs. Breathe deeply as I rub them."

Jenny closed her eyes and complied.

One by one, Ryan moved through each area. When he'd finished with a particular area on her feet, he'd rush to massage that area with his hands, return to her feet and repeat. When he'd basically worked his way from her temples to her ankles, he asked, "So, how do you feel?"

No response. Jenny was asleep.

She was leaping through a sunny meadow. Flowers burst all around. Birds were singing. From the corner of her eye, she saw a wolf approach her cautiously. The close he got, his teeth were bared. He growled. He opened his mouth like he was going to bite. Instead, she heard, "I love you, Casey!"

Jenny gasped and sprang up from the table. Ryan was cleaning his oil tray and was startled by the sounds. He turned quickly. Jenny was sucking in air with her hand at her throat. Her towel had flown into the floor. She was oblivious to the fact that she was naked from the waist up.

Ryan's attention was torn. He wanted to focus on her face, but he simply couldn't pry his eyes from the soft fleshy mounds of her breasts. Her skin was covered in goose bumps, and her nipples stood stiff and erect. He somehow forced himself to restore his gaze upon her face and ask, "Jenny, are you okay?"

She looked up at him with great apprehension and instinctively reached to hug him. He held her warm and close until her breathing resumed its normal canter.

"I'm sorry. I-I was having ..."

"A nightmare, I know. Are you alright?"

His eyes were so kind and concerned; she smiled and answered, "Yes. I am now. You must think you got stuck with a crazy woman."

"If this is crazy, I'm having myself committed," he replied with a smile.

She noticed that he seemed to be fighting with his eyes to refrain his glance from dropping to her chest. She looked down. "Oh!" She huffed. "You know what, I don't care. You've been such a gentleman. Be naked is very freeing." She stood and embraced Ryan in another hug, with her face pressed against his strong chest. He discretely turned his hips to the side so she wouldn't be embarrassed by the telephone pole running up his trousers.

"Ready for dessert?"

She smiled and answered, "Yes!"

Ryan had cleared the table. He now sat a chilled bottle of champagne in the ice bucket. A silver tray held a mound of the ripest, juiciest strawberries she'd ever tasted. He also had a small pan of chocolate sauce warming over a candle, but she never needed it.

Perhaps it was the decision that she was so comfortable with Ryan she didn't mind being naked, but whatever it was, Jenny was having a marvelous time. Her laughs were heartier, and her stories were bawdier.

At 1:00 am, Ryan yawned.

"You poor thing. You worked all day and had to babysit a basket case all night. I should let you go. The trouble is, I don't want to let you go. Are you from Philly?"

"Yes. I moved away at various times, but this is home."

"Then, I bet you're like the friends I have in D.C., who never go to the Mall. Feel like being a tourist with me tomorrow?"

"I'd like that a lot actually," he answered, his dimples deepening.

"Want to meet at, say, 10:00?"

"How about 9:00? I know a wonderful French bakery that will be closed by 10:00. You haven't lived until you've had their French roast and fresh croissants with jam."

"My God, that sounds perfect!"

"Okay ... 9:00 sharp in the main lobby."

The next morning, Jenny wore the barest of make-up ... just a little mascara and light pink lip gloss. She towel-dried her hair and let hang loose and free. She wore a baggy sweater and peasant skirt. Ryan picked up on the natural look immediately and beamed.

"And, I thought the sunrise this morning was impressive ..."

She blushed.

After breakfast, they took a walking tour of the Freedom Hall area. Ryan bought a disposable camera to record the event. Jenny bought him a three-corner hat and refused to hold his hand unless he wore it.




Perchance to Dream



They rented bikes and rode to Little Sicily in South Philly to explore some of Ryan's favorite haunts. He took her to Geno's Steaks for lunch ... a Philly tradition.  They peddled to the zoo. The cool air and bright sunshine made the animals frisky.

Ryan offered to buy her some cotton candy. "After that giant beast from Geno's? I may never eat again!"

She sat on a grassy spot under a tree sipping lemonade. Ryan lay on his back with his head in her lap.

"So, tell me, my romantic superhero, how come there aren't a kazillion girls lined up at your door?"

Ryan reached into his wallet and pulled out two pictures: one of a pretty young woman and one of an adorable 10-year-old girl. "Remember when I said I learned the hard way that women were to be cherished?"

"Uh-huh."

"This is Maggie. We were married for eight years. She and I competed in pairs figure skating. We were good and had hopes of competing in the Olympics. We were in practice, and I lifted her in a routine move I'd done a thousand times. Something went wrong, and my shoulder virtually tore away from my body. I had three surgeries to try and correct all the damage. During that time, I kept pushing myself in rehab so we wouldn't miss our Olympics window. The pain was intense. I got hooked on pain-killers. It destroyed me. It destroyed my relationship with Maggie. I was so far gone; I broke into the drug closet at the physicians' practice where I worked as a physical therapist. I got caught and went to prison for a year. When I got out, I'd kicked the habit, but Maggie'd split. The only really good thing that came from that experience was Kelsey."

"Ryan, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Kelsey's beautiful. Do you see her often?"

"Whenever I can. Maggie moved to Denver and got remarried, so it's not easy. I try to make sure that Kelsey knows I love her deeply. She comes here for a few weeks every summer, and we just pal around and explore. She's a great kid. I'm so proud of her."

"Did you ever try to get back with Maggie?"

"Not really. I was pretty much an asshole. She deserved better. Brett seems like a decent guy. I'm happy for her." He sighed. "I wish you didn't have to go back tomorrow."

Jenny pulled out her cell. "Hey, Jas ... It's me. Listen, I know the senator's home next week fund-raising. Think I could extend this vacation a little?"

Ryan sat up and watched her face.

"I don't know ..." She looked at Ryan. 

He mouthed, "A week?"

"How about a week from Monday? ... Right ... Yeah ... I already wrote that. Check the bill support folder on the F drive. ... Thanks, Jas! I owe you!" She looked at Ryan and shrugged.

He jumped up and brushed himself off. Then, he reached down for her, pulled her up, and brushed the leaves off her back and skirt. He smiled and hugged her.

"One more thing ..." She wrapped her fingers around his face and kissed him. "There ... now, we don't have to be awkward about that."

She took his hand and started to leave, but he pulled her back to him. "That was really nice, but REALLY short." He pulled her into a long, soft, moist kiss.

When they broke, her eyes were still closed as she remarked, "I should have guessed that would be one of your super powers."

He laughed. "I got a couple of calls to make myself."

Ryan arranged for his partner to take all his appointment the following week. Then, he called a friend who had a sailboat docked in Annapolis.

"We're all set. We'll drive to D.C., pick up some clothes at your place and head over Annapolis. Phil said we could go wherever we wanted."

"You sail too? Is there anything you don't do?"

"I don't abandon gorgeous women on Valentine's."

"Don't knock it ... It's turning out to be the best thing that ever happened to me!"

That night, they had a late crab dinner before settling in on the boat. Ryan got the engines working and got the heat going. Once it was warm, they settled below.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Definitely not."

Ryan slowly peeled off Jenny's clothes, piece by piece. He kissed and nibbled each body part as it was revealed to him. He nipped her neck and licked her ear lobes. He rubbed her temples as he kissed his way down her throat to her chest. As he unsnapped and removed her bra, he smiled.

"I'm so glad I don't have to pretend I'm not staring at these absolutely perfect breasts anymore."

He gently squeezed them in his strong hands and rolled her nipples between his fingers. He lay her back on the bed and let his tongue dance all around her thick, umber protrusions. Jenny got goose bumps from the intensity of his attention to her body.

Ryan pressed her nipple against the roof of his mouth with his tongue and sucked it deep into his moist mouth. While he used his mouth on one breast, he used both hands on the other, alternating deep massage with light, almost ticklish sensations with his fingertips. Then, he reversed and mimicked his actions.

"My God, this feels so amazing. Eric never spent more than two minutes on my breasts."

Ryan was appalled. "Was this a guy?"

Jenny laughed. "I'm starting to wonder myself."

Ryan applied some oil and moved around both breasts in circles with his palms. Then, he repeated with his fingertips, rolling and pulling her nipples. He lightly bit each nipple as he sucked each into his eager mouth. Then, he put his hands on the side of her body with his thumbs under her breasts. He pressed in firmly at precise pressure points and sucked hard on her left nipple. He quickly switched to her right.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, my God!" Jenny screamed. Her body arched and stiffened. She held her breath as an orgasm seized her and radiated through her loins. Ryan didn't stop until she relaxed.

After she caught her breath, she panted, "Holy shit, you haven't even made it downstairs, and I'm seeing stars. I'm not sure I'm gonna last the night, much less the week!"

"I have a feeling this Eric character was a dilettante. All I'm doing is making love to you the proper way."

"I hope the proper way next means you get naked too." She reached over and pulled his shirt over his head. "Jesus! You really ARE a super hero!" She stared at his broad, chiseled chest and thin rippled waist. She practically tore off his jeans and yanked them down. He had a quite a bit of dark hair on his legs, but he kept his bush trimmed. She felt a small stream of liquid slide down her to her anus as she stared at his long, thick, hard, throbbing penis. She reached out to wrap her fingers around it. "I hope this fits!"

"We'll manage," he said confidently. Ryan then calmly unzipped Jenny pants and slid them down her long legs. She removed her socks and sucked her toes while he gazed at her body. She couldn't help but stare at his cock the whole time. By the time he finally removed her panties, they were dripping.

He spread her legs gently apart and looked hungrily at the single slit displayed before him. He got some oil and worked his hand around her labia. In a short time, her lips parted to reveal the russet folds within. "Every time I see a new part of your body, it's more beautiful than anything else I've ever seen."

Ryan applied more oil to the area and lightly rubbed her exquisite vagina in light, teasing strokes. He told her to lie back and close her eyes. He bent and put his mouth over her clit and teased her bud with delicate wisps from the tip of his tongue. Then, he inserted two fingers into her sodden chamber, pressed on her lower abdomen with his other hand firmly masturbated her by rapidly moving his fingers up and down into her G-spot.

Jenny couldn't even talk. The power of her orgasm hit so hard, all she could do is silently pant. Ryan had to wrap his arms around her hips to be able to keep his hands in position. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on fire as the orgasm churned inside her. When she finally came down, she relaxed so completely, she fell asleep. 

She slept for about an hour before waking in a fog. Ryan was cuddled next to her happily watching her.

"I'm sorry."

"You apologize and doubt yourself WAY too much. Just go with the flow."

"But, what about you? You've been hard for ages."

"No ... I took care of myself ... three times as I watched you sleep and looked at your miraculous body."

She backed her butt into his erection. "Mmm ... I'm glad to see he's ready for more. Can you please put that enormous thing in me right now?"

Ryan felt to see how wet she was. "Let me just use a little of this to make sure we don't have problems." After lubing himself and Jenny, he moved between her legs. He tapped the end of his cock against her clit to make sure it was awake. Then, he placed his tip at her entrance and gradually worked his way into her.

They both had their arms around each other's necks, and they never broke eye contact during the process. Jenny felt her pussy stretch and adjust. When she felt his heavy balls hit her anus, she sighed deeply. 

Ryan still used small thrusts at first so her muscles would relax. When he saw her smile broaden and felt the tenseness leave her body, he slipped his hands under her butt cheeks and began grinding into her with more force.

"You're so beautiful and so tight; I'm not sure how long I'm gonna last this first time. Go ahead and rub your clit to catch up with me."

Jenny put a little oil on her finger tips and began massaging her bud. Ryan was picking up speed, and her fingers matched his pace. When his balls were really slapping her, she got herself off. She figured the rippling of her pussy walls would push Ryan over the edge. She was right. He clinched his jaw and plowed harder and hard into her. Her body flailed, but he was so thick there was no chance of him becoming dislodged. Ryan arched his back and grimaced as his balls launched warm salvos into Jenny. She found the power of his jets incredibly erotic.

When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her legs around him so he would remain in place. She wanted to feel the sensation of him deflating inside her.

"Okay, you've just given me the three best orgasms of my life. Is there some catch somewhere?"

"No ... No catch. You're just exceptionally motivating. Because I know I am going to derive so much pleasure from being with you, I want to make sure you get an equal amount in return."

"I don't know who this guy in Denver is, but he must have a voodoo doll of Maggie stashed somewhere to let you go."

"I just wasn't the right person for her at the time. Brett's a better fit for her."

"Remind me to send him a Christmas present."

Ryan pulled out of Jenny and spooned her. They lay silently for awhile, looking up at the stars and feeling the gentle sway of the boat in the harbor.

"So, how are we going to keep ourselves occupied for a week?"

"Well ..."

"What other thing are we going to do?"

"We've got a week and a good sea. I say we head for warm waters. It'll take us about three days to get to the Keys, if we don't run into any delays. That'll give us five days down there."

"Five?"

"Phil said we could anchor in Key West, and he'd rent it to someone to sail back."

"This just keeps getting better!"

The two of them sailed, ate and fucked their way down the Eastern seaboard of the US. When they finally arrived in Key West, they docked and got off onto dry land.

Jenny was hysterical. "This feels so weird to walk without swaying."

They toured around the island and had dinner facing west.

"Don't you wish you could chuck it all and move here?" she asked.

"That's creepy!"

"What's creepy about that?"

"No ... I was literally thinking the same thing at the same moment."

She leaned back into him, and he put his arms around her. When the sun was about to disappear, he said, "I don't know if you want to hear this or not, but I'm falling in love with you."

She sat up and gazed in his eyes. "How can you be sure?"

"To be honest, I knew when you turned to look at me with your mascara-stained face outside the spa door. I knew the moment I saw you, I was in deep, glorious trouble."

"That sounds like lust."

"It was, but it was a lot more. I read one time that 90% of human communication is non-verbal. I looked at your eyes and saw so much intelligence and sensuality that my heart broke ... in a good way. I've never had that feeling before, Jenny, not even with Maggie."

They stared at each other for awhile.

"Guess you're wondering what I feel?"

"I hadn't thought of it, but now that you mention it."

"You're so full of it. I don't know what I'm feeling. I guess I'm still gun shy. I thought Eric was the one."

"Eric's an ass. You don't have to rush anything. Feel what you feel when you feel it. In my case, I just really had to tell you how I'm feeling, for me."

"Okay."

"Are you okay with that? I didn't screw things up, did I?"

"No ... not at all. I just need to sort through my feelings. I still want to fuck you stupid every night."

"What more could a guy ask for?" She settled back against him and tried to comprehend the past week. "Speaking of stupid, hasn't Eric tried to call you?"

"About 9,000 times. I saw a Verizon store when we were walking. Tomorrow, I want to get a new number."

That night, they motored out into the harbor to anchor so they could have more privacy. When they settled for bed, Jenny practically attacked Ryan, ripping off both their clothes. She grabbed his cock and sucked it as far is it would go in her mouth and bobbed her head rapidly up and down. She gently massaged his balls and sucked him until he sprayed all over the cabin. He collapsed on the floor afterwards.

While he lay on the floor, she thrust her pussy onto his mouth and ground herself on his tongue. By the time she was fired up, he was hard again. She worked her ass up and around until his was buried deep inside her slick vagina. She pumped him hard until he felt his heart pound.

He lifted her off his cock and bent her over the side of the bed. He then re-entered her and slammed his cock into her.

"That's exactly what I needed tonight. Fuck me harder, Ry. Let me feel that huge dick, baby!" Ryan was like a man possessed.  He grabbed her shoulders and slammed as hard as he could into her. A river of clear fluid flowed out of Jenny as she came. She clutched the sheets and buried her face in the mattress as she screamed in delight. Ryan backed off when she finished, giving her a chance to recover. In no time, she back into him and pulled his hips into her hard. Ryan repeated his actions, pounding Jenny with his thrusts. He suddenly exploded in rapid lunges, sending Jenny over the edge again and dumping a waterfall of semen into her. They both collapsed onto the bed.

Some way, somehow, they managed to climb onto the bad and fall asleep in each other's arms.

That night, Jenny was in the meadow again, but there was an ocean in the distance. The warm salt wind blew her hat off her head. She giggled as she ran to retrieve it. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and turned timidly to see what was approaching. It was Ryan with a huge bouquet of wildflowers. He pulled her over to a tree and laid her gently on a blanket. He lay next to her and kissed her with his tongue erotically probing her mouth.

He stopped, looked into her eyes and said, "I love you."

She watched her dream-self caress his cheek in her hand and say, "I love you too, Darling."

Jenny awoke suddenly. The cool salt air bathed them as the boat rocked gently on the calm harbor sea. The sky was painted with more stars than she'd ever seen. Ryan was right next to her with his arm draped around her. She placed his hand on her breast and hugged against him.

She laid her head back down on the pillow and replayed the dream in her mind. She smiled, kissed his hand and whispered in the sweet night air, "I love you too."

Jenny smiled as she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the warmth and security of Ryan's body snuggled next to hers. She drifted into a deep and blissful slumber.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, Miss!" said the conductor as he stood next to Jenny.

She awoke in a mental pea soup. "Huh?" she said as she roused herself in her seat.

"Union Station, Miss," he said by way of explanation.

Jenny was startled and slightly embarrassed as she looked around the empty train car.

"Sorry to disturb you, Miss, but this train's going off-line for maintenance."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry." She hurried to gather her things.

"It's okay, Miss. I just didn't want you to get caught when they move the train to the yard," the older man said with a smile.

"Thanks," she said and smiled weakly in return.

When Jenny had disembarked, she looked down at her left hand. She was still trying to sort through the cobwebs in her mind. She saw that her ring finger was barren and sighed heavily. Obviously, that part had not been a dream.

Jenny lived off Prospect Street in Georgetown. She asked the cab driver to take the Whitehurst so they could avoid all the shops and restaurants on M Street that she and Eric had frequented. When she was inside her apartment, she felt like she was in one of those 50s movies where all the other humans had been killed by some mutant atomic bomb. She saw that she had 22 messages on her answering machine. She unplugged the machine and the phone.

She picked up her mail and walked into the bathroom to run a hot, hot bath. A colorful envelope caught her eye. She opened it and saw an ad for "Renaissance," a new spa opening in the Colonial Inn. The official grand opening was a week away, but they were inviting nearby residents to a free spa visit so they could make sure they were ready for the opening.

Jenny thought back to her dream. God, it was so real. She turned off the bath water, grabbed her purse and headed out the door. The Colonial was a decidedly upscale inn that catered to business clients and wealthy alums of Georgetown University.

"Pardon me, could you tell me where the spa is located?" Jenny asked the person stationed at the registration desk.

The young woman smiled, pointed to the elevator to the right and said, "Just take that down one floor and follow the gold balloons." Jenny smiled and nodded.

She figured the place would be swamped, but it was deserted. She wondered if it was even open. She pushed the handle, and the front door opened.

"Hold on! I'll be right out!" came a male voice from the back.

Jenny was blown away by the opulence. She was looking through a leather-bound book of services when a man walked into the lobby.

"Sorry! I was doing some cleaning," he remarked.

Jenny turned and saw a tall, muscular man with blonde hair and piercing blue eye wipe his hands as he approached her. "Hi, I'm Jake," he said, extending his hand. "Did you receive one of the flyers?"

"Yes ... in the mail."

"Great! You've come at a perfect time. Earlier today, this place was a total zoo. Here, let me take your coat and bag. Did you have something in mind, or would you like the nickel tour?"

Jenny didn't answer. She was staring at Jake's face, specifically the dimple on his right cheek when he smiled.

"Uh, Miss?"

"Oh, uhm, I was thinking about something. Tour."

When Jake finished escorting her around, he asked, "So, what'll it be?"

"I'm sorry! I can't do this!" Jenny said as she turned and rushed out the door.

About an hour later, she was sitting at the hotel bar nursing a glass of red wine when she heard a voice behind her. "I'm not 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure there's a city ordinance against a gorgeous woman sitting by herself in a hotel bar on a Saturday night."

She turned her head, and Jake was standing there, grinning, dressed in a collarless shirt and jeans, looking at her.

"I'm so pathetic."

"Pathetic enough to let a guy who's been schlepping around in a spa all day sit with you?"

She smiled. Jake sat next to her. "A Sam draft, Keith," he said to the bartender. He turned back to Jenny and said, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. So, I'll apologize in advance in case I babble on and on, just so I can stare into them."




Perchance to Dream



Jenny chuckled and looked down shyly at the compliment.

"Thanks, Keith," he said as his beer was placed in front of him. He asked Jenny, "Feel like talking about it to a total stranger, uh ..."

"Jenny."

"Jenny?"

"No. It's too long and too sad."

He nodded. "I understand. You know, a lot of progress has been made in the science of stupidity, but, in my opinion, they could name a whole wing after the guy who made you feel like this. I know we just met, but could I buy you dinner?"

"I don't know. I'm really tired."

"Sure." He rose to leave Jenny in peace.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not very good company tonight."

"Please, don't apologize. I understand completely. Let's just say I learned the hard way that women are to be cherished." At those words, Jenny flashed a look of recognition at Jake as he turned to walk away.

"Jake, wait! Maybe dinner with you is just what I need."

His face broke into a huge smile. He helped her on with her coat and they walked out of the bar together. "So, what do you feel like?"

She looked into his kind eyes and answered, "It really doesn't matter."

"Have you tried Shakespeare?"

"No."

"I think you'll like it. It'll be quiet, dark and intimate ... something rare on a Saturday night."

"It sounds perfect."

He offered his hand. She took it, and they started down the sidewalk together. "Now, join your hands, and with your hands your hearts."

Jenny smiled. "Henry VI."

And, hand-in-hand, they disappeared into the scarlet mist.



Perchance to Dream



Disclaimer:

This is purely a work of fiction. Any descriptions or names that resemble actual persons, businesses, or locations are purely coincidental.

The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

I – Consummation

'She would look so hot covered in blood,' he thought, as he observed the woman exiting the spa. In the late evening light, she appeared more like an expensive piece of jewelry than a woman. Her fair skin shone silver in the waning light; her blonde hair was like the finest spun gold; sapphire eyes sparkled. It was her eyes that gave her away. She might have passed for human if they didn't belie her fiery origins.

Mark watched his lover dry her supple body, enjoying the sight of her small pink nipples hardening in the cool evening air and her toned butt swaying enticingly. As she toweled her hair, the tips of her nipples stood out from her pert breasts and her shaven cunt lips became visible between strong thighs.

Danielle sensed his eyes on her and, looking down at him, she smiled. Her gaze caressed his naked body. Mark knew that she had noticed that his cock had begun to stiffen just from watching her towel off.

"Do you want to play a little before you go?" she asked, dropping her towel to reveal her gorgeous body. With a nod, he allowed her to take his hand in hers and lead him to her playroom.

'Damn those eyes.' Mark thought, as once again he allowed her to lead him through the house like a dog on a leash. If not for those beautiful, cerulean orbs that seemed to look straight through him, Mark knew he wouldn't have done half of the things she asked him to do. It didn't hurt that she was everything he looked for in a woman, with her long, blonde hair fluttering behind her, and an alluring smile that graced her lips when she glanced back at him. 

When she bought the three bedroom house several years earlier, Danielle had promptly converted a spare bedroom into a playroom. Various erotic and bondage toys were stored in the playroom; most of the surfaces in the room bristled with hooks and devices for suspending her toys and lovers.

They paused just outside the door, and Danielle leaned in for a light kiss. Mark drew her close, enjoying her soft lips caressing his own. Her pale, fragile body was such a delicious contrast to his much larger frame; his hands, allowed to roam over her body, could have crushed her easily. 

Despite her diminutive size, Danielle still believed she was in control. That Mark was her pet. He supposed that was the kind of arrogance to be expected from someone descended from the gods.

Danielle had spent the last six months exploring his body, finding his limits. She had taken him to the heights of pleasure. Yet she still refused consummation of their mutual passions, leaving Mark frustrated and a little angry on more than one occasion. Despite his frustration, Mark wanted to obey her. Usually dominant, Mark marveled at the new desire, yet found that he relished the opportunity to relinquish control to the captivating woman. Despite occasional frustration, Mark had enjoyed the last six months with her.

Danielle broke contact and stepped into the room. Absently she bid him to kneel by the door while she picked the night's game. Mark complied, amused at how easily Danielle was convinced of his obedience.

In fact, Mark had decided it was time to end things. It was time to take what he had come for and move on. On his knees, awaiting Danielle's signal, Mark sighed. He never should have let himself become caught up with Danielle. She was Aesir, after all, and he was Jotan; he had been bred to destroy her. But it was hard to resist when just a brush of her soft skin or a whiff of her innocent scent reduced him to a lustful fool.

Mark might have stayed with Danielle indefinitely if it had not been for the call he felt earlier that day. Summons from his father were so rare that Mark knew that the call couldn't simply be ignored. This would have to be their last night together.

Mark hoped that it would be as good as he had imagined it would be; though, he really didn't think Danielle would disappoint him.

Oblivious to his intentions, Danielle surveyed her toys, trying to decide what she wanted to use on Mark first. She had drawn on him yesterday, so the razor-like knives that she used to etch designs into his skin were out of the question – the cuts from the previous evening needed to heal a bit before new ones were cut.

Danielle selected a pair of hard leather cuffs to bind his wrists to the chain hanging from the ceiling and a spreader bar for his knees. Danielle liked to see Mark on his knees before her with his hands bound above his head; the position kept his torso erect and his cock exposed for her amusement.

Mark smiled at her selection; they would definitely fit his purposes. Danielle motioned for Mark to crawl to the center of the room, and was shocked when, rather than complying, he rose and took her in his arms. Mark quickly wrapped his arms around Danielle's torso to prevent her from fighting him. He smiled at the irony of restraining her in a submissive position similar to the one she so enjoyed to see him in.

Though Danielle struggled to get away, Mark easily subdued her. After he bound her wrists with the leather cuffs, he attached them to the chain over head. He then swapped the rings on the spreader for smaller ones to fit her ankles, and approached from behind to fit them around her ankles, rendering the kick she tried to aim at his head ineffectual. The spreader hooked to a D-ring that Danielle had bolted to the floor a short distance from the chain. 

With her lower body secured with the spreader, Mark drew up the chain attached to the cuffs on her wrists until she was bound in the position he wanted her in. Danielle was forced to stand slightly bent over to keep from hanging by her wrists. The position was meant to keep her ass thrust out, her breasts dangling before her, and her cunt exposed. When she was completely immobilized, Mark stepped back to observe his handiwork. 

Though bound securely, Danielle was hardly the picture of submission. She had been glaring angrily at him the entire time, her eyes darkening to a violent blue, reminding him vividly of a hot flame.

When he paused, she spoke. "You do realize that I'm going to have to punish you for this," she berated. "Let me down right now and I'll go easy on you."

At that Mark laughed. "Do you really think you're in any position to be making threats?" He grabbed her chin forcing her arch her back to look up at him. "I think it's time you learned your place."

Her eyes widened. He had never spoken to her that way before. Mark had always been submissive and cowed in front of her. She knew that he could physically overpower her, but she thought him to weak-willed to even raise a hand to her. She figured she'd try a new tactic.

"Please?" she pouted. "I'll do whatever you'd like. Just please let me down."

"Mmm...as much as I'd like to see if you even know what that means, I have exactly what I want right in front of me." 

He gazed down at her face and marveled at the change he had wrought there. The lips that only moments before had boasted a self-assured smile, were now open in a slight pout. Her eyes, which had been bright and teasing, were now darkening to deep wells of fear and anger. Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her hard. He felt her resistance slip until she finally stood on her toes to return the kiss. In response, he bit her bottom lip until he tasted blood on his tongue, causing her to whimper in pain. Mark relished the sound and pulled away from Danielle with a laugh.

Panting and flushed from the struggle and his kiss, Danielle observed Mark carefully. She had no idea what had brought on Mark's new attitude, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to make her suffer.

He moved behind her to a table beyond her line of sight. She knew that the drawers under the table held an assortment of clamps, several sharp knives of different sizes, various gags, and miscellaneous other items. Above, floggers, whips, and paddles of various sizes and intensities hung from hooks she had installed on the wall.

She tried to think of something to say that would convince him to stop, but Mark's hardening cock brushed against her ass, derailing all thought. In their time together, Danielle had never let Mark touch her with his cock. Danielle had seen many friends lose the respect of a lover after yielding to him sexually. However, given her current situation, Danielle clearly didn't have as much control as she had thought she did.

Mark smiled at the reaction he elicited from her. He had been so mesmerized by the power she emanated that he had followed her silly rules. Hell, he had enjoyed letting go of the reins for a while. He had shoved the sadistic side of himself down, enjoying the unfamiliar role.

But the stirring in his blood that had been ignited earlier in the evening was too much for him to ignore. Mark knew that there was only one way to quench the blistering need he felt.

Reaching around Danielle's body, Mark pinched her left nipple, eliciting a moan that was part passion and part desperation. He palmed her right breast as he pulled her back against his body. Mark enjoyed the weight of her breast in his hand and the feel of her ass rubbing against his hard cock. It felt so good, in fact, that he was tempted to reposition and take her right there, but he restrained himself. He wanted to the experience draw out as long as possible. He knew he wouldn't be coming back.

He kissed her neck, then stepped back to pick up the blade that she had used on him the night before. The distinctive metallic noise the knife made as it left the leather sheath sent shivers down her spine. 

Danielle had told him once that she loved the sound it made, because it made her think of art drawn in blood. Despite the many times she had used the knives on others, however, Danielle had never felt them on her own skin.

Mark watched Danielle's shoulders tense in recognition; then relax into soft sobs that stirred her body in the restraints. Mark sighed in contentment; the sound was even more erotic than he had imagined it would be.

As the blood began to well up in lines across her creamy white skin, whimpers began to punctuate Danielle's tears. She gritted her teeth against the stinging pain that she felt on her back and tried to ignore the wetness between her legs.

After what felt like an eternity, Mark finally stopped to survey his handiwork. Danielle continued to whimper intermittently, which only made him want her more. He stepped into the room's adjoining to bathroom to retrieve a damp cloth. Though he knew that the lines he had etched there would quickly begin to knit together, he wanted to clean up the blood that now covered her skin.

When Danielle realized that Mark had walked away, she began to panic. She didn't want him to hurt her anymore, but she certainly didn't want him to leave her here alone either. Just as the panic began to intensify, Mark was suddenly by her side again, brushing her long blonde hair away from her face. When Danielle saw the hardness in Mark's stormy grey eyes, however, she wondered if it would have been better off for him to just leave her there.

"Are you done?" Danielle asked hopefully. She knew the answer, but hoped that the desperation in her voice would appeal to him.

He grinned and knelt down next to her to clean the mess he had made. "No, don't worry. We're just taking a little break."

Danielle shuddered at his tender touch. It contrasted so sharply with the intensity she saw in his eyes. She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his eyes. It felt as if she was drowning in his gaze. 

Danielle licked her lips, tasting the blood that had dried there. "What changed so suddenly?"

Mark suddenly growled and pushed away from her, throwing her off balance despite the restraints. Danielle heard a wet splat as the cloth he had been using landed on the bathroom floor, followed by a crack of a leather paddle against skin. 

Danielle didn't realize the skin was her own until a moment later, when the pain spreading from the backs of her thighs registered in her brain. From the moderate intensity of the impact, she knew it was the smallest of the three paddles and was glad. Mark's blows rained down on her thighs and ass. They more intense than anything she'd felt in a long time, and Danielle got the impression that her innocent question had angered him greatly.

As Mark calmed down, he began placing the strokes at irregular intervals up and down Danielle's body, causing pain to blossom suddenly in random places, followed by angry red welts. His assault was completely random, so she never knew where to expect the next blow. As a dull ache spread throughout her back and legs, Danielle thought she should have felt angry, or at least a little upset. Instead, she found herself fighting a building orgasm.

Danielle whimpered when he stopped, though it wasn't clear to her whether it was because she wanted him to continue or because she was grateful it was over. Mark had noticed that effect the pain was having on her and was intrigued. He never would have guessed that she was a woman that would get off on this kind of stimulation.

'I wonder...' He retrieved a belt from the wall and walked back to her. Mark unhooked the spreader from the ring on the floor, and pushed against Danielle's rear to indicate for her to stand. She awkwardly walked forward until she was standing upright with her arms slightly bent.

"Look at me," Mark commanded.

She looked up, breathing slowly in an attempt to calm her arousal. Mark recognized the desire in her eyes, but forced himself to wait. Mark stepped close enough to feel Danielle's breath on his skin. Her breasts heaved slightly with the effort of her breathing.

"Do you want to come?" he taunted.

She bit her lip, nodded.

He placed his left hand under her chin, forcing her to continue looking up at him. He wanted to see it in her eyes. The thin belt in Mark's other hand lashed out toward Danielle's exposed cunt and connected with the sensitive lips. She cried out and tried to jerk away, but his hand locked around her throat, holding her in place. The second strike of the belt landed on her clit, shattering her control and bringing the climax she had been resisting.

As the orgasm ebbed away, Danielle sagged against her bonds. Mark quickly released her from the ankle and wrist cuffs, and caught her before she collapsed at his feet. Danielle's golden hair fell haphazardly around her battered body, as Mark swung her into his arms and carried her down the hall to the master bedroom. As they made their way down the hall, Mark sent a thin tendril of consciousness into her mind and sent her into a light slumber.

Mark felt a smug sense of satisfaction at his ability to bring her the pleasure she so often denied herself. He promised himself that he fan the flames of sexual excitement in her so that she would never again be chained by self-denial.

Mark laid his lover on the bed and covered her with a light sheet. Sitting on the bed, he studied her now serene face. He was beginning to understand why his people had taken hers as slaves for so many centuries. He wished he could take her with him.

Sighing, Mark slipped in beside Danielle's sleeping form, being careful not to wake her. He traced the runes he had etched on her back with the tip of his finger and enjoyed the little noises she made in her sleep. Mark wished he had sought her bed more often over the past months, if only to have heard those little sighs.

'Oh well,' he thought. 'There's no going back now.'





When Mark decided that Danielle had rested long enough, he flung back the sheet to expose her supple body. Mark eyed her ass appreciatively, but rolled her over and straddled her hips. He bent to take one of Danielle's nipples in his mouth, roughly running his thumb over the other until it formed a hard nub. Danielle tensed below him, realizing that the playroom had just been warm up. Once he had her attention, Mark bit down on the nipple in his mouth.

Mark's teeth on her right nipple caused a jagged pain which seemed to radiate through her. Though her brain screamed at her to resist him, Danielle found herself running her hands through his hair and pushing her body eagerly against his. Danielle could feel Mark's cock between them where it lay on her stomach. She wondered absently what he would feel like inside of her. Danielle felt a slight twinge of fear and excitement at the thought of him inside her for the first time. 

It had been a long time since Danielle had had sex last. Now that she thought about it, it had been a week since she had even had an orgasm. She worried a little that, being out of practice, Mark would be disappointed with her. Danielle hoped that the old adage about riding a bike would hold true in this case.

Danielle moaned as Mark replaced the teeth on her nipple with his tongue. Mark licked the sensitized bud lightly, enjoying the noises he was eliciting from her. He switched to the other nipple, which he had been torturing between his thumb and forefinger.

It was such a turn on for Mark to finally hear Danielle making noises of pleasure because of something he had done. For months, he had respected her need for both dominance and space. Every night, he had watched her trail off to bed alone, then listened to her pleasure herself, knowing that the solitary orgasms often left her more frustrated than she had been to start with.

Mark had felt a desire to protect her from everything, especially from himself. It was a feeling he had never encountered before, though it was currently being over-ridden by his lust. He could feel his desire rising as tangibly as Danielle could feel his hard cock pressed between their bodies. Under the desire, though, was something darker, something Mark struggled to protect her from.

Mark shifted back to rub his cock between their bodies, brushing Danielle's crotch.

"Oh, God," Danielle moaned. "Why didn't we do this before now?"

Laughing, Mark kissed his way up her chest to the side of her neck. "Does that really matter, my dear?" He disentangled her fingers from his hair and grasped her wrists tightly over her head. "All that matters is that I'm finally taking what I came for." 

Danielle turned her head, and kissed him more deeply than ever before.

Pulling away, she breathed, "I really don't get you."

With his free hand, Mark brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her again. When Mark pulled back from the kiss, his eyes had changed. Though they were still slate grey, the pupils had been reduced to vertical slits like serpents' eyes. 

Danielle remembered the dreams that had recurred for the last six months. In the dreams, a hunter lay on top of her, staring at her with those eyes. She could never remember anything he said or did, but those eyes had haunted her. And now she was staring into them, suddenly able to remember what the hunter had done in her dreams.

Mark had felt the change happening, but his arousal was making it hard for him to control his form. When Danielle noticed his appearance, her arousal was quickly swept away under the crushing weight of fear. She began screaming and trying to get away, but Mark was significantly stronger and easily pinned her down with his body.

He leaned back a little and slapped her face, momentarily stunning her so that he could situate himself between her legs. When Danielle's eyes came back into focus, Mark began caressed her, eliciting a whimper of fear.

Danielle was terrified. "Who are you?" she asked.




Perchance to Dream



She knew what he was. Her people had been hunted by his kind for centuries, but she had always managed to evade the beasts. Danielle couldn't believe that she had invited one into her home; that she had nearly begged him to fuck her.

"Don't worry," Mark responded. "I've decided I'm not going to kill you. You have nothing to fear. However, I'm not leaving here without coming inside of you just once."

"Go to hell," Danielle spat in his face, eyes flashing.

"Darling, I've been to hell. It's really not as bad as you think," Mark replied calmly. "Besides, you've dreamt about this for months, you should know that it doesn't end here." Danielle's eyes widened and he continued. "You know exactly what's going to happen don't you, my little angel?"

Danielle's response to the taunt was cut off by a moan as Mark began fingering her clit. 

Amused he leaned close to her face and breathed, "Yes, I think you've known for weeks that this was going to happen. I think you want it to happen, otherwise you would have left."

Though Danielle shook her head no, her body betrayed her. It wasn't long before Mark's attention to her clit had her writhing in pleasure beneath him.

"Please," she begged, though she had no clue what she was begging for.

"Please what?" Mark teased. "Tell me what you want." 

He took his hand away leaving her bereft and needy. Danielle whimpered at the sudden loss of his touch.

"Please." Her pleas were becoming more desperate.

Mark began teasing Danielle with his cock. He rubbed the head up and down her wet slit, occasionally brushing against her clit. Each time, her body tensed beneath him, just short of her climax.

He bit the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock inside me!" Danielle moaned, thrusting her hips forward.

Mark resumed his assault on her clit, bringing her closer and closer to an orgasm. She screamed as he entered her for the first time. Her back arched; her hips rolled toward him; silent tears ran down her perfect face. The sudden feeling of him filling her cunt was enough to push her over the edge.

He knew that his cold skin was painful to her kind, just as her hot cunt around his cock felt as though he was thrusting into a bed of coals. Mark also knew that Danielle enjoyed the pain as much as he did.

Mark was afraid that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. As Mark's climax neared he stared down into Danielle's eyes, allowing her a glimpse of his internal struggle. She had heard stories from her people about what could happen if he lost control. There was a reason the two races didn't mate, even when they were on good terms.

It was her eyes, those clear blue pools, that were his undoing. The fear so clearly reflected in her face, the fear he knew he had put there, was too much for his true form to resist. That tremble in her lip, the twitch in her thigh, he knew it was time.

As he came inside her, Mark's true form came roaring to the surface. Although he quickly pushed away from her, his claws tore through the thin skin of her wrists. Mark panicked at the sight of Danielle's blood flowing from the deep gouges he had made. Danielle pressed the wounds close to her body, and tried to stem the flow of blood with the sheets of her bed. 

Swallowing hard, Danielle looked up at the beast her lover had become. Then, watched in terror as Mark fled through the window and out into the night.

Danielle didn't think she'd make it to the phone.



Thanks go out to the editor, sdbnnc.



Perchance...To Dream



Two strangers, two lives, intertwined by the strangest of circumstances, chance perhaps, destiny certain. This is their tale...

I'd lived in New York City all my life, the hustle, the bustle as much a part of me as the blood that ran through my veins. Mostly, I had let the city pass me by, content to observe rather than to partake, at least until now. I know not why I found myself in Central Park that day, only that the desire to do something, anything to keep my life from continuing down the path of loneliness and the despair it offered me had drawn me there. Thus, the story begins.

Walking through the park, seeing all the people at leisure, at play I listened to the many sounds of laughter, excitement, minstrels, even the distant strings of a lover's quarrel, all adding up to the cacophony of auditory delights which overwhelmed the senses. It was so intoxicating that I found myself nearly colliding with a young woman who stood her ground, a slight smile on her face as I barely sidestepped the possible collision only to have her say, "Thank you m'lord, I feared our paths would cross in a most untimely fashion."

I looked at her obviously puzzled and she had to fight to stifle her grin while saying, "I'm sorry but I'm practicing, are you here for the open audition?" Once again my face must have shown my confusion as she pointed at the sign; the picture a silhouette of two lovers, the ancient prose of the Shakespearian tale Romeo and Juliet, scripts piled high upon a table. The dark haired woman looked at me, her smile wide as she spoke, "Each year the park puts on a play, all the actors and actresses are picked among the inhabitants of the city, the only qualification being they can not be members of the actor's guild, each of them has to be an amateur."

In the past I had done my part, serving as stage manager for a long forgotten high school play, the memories though brief still bringing a smile to my face. I tried desperately to remember the name, the face of the young woman who I had worshipped from afar, the star of my own youthful desires and visions at night in the darkness of my dreams. I shook my head, trying to clear it as I heard a voice say, "Why don't you join me, it might be fun?" 

I shook my head as I replied softly, "I'm certainly no love struck teenager, not exactly the fit for such a work as this miss." 

A voice came from behind me as I turned to see a rather portly older gentleman who huffed, "That's precisely the point, I'm not looking to put on the same old tired production. This will be different, completely unique in its style and presence. Age is and never should be an issue when it comes to art."

"My vision shows a cast of characters who will not meet until they set foot on stage that opening night. It will add an element of danger, of pushing the envelope of modern theatre. It will be as new and refreshing for the players as it will be for the audience." He handed me a script, almost pushing me toward the stage as he said, page 24, act one, scene seven, it's only a dry reading but let's see what you two have to offer." I started to argue, to hand the book back but he quickly turned, walking over to his seat while muttering, "Let's begin, we don't have all day you know." The woman who I had first encountered took my hand, pulling me onto the stage, my face I'm sure reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights, hopelessly lost.

The tried and true version of the two star-crossed lovers and their expression of their affection for the others made the reading a bit more bearable, the words a faint reminder from a long forgotten English class. I listened as Juliet; a rather emotional rendering of such, threw herself into the part with all the intensity of a bull stampeding through the streets of Pamplona. I on the other hand would mumble in reply, self consciously stammering and stuttering my way through the ordeal until the director had finally decided he had heard enough. The dark haired beauty bounded toward me, her hand taking mine as she almost drug me over to the table where we were forced to fill out index cards with our pertinent contact information. I assured her she had been a wonderful Juliet, her eyes pleading to hear such words only to have her give me a final smile and with a wave of her hand she was gone.

It was only then that I looked out to see quite a few others now milling about, each with aspirations of stardom and I sighed, my steps soon leaving me walking away, not even noticing that I still had a copy of the play in hand. By the time I returned to my humble abode, I was weary, my mind having run rampant with visions of that afternoon, hearing words of affection which I knew though were only such and wondering how it would feel to experience such in real life, keenly aware that in all probability, no such thing would happen. As I sipped a glass of wine, my eyes caught the sight of the written word which I picked up, seating myself at the window and began to read anew. The hours past, the alcohol consumed and with it the dream, so real, so lifelike, as if it surely happened...

The ringing of the phone that night woke me, the empty wine glass and the script having slipped from its perch, falling to the floor. I managed to shake the cobwebs from my head as I answered, the voice on the other end blustery saying, "I must be honest with you good sir, never in the pages of the theatre have I ever witnessed a worse Romeo interpretation than that which you forced me to endure this day." I started to argue, to explain how I wasn't even supposed to have been there only to listen in amazement as he said, "That is precisely why I have selected you to play the part. If I can mold you, a completely clean slate into the vision I have then my accomplishment will speak for itself, don't you agree?" 

I didn't have time to agree, nor protest, his voice only saying, "Learn your lines, return to the park Friday afternoon at five, we'll block out the set, confirm wardrobe and we open Saturday night. Don't be late and do not disappoint me sir" and with that the line went dead and I knew precisely how it felt. I wished for the poison and the relief that death might bring rather than to face the possibility which lay ahead. The bottle of wine had barely been touched but that night it took little time, nor effort to drink its contents and fall into an alcohol induced slumber. My dreams were filled with the sounds of laughter and ridicule, the pathetic figure on stage being pointed out as a buffoon and when I woke Sunday morning it was to sweat filled sheets and the feeling of impending doom. 

The week was a blur, days filled with work, nights with the pages of the story. Self esteem or a lack of it had been the cornerstones for a foundation which I could feel crumble ever so slowly as the time progressed until Friday afternoon came and I found myself at the scene of the crime. I'd almost worked myself into lather, ready to tell the effervescent auditor of the absurdity of his decision only to have him greet me with a wide smile, his hands outstretched in welcome and as always, I felt myself crawl back into the too familiar shell of shyness combined with silence. "Well my good man, let's make some magic, shall we?" I forced a bit of a smile as my own worst nightmare began to unfurl right in front of my eyes.

He was as good as his word, all of the different players, participants in the next night's extravaganza not knowing of the other's parts to be played. The walk through or blocking out of the play was done with the various lighting and technical people while we all watched from in front of the stage. I saw the dark haired woman, her eyes raptly taking in the view before her, lost in her own world and I wondered what role she had been granted, wondering if the stage would be big enough for another, the only genuine smile of the night filling my face as I envisioned it. It was only when the curtain came down that the men and women were parted, each sent into a nearby tent for fittings and preparations for the night now almost 24 hours away.

None of us was singled out, each receiving the same attention, costumes of varying degrees tried on only to finally be told that our presence was no longer needed that night. As we all began to make our way from the confines of the structures, you could see many of them with furtive glances trying to determine in what guise they would view the others when they next met. As for myself, I had always found it difficult if not impossible to meet the gaze of a woman and the thought that I would be forced to do so in front of others had left me with a deep desire for a drink, as many as I could consume to be precise. 

I'm not quite sure how I found myself at home that next day, the light shining brightly through my bedroom window. I had partaken far too heavily from the offers of the bar which I had stumbled into after that night's ordeal. I felt the effects of the libations I had consumed in the drumbeat that was my head, sitting on the edge of the bed only to force my eyes open and see that it was already afternoon, a chilling effect like that of a cold shower forcing me back to reality. I spent what little remaining time in preparation, like a condemned man watching the clock, the seconds flying like minutes, the minutes turning into hours until I found myself hailing a cab, not trusting my own legs to support me on the journey to my appointed execution.

Once again I was greeted by the gregarious figure that was the director, his eyes shining though his breath carried the distinct aroma of brandy. "Come along my good man, we have prepared a place just for you and your lady in waiting." From there he half marched me toward a separate tent, away from the masses, carefully assuring that no one took notice, a sly look on his face as he was greatly amused by his own deception. Parting the cloth, the opening to the structure, I saw two separate partitions, on the left women scurrying about, on the right, a table filled with makeup and sort, clothes hanging in preparation as I felt the familiar strings of panic begin to stir within. I would have turned and ran but I was not given the opportunity as he boldly announced, "Ladies, your Romeo awaits" as he motioned for me to sit.

It was like being in a dream, hands pulling you this way and then that way. Clothing being removed, new garments being donned. Makeup being applied, hair being coiffured, the murmur of words being spoken though nothing in reality being heard until the sight of the rotund man reappearing, his nose red, and his obvious case of nerves having been fed heavily. I wish like him that I could be nearing oblivion but not even the strongest drink could have possibly quelled the feeling within, my body and my mind both reeling, a punch drunk fighter prior to the bout even starting, all in anticipation. His words were slurred, his movements jerky as he proclaimed, "My masterpiece is about to begin, they will come for you shortly, now leave these two so that they might prepare" and with that the minions fled the scene and the night grew silent.

Sitting there, looking into the mirror, seeing the sight of the man who looked so differently from the reflection that I would gaze at each day I heard a soft sigh escape another's lips, a voice barely above a whisper say, "I don't know why he would think I would be capable of doing this, I've never done anything right, ever." 

I could feel the tremor in her voice, the pain and nervousness which filled her thoughts, my heart, my soul crying out in unison the same. "I know. I don't know why he picked me, unless it's his idea of some kind of cruel joke, watching the fool...", my head hung down, my spirits, my own self doubt crashing like waves on the shore.

For a moment, a brief second in time I thought I could disappear into the shadows, I could leave this place and never return but then I heard that same soft voice this time saying, "Perhaps it's not up to us, perhaps it's up to others to look inside of us and see that which dwells within. Where we find ourselves lacking, others see potential. We stay in the darkness for it is easy to do so, to keep ourselves from enduring the pain that the alternative might bring, never knowing that in doing so, we doom not only ourselves but others who would desire to see us in such light." 

The words so prophetic, so powerfully spoken though barely spoken above a whisper. I found my own voice speaking in reply. "To dare dream of such is a temptation I have never dared risk for in doing so it would take great faith and in that I fear I am sorely lacking." 

I watched as a hand slipped from between the folds of the partition, red fingernails gleaming, white lace half gloves covering it, reaching out for some sort of connection, a sign of trust and I took the hand, feeling both of ours tremble. I took strength in that touch, in that moment, my eyes closing, lost in the feeling and it was then that I heard her say, "I will have faith in you good sir." 

The voice that came in reply, though mine in speaking was different from any I had ever heard before as I spoke, "And I will have faith in you m'lady, this I swear." 

With that came the sound of another announcing, "It's time."

The bright lights which shone, reflecting back the throng which had gathered illuminated little, especially not the vision I wished to see. The woman who walked alongside the man who even now was ushering us to the stage wore a hood, a cloak which prevented me from seeing the beauty within. From there we were separated, each going to their respective locales, each to await the moment and seconds later I took the stage, my voice again as it had through the strength she had imparted speaking, "Is the day so young?" and with the gentleman playing the role of Benvolio's reply the stage was set and the game was afoot. All I knew for sure as the play unfolded was that there would come a time, a moment and as it drew near I waited in breathless anticipation finally to say...

If I profane with my unworthiest hand 

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

As I had said, I was no teenager and she, she was no child either. She was a woman, a beautiful woman, her hair of gold falling in curls past her shoulders, her body encased in the ornaments of old yet still unable to hide that which it held within, the possibility of great pleasures, of boundless desires fulfilled. It was in her eyes though that I found myself lost, her gaze meeting mine, hers shining with the promise which she had given me and in its reflection, mine which I had spoke to her. I listened as in reply she spoke confidently, passionately while saying...

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this; 

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

I knew not the effect she had on those in attendance, not knowing that the crowd was enraptured, seeing the connection between two people so evident to all except for themselves. As the story unfolded, each knowing the ending and the tragedy that would finally play out, you could feel the two tortured souls, in their words, in their actions become even more intertwined. As I drank the bitter liquid, feeling the burn of the poison which would race through my system, I felt the pain of loss, not so much for a life ending but for one never having dared to begin, my life.

As I lay there, my body at rest I heard the words, the anguish which poured forth from the beauty who I shared the moment with, her voice too portraying a heart breaking, a desire to continue no longer without that which she desired most. As the dagger pierced her heart, her body fell, her hand outstretched, clasping mine and it took every ounce of will power not to grasp it in reply for fear it would disappear into the night, a dream, a fantasy. 

It was only moments later that the stage went dark, the sound of applause filling the air as I pulled myself up, letting my hand reach out, offering it once again. This time when she took it, I was able to gaze upon her visage, seeing her eyes like mine filled with tears, not as much though from the parting of two souls in the story which we had helped to unfold but from the finding of two, together. As others lined up to take their bows, the two of us crept toward the back of the stage, into the darkness, blending into the night as we strode away from the throng. 

The grip we had on each others hands were tight, the bond strong as we finally came to a clearing, my arms pulling her in close, savoring the feeling like that of a fine wine. Her hair like a breath of fresh air, the scent filling me as I closed my eyes and with the same, strong confident voice she had bestowed on me not so long ago I whispered in her ear, "I do have faith in you m'lady." 

Her hold became even tighter in reply, her words following, "As I do you m'lord...as I do you." With that we kissed, two hearts, two souls, two lives...a new play being written, a new story of love to unfold, ready to be told.

THE END



Perchance to Dream



"Oh... Oh... Oh yeah... Oh God... Oh fuck... Fuck... Fuck me... FUCK MEEEEE!!!!"

His hard rod impales me and I beg for more. In and out he pistons as I push back to meet him. His heavy balls slap against my thighs each time he thrusts forward. Nothing exists but the incredible pleasure. It builds like a tidal wave. Slowly, inexorably it builds, until it finally crests. My orgasm breaks over me and the world explodes.

I wake exhausted and alone in my apartment. My nightgown and panties are soaked. The room smells of sex.

It's the same dream that I've been having for as long as I can remember. The details change but the man never does. I have no idea who the man is and it doesn't matter. All that matters, all that ever matters, is the huge slab of meat between his legs. That glorious cock and what it does to me.

I might be at a party or a dance club. It could happen in the library or a subway car. The place is unimportant, but it is always public.

I feel someone come up behind me. Powerful hands grab my waist. Hot breath blows over my ear and his tongue caresses my earlobe as he gently sucks it into his mouth. His face presses into my long dark hair, he inhales my fresh, clean scent. My nipples harden and I begin to get wet as his hands travel up and reach around to cup my full breasts. I feel the hardness at his crotch stir where it nestles against my ass when he feels that I am not wearing a bra. A gasp escapes me as he tweaks a nipple with his left hand while the right traces down my taut belly towards the juncture of my thighs. He lifts the hem of my skirt and I feel his erection stiffen even further as he finds no panties to obstruct his fingers from gliding over my clean-shaven pussy and sliding between my soaking folds as my legs part to allow him access to my most private of places. I moan as he massages my clit and his fingers begin to probe further into my body. I grind my ass back against his crotch to encourage him. He stops.

He removes his hands and pulls back. I let out a cry of protest and try to reach back to grab his hands. Instead, he grabs my arms and pushes me forward. As he bends me over I hear a zipper being undone and a shiver runs up my spine as he raises the back of my skirt. A cold breeze blows over my naked ass and cunt as they are exposed to the world. I feel a pressure between my legs as he presses the bulbous head of his magnificent cock against the opening to my womb. For a moment there is resistance as his impressive girth momentarily delays entry, but the lubrication of his oozing precum mixing with the moisture leaking from me soon do their job and my lips part to engulf the invader. His massive organ slides easily into my dripping canal, filling me fuller than I had ever imagined, as his hips press tight against my ass. Once more his hands reach around to fondle my tits and I mew as he pinches my diamond hard nipples through the thin blouse. Now totally in control, he grasps my hips and begins to slowly stroke in and out. Faster and faster, the pace increases, until finally I feel his balls contract. His cock spasms once, twice, three times and he empties his seed inside me. As I feel his warm cum flood my needy hole, my head flies back and my back arches as I stiffen and a massive orgasm washes over me.

The whole time he has never said a word. I stand there, legs spread, leaning forward, as the mixed juices of out tryst leak out of me onto the floor. As I catch my breath and come back to myself he zips up and slips away. I can never tell who it was. Only my flushed face, rumpled clothes and the sticky fluids slowly leaking down my legs remain as evidence of the torrid encounter.

All of this is running through my head again as I shower. I wash off the smell of stale tobacco from the club last night, paying special attention to my hair. I run my hands over my body massaging my breasts as I wash. As my soapy hands run over and between my legs I feel the first signs of returning hair. Lathering up, I take the razor and carefully remove any traces of stubble, until everything is once more perfectly soft and smooth. I dry myself and brush out my hair while I consider what I will be doing this morning. Walking nude to the closet, I select a short, loose skirt and sheer blouse. It's just a short trip by subway to the library.