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Thesandman: Dream Walker

By: Many Feathers



Authors note: As very special favor for some very special friends, I've been asked to resubmit a couple of my older stories once listed under Thesandman. It is not my intention to submit all or many of my older works, but for those who have truly supported and appreciated my writing over the years, I have relented to do so. Additionally, I will not turn voting on for any of these, as they have had their moment in the sun so to speak.

But for those of you who've asked: Resubmitted 

The Sandman, "Dream-Walker"

Long ago when I was very young, my Grandfather once told me about "Dream-walkers". I didn't fully understand then the meaning of that, or what it meant until much later in my life. But he told me that being able to Dream Walk wasn't a generational ability, though it had manifested itself down the family line from time to time. It had been a long time since a Dream-Walker had been borne, but as I had been having dreams, which were more like out of body experiences, he had told me this was a good sign that perhaps I might in fact be one, and eventually learn the secrets of Dream Walking and what that would eventually mean.

Sometimes when I dreamed, I would see what I could only describe as a thin blue colored shimmering curtain. When I parted that curtain, walking through it, I entered a realm of sparkling lights surrounded by total darkness, a void that was infinite. Over time I learned that I could go to any one of those lights in the blink of an eye, no matter how far or distant it seemed. The twinkling lights became bubbles, not unlike those we have all created at one time or another with a mixture of soapy water and a cheap plastic dipper that we blew on to form the type of bubble's that existed in this world of dreams. I learned that small bubbles were simple dreams of children, and that the larger the bubbles, the older the person was who might be found there dreaming. As I learned, explored, and eventually came to know, color's signified the types of dreams a person was having or experiencing. Through trial and error, exploration and experience gained in my occasional nocturnal excursions, I found that bubble's, which had a purplish tinted color to them, were usually those of people who were having some sort of sexual dream. The deeper the color, the more erotic, and so on. I also discovered that once I had visited a particular individual, I could return to them anytime I liked, instantaneously, regardless of the thousands, tens of thousands of sparkling bubble lights that seemed to hover nearby any one of them I had visited previously. The first time I had made this particular discovery was quite by accident, but it was the springboard for what I can only say became a near constant obsession for me afterwards whenever I found myself in the "void", and dream walking.

As I had learned, I could slip inside someone's bubble, someone's dream. In that instant, I took on shape, became apart of whatever it was the person was dreaming about, including their surroundings. I became then apart of their dream experience. 

We all know how disjointed dreams can sometimes be. People, places, even situations can suddenly change in the blink of an eye without rhyme or reason. And being apart of someone else's dream, when you haven't learned how to control that, can be a little eerie.

I had just slipped inside a young woman's bubble dream. At the time I had not yet fully learned the various shades and colors that implied what type of dream a person or individual was having. I had picked this particular bubble as it seemed closest to me, and the color was a light shade of violet, which I was attracted to for his alluring beauty more than anything else. I eased through the outer wall of the bubble, and suddenly found myself standing in a young woman's bedroom. She was sitting at some sort of vanity desk preening her self and brushing her long blonde flowing hair. She was wearing a sheer white nightgown that did little if anything to conceal her womanly charms, and I judged her to be in her late teens by all appearances. I had not moved after just entering her dream, but realized if she turned in the slightest, she would see me, or at least in my mind, I felt somehow that she would. Spotting an area of concealment next to her canopied bed, I envisioned myself hidden away behind it, and suddenly I was. There was a brief moment however when the young woman perhaps sensed my presence and turned to face and look in the direction where I had first been standing. In that moment, her hair changed from the long golden blonde it had been to a much shorter dirty blonde coloring. Additionally the white night gown had also disappeared, and she as sitting now in a well-worn, ill-fitting pair of baggy pajamas instead. Spotting herself in the mirror this way, once again the image shimmered and returned to the way she had obviously first imagined herself to have been when I first entered her room. She quickly finished brushing her long blonde hair, then stood. A mirror suddenly appeared behind the door where it had not been previously. She walked towards it, and as she did so the white nightgown suddenly dissolved so that she as now standing in front of it totally nude. I watched her turn, studying herself in her reflection.

I inwardly smiled to myself. As the young woman turned, I noticed her breasts suddenly enlarge, they grew to enormous proportions initially, but then as she continued to turn studying herself in the mirror, they seemed to go through a wide myriad of changes and shapes. She finally settled on breasts not too far differently than what I had first seen nestled beneath the confines of that sheer white gown. They were perhaps a bit more perky, nipple's which were now slightly upturned at an angle, than as they'd originally been and perhaps a bit fuller in shape as well. Satisfied with this new image, she looked at herself and suddenly a much tighter firmer tummy appeared, she didn't do anything that I could see or notice to change the appearance of her neatly trimmed pubic patch, except perhaps to lighten the coloring to more closely resemble the hair on her head. Once again, she turned to view her new self at all angles within the floor length mirror. Satisfied she smiled, and then I watched as she slipped a hand slowly and gently down between her legs.

I was totally unprepared for what happened next. Still too new to understanding what Dream Walking was all about, or of the possible dangers or side effects to having invaded someone else's dream, I became disoriented momentarily as the girl suddenly disappeared and the room and surroundings changed. I was no longer hidden, or standing beside her bed, but found myself standing out in the open once again. Thankfully however, my presence remained undiscovered. 

Glancing around me, the room had turned into a magnificent field of brightly colored flowers. Bright sunshine, warm and delightful fell upon me. The young woman was still only a few feet away, but thankfully now engaged with a young man as they lay atop a blanket spread atop the wild grass and flowers of the meadow I now found myself standing in. I quickly dropped down, envisioned the grass high enough to conceal me, and thankfully it did. I was learning, and quickly. But it was obvious I still had much to learn yet about Dream Walking and all that it entailed. 

In my newfound concealment, I continued to watch her now as she lay beneath the man who had suddenly joined us both. There was something vaguely familiar about him, though I could not initially place who he was, or where I had seen him before. It was only when she was obviously in the throes of ecstasy, close to achieving orgasm did she call out his name, which I only then recognized as being a young actor of recent rise to stardom and fame amongst the younger set. 

I watched him make love to her, watched him kissing her and caressing her with wild unabandoned passion, watched as his extremely thick long erect penis filled her, moving in and out of her so smoothly and so slowly, obviously pleasing her in exactly the way she had wanted him to do, or in this case, was without specific words, having him do.

Once again, as he kissed and suckled her breasts, they seemed to grow to even slightly larger proportions. Even her nipples grew fatter, more elongated, and he cupped them in his hands and told her how beautiful her breasts were, and how he enjoyed touching them and playing with them. 

It was when things had seemed to go past that wild climatic ending I had watched and observed, that I realized how precarious my situation actually was. Once again the meadow seemed to be shimmering as though fading away. The famous young actor dissolved away into nothingness, and the young woman once again resting comfortably atop her own bed, hair back to the short dish-water blonde color I had seen it, and wearing the same faded worn pajama's I had startled her back into wearing once previously. 

Worse, where I had been only moments ago half kneeling, half lying in a tall patch of grass, I suddenly found myself in that same position, but now fully exposed in the middle of her bedroom floor with no place to hide. I worriedly glanced about for an exit way, and immediately spotted her bedroom door, only now it wasn't the door really, but that shimmering blue vale of light from this dream back into the void from which I'd come. Having no choice, I stood and bolted for the door, heard a shrill scream arise from her as I rose and departed, though not looking back as I did, and managed within seconds to literally dive through the opening. That scream, her scream was cut off abruptly the moment I reentered the void. I saw the path in which I had come; somehow it lingered in a shimmering effervescence of its own, guiding me back through the void, back to my own dream sphere, my own bubble. I soon pushed against the thin layer and slipped through and immediately awoke.

It was morning, and as the new days sunlight peeked through the half parted curtains of my window, I wondered how the young woman would think upon, or possibly explain away the strange encounter, the strange dream she had experienced. What had started out, or been for her an erotic fantasy of making love to someone she obviously admired, even had a romantic crush on perhaps, had turned into an unexplainable nightmare at the end. For that I felt a little guilty, as it had not been my intention for that to happen. But I am sure that she no doubt would remember when she awoke, the strange memory of some strange man she had never seen before, running from the middle of her bedroom through her bedroom door. Perhaps it would be at best a fragmented thought, something she would discard as easily as she first recalled it upon awakening. But I had learned much in this Dream-Walk, and that was, that I still had much more to learn. I could manipulate a person's dream to some extent, obviously become apart of it myself. Something I would have to be careful with in doing, if in fact I ever did. Secondly, I had no control of another person's dreams; I could just as easily be swept away or encompassed into whatever situation that person might fantasize or dream about. And I still had no idea as yet how that might actually impact upon a person's waking thoughts or memories of their past nights dreaming. Was that significant? Or not? 

Dream Walking was for me not an automatic thing either. I wasn't able to control it, or do it every night. But when I did sleep, and when I did see that blue shimmering vale of light, I was very much aware of the void on the other side, and new that I could enter it then and venture out into the world of dreams. I was careful after that, sometimes peeking in, just inside a person's dream bubble, like a hazy thought just on the edge of someone's sub consciousness, lingering in the shadows like a forgotten memory or a thought...I was, "it's just on the tip of my tongue" in a sense, Knowing it was there...that I was there, but not quite grasping what it was exactly.

As I continued with my nightly excursions, I gained knowledge. One of the most important aspects of which was that I could control who I was or how I actually did appear to the person's dreams I invaded. It was a simple process really. Once I had discovered whom the person was that was actually dreaming, if there were more than one person within the dream, it was easy for me to "assume" the identity of the other whoever that may be. I simply saw myself as that person, and immediately took on their looks; mannerism's and speech even, though I had found in several dreams to my surprise, that there wasn't as much vocal communication actually taking place as one might actually imagine. It was a world of thoughts as much as anything else. Thoughts that were directed, picked up, acted upon as though having actually been spoken. And that was something else that took some getting used to. But with those projected thoughts, I learned much from them as well. I learned very quickly what was hoped for, or expected of me as though prearranged, choreographed ahead of time. Almost like walking into a scripted play, or an ongoing movie reel that could be played over and over again if the dreamer so desired it to be. I knew my lines then, almost ahead of time, and if I stayed within that context, went along exactly as I was supposed to, the dreamer, never felt or sensed anything differently, or out of the ordinary. Occasionally, when I strayed from that, or interjected anything differently, I noticed then that the dreamer seemed to pause as though struggling with the sudden unexpected change, and was not quite aware of how to respond to it. In these instances, natural normal everyday surroundings suddenly took shape, appearances became more closely associated to the persons real world and real self.

I had ventured out into the void, found a particularly interesting shaded bubble off in the distance and immediately headed for it. I took the time needed to acquaint myself with as much information as possible before joining the dream. I had learned previously that by throwing out simple 'thought-questions' I could in moments worth of time learn enough to know about the person of whom the dreamer was imagining. It was a necessary step and process in order to become that person, to be able to interact and go along with the flow of the dreamers' desires without upsetting the expected and natural flow of events. 

And so it was that I came to know a very few special women, many of which I would visit with frequently and often. The first of which was Barbara.

She was, even in her dreams, her real natural looking self. And I liked that. She didn't try to pretend or be anyone other than the person she was in the waking world. But she was a different "acting" person in the dream world as opposed to the erotic world she sometimes found herself visiting. I had been drawn quite by chance; quite by random curiosity to her dream sphere that first night. Entering through her bubble, I had watched and observed her, saw as well as felt a long hidden longing for a particular individual. A man she had desired sought after for quite sometime without ever having told him that she felt the way she did about him. Only in her dreams of course. 

When I first encountered Barbara, she was standing in what appeared to be an elegant sitting room of an elaborate hotel suite. She was pacing around the room somewhat nervously, anxiously as though waiting for someone to finally arrive. I shared her thoughts then, preparing myself for the part I would play in the scripted scenario of her dream. I quickly learned that she was awaiting the arrival of a man with whom she had had a very brief one time only encounter; it had not even culminated in their being together, a few very brief stolen kisses, passionate frantic embraces and caresses which had brought them both to the brink of finally consummating their encounter together. She had at the last moment pushed him away however and terminated afterwards any possibility of their ever being together after that. He was, her sisters' husband. 

I waited until within the dream, he finally knocked. She had expected it of course, knowing exactly where it was she would be when he did knock. Barbara had in fact picked up the glass of wine that suddenly appeared on the table. She'd sipped it, and looked towards the door just a fraction of a second before the knock even came. She bid him to come in then, and he did. I took a moment to scrutinize him, place the physical of him firmly in my own mind, and then waited out the opportunity when I would step in and take over his part.

"You shouldn't have come." Barbara told him. "I told you we should never meet, never could ever take that risk. I shouldn't have told you I'd even be here visiting. That was my mistake and one in which I regret now having done."

I saw her turn slightly her back towards him as she ventured off towards the balcony, and in that moment, I became Andrew. I waited my next move, my next line as it suddenly came to me. Knowing now exactly how it was that I was to respond, what I was to say and do. I smiled inwardly, anxiously. I was excited.

She was a self-made woman of means. By her looks, she was in her mid fifty's perhaps even early sixty's though she certainly didn't look it. Even her dark colored hair, had only the faintest traces of gray etched in it, and not enough to detract from her still young looking face to belie her true age.

I knew I was to approach her from behind and throw my arms around her as she stepped out into the night onto the balcony. I knew then as well, I was to kiss and nuzzle her neck and be prepared then for her breakaway from me.

"Andrew. No. We can't you know that."

I was no more than fifty years of age, perhaps less even. I knew suddenly that I was married to her sister and had been for several years now. And I also knew as the memory of a night perhaps a year or so ago entered my mind, that she had wanted me, loved me even from the first time she'd ever seen me.

"No one but you and I will ever know." I retorted, once again going towards her. She had of course broken away from me, as I knew that she would. I had already seen all that and more in my minds eye. And I was expected, as well as directed to approach her again, which of course I did.

When I had first placed my arms around her and attempted to hug her to me, I had discovered in that simple act that she was obviously wearing nothing at all beneath the elegant silk gown that she was wearing. It was intended that I would of course, and I did.

The cool night air had hardened her nipples and as she turned around once again to face me, I saw them pressing against the tight smooth material of her elegantly designed garment. She knew I was gazing at her, looking at them hardening even more so, and she crossed her arms across her breasts.

"I agreed to see you. But only long enough to tell you to your face that we cannot ever again place ourselves in such a compromising position. I love my sister....and you, too much to ever want to do anything that would hurt or even possibly destroy either of you."

The sensation of actually leaving then came to me. I knew she was expecting, it was scripted, that I would stand there silently for a moment longer, would turn finally, and that I would then leave. She would go to her bed sometime afterwards, and fantasize about "Andrew" making love to her while she masturbated. So even in her dream, could she only do so about him, not even allowing herself the joy of making love to Andrew even in this realm, even in this so near innocent way. 

And I wasn't about to do that. No way, no how. 

I did stand there for a moment; she was after all expecting that. But I had in fact entirely removed all my clothing. Now the nice thing about a dream is, you can of course do whatever you want to do in an instant. So there I now stood, nude, sporting a magnificent erection. Andrew had a fairly nice sized cock in fact, and I was pleased that he did. It might help if this seduction was to actually work.. And I still didn't have any clue that it would yet; I was branching off into some pretty unchartered territory here. When the sound of Andrew walking away never came, Barbara turned, a somewhat puzzled, slightly curious expression already etched into her face. Seeing me standing there nude was as much as a shock as it was a surprise to her. Neither one of which had been planned for or prepared for of course.


Thesandman: Dream Walker



"What?" The only word spoken, but it spoke volumes. 

Barbara had, with one simply spoken word interjected a hundred unanswered questions.

"Don't fight it Barbara. I am here for you, right here, right now. And I want you, and I'm not going away until I have you." I gathered her in my arms then, carried her into the bedroom where the sheets were already turned down, awaiting her? Us? There was no real answer to that one. Perhaps it was a side eventuality, a possibility that actually did exist even more deeply down inside her subconscious level that she was hoping we would in fact end up in her bed together, and that I hadn't actually turned and walked away.

She started to protest, even as I lay her softly down on the bed, but I kissed her, effectively shutting off her protests, fears, and confusion. A new script was being written here now, and I knew next what it was I was to do, and enjoyed the new version of this screenplay much better. Reaching up, I pulled one of the thin straps from off her shoulder, pulling it down far enough to expose one of her beautifully well-rounded breasts. I lay beside her now, my tongue gingerly flicking her hard erect nipple, my free hand, caressing and toying with her other through the material of her gown. 

"I....I....I don't understand..........."

"Shhhhhhhh" I whispered erotically into her ear, "Don't question it....just enjoy it, enjoy the feel of my hand upon your breast, the feel of my lips as I kiss and suck your sweet breast. You know you want me to, have always wanted me to, and now that I am, just let yourself feel it, enjoy it."

I felt her melt beneath me then, giving into her self as much as having given her self over to me. 

"It just seems so strange." She tried to begin again. "I know I've always wanted this, needed this in fact, but can't quite believe its actually happening. I just never thought......"

Once again I cut her off before she could continue that line of thought any further. She was after all, still very much in control of this dream, and could at any moment, terminate it completely. And I still wasn't sure of what might happen to me if she did that. All I could do was try and guide it, manipulate it, and maintain her desire and interest towards letting it continue. Failing that, and I had no idea what might actually happen afterwards.

Kissing her deeply once again, I now slipped a hand up, bunching her gown up and around her midsection, exposing her pussy, and the soft tuft of hair that awaited me there. I ran my fingers through it, teasing her and petting her without going any further. Only when the soft breathless urgings of her moans and the next anticipated, now desperately wanted actions enter my mind did I go forward. 

Only when the thought finally came of my cock easing into her, when she was already experiencing the delicious sensations of how it would feel as I did, long before I actually began to do so, did I press on. I placed her hand about my cock then so she could feel it, would guide it then of her own accord to the very wet opening of her cunt. She had already felt it slip inside herself, knew how it would feel, so now I let her do it, experience it and give her that which she had been yearning for so long all these years. My cock slid inside, filling her, and she gasped. I knew to hold it there, unmoving, and I did. I let her take the measure of it, feel it as I had become apart of her for the first time, even perhaps if it would only be this way, and only now, never really. But as she briefly considered that thought, began to contemplate and worry about it, I began to fuck into her. 

All pretense of worry, fear, and concern fled away then. Only the sweet exquisite sensation of our coupling filled her mind, bringing her joy and pleasure beyond measure. She was now with Andrew, and though for her this would be the only way she would or could ever be with him, it was at least far more than what she would have otherwise allowed. 

Barbara climaxed soon afterwards, her pussy exploding in such sweet sensations as to begin the process of actual awakening. I took that moment to join her, and as my own orgasm met hers, drenching her in an even deeper emotional display of rapture, I spoke softly to her mind, coaxing her with the promise of thoughts to hers.

"Anytime you want me...need me, I will be here for you." I said.

As though dreaming within the dream now, she answered, almost sleepily, which was a sure sign she was on the verge of waking.

"Like the Sandman in my dreams?" She questioned, asking.

"Yes...like that." I whispered softly back to her. "Like The Sandman, whenever you need me, want me, I will be here for you. Just call me, and I will come."

I began to fade away then, and knew I must leave now. I saw the shimmering of the door, which awaited me back into the void, but I whispered to her one more time, and watched the smile spreading across her face. 

"Just remember.......I am, and will always be, The Sandman"

And so it was that I officially became, The Sandman, Dream-Walker. And I returned to Barbara, frequently afterwards, for it was easy to hear her voice when she called out to me in her sleep, in her dreams. And I would join her there, and be all that she needed and wanted me to be, and more.

And eventually as I prowled at night amongst the dreams, watched for the erotic shades of pleasure to beckon me, I soon after found and met Ginger.

I had been prowling amidst the world of dreams, and had slipped into one of Ginger's. Though her dream bubble wasn't glowing, with the colors of sexual excitement that I generally looked around for, I had been known from time to time to drop in occasionally on people's dreams to see what it was they were thinking about.

Ginger was an attractive woman, a housewife with a loving husband and a son. She was happy, content, and seemed to be enjoying whatever pleasures she had both in the real world as well as in the world of dreams. I was in fact about ready to turn and disappear when the image of a man shimmered into her dream, she reacted towards him with more than a little fear and fright, and I found this both fascinating as well as interesting. Why on earth would anyone with such an easygoing pleasant nature suddenly dream about something that was bordering on the sinister? As she turned as though to run into the next room, I immediately took on the form of this man who was chasing her. I prepared myself to act in whatever way she was envisioning until I at least had a clearer picture of the what and the why behind it all. But what immediately came to mind was unexpected and erotically thrilling. 

The man was not a stranger at all. It was someone Ginger knew, and knew well. She had lusted secretly after him for a very long time, something she kept not only to herself, but had never shared with anyone, not even a close neighbor or girlfriend. The man was, a good friend of theirs as well, and as I quickly surmised, would never in a million years do the kind of thing, or act in the way that Ginger was purposely fantasizing about having him do now.

"Greg! I told you to stay away from me!" She screamed at him. Now screaming at me.

"You slut!" He...now I yelled back at her. "Constantly flirting, constantly teasing me. Now your telling me that you really don't want to have anything to do with me?"

In an instant I had the visual images of countless times when Ginger and her husband had invited over Greg and his wife. Of so many sexual innuendoes that had passed back and 

forth between them. Oh, there was no denying she loved her husband, very much in fact, but Ginger was also attracted to Greg, and had struggled with that attraction with deep guilt felt feelings. So much so, that the only way she had been able to come to cope with her fantasies of him, was by turning them into being forced to do things with him against her will. This was simply one more little scenario that she had played out several times within her own mind. It would end as it always had ended for her previously, ravished, pleasured, tormented in away, all against her will. But left wanton, panting, and desiring more from him long afterwards, even in her dreams.

Once again I knew the path this particular little play was to run. I knew my lines by heart, what I was expected to do and say. In this situation I would chase her down the hall, she would reach, or nearly reach the door to their den. But here, I would finally catch her, pinning her to the wall and rip away her blouse as she struggled with renewed efforts to flee. Tackling her, we would roll around on the floor together and I would finally force up her skirt, ripping away her panties and bury my cock inside her fucking her into submission. Only then would she relent, allowing me to do this to her, succumbing to it because it was the only thing she could do, taking secret pleasure in it as she really had wanted it, but could not allow it to have happened any other way.

I didn't chase her though. I watched her run down the hallway, she made the door, turning around fully expecting me to block her from closing and locking the door. That's what was supposed to happen. Ginger stood there looking at me, a wild-eyed, very confused expression on her face. She did close the door then. I even heard the metallic click of the door as she engaged the lock. Silence then, followed moments later by a very confused still frightened call of my new name.

"Greg? Greg? Are you still there?"

I didn't answer. I simply stood there silently, watching and waiting for her to reappear. Somehow I knew she would, this wasn't supposed to be the way it happened, because it had always been this way, each and every time Greg had chased her down the hall, fought with her, and fucked her on the floor of the den. Until now.

Once again the sound of the door clicking, but this time opening, not locking, and Ginger peered out from around the door, looking down the hallway. But I had moved away, I was lying on the couch, my clothing gone, I was fully nude, waiting for her.

I could hear her approaching, tentatively, pausing to stand in the entry way of the front room, half expecting me to leap out at her from some place of concealment. A minor deviation perhaps, but one in which she could easily accept perhaps before the expected and anticipated continuation of the near-rape was once again completed.

"Greg? Are you still here?" Her tone sounded more than confused, it also had an edge of disappointment to it as well. I listened to her footfalls, heard her approaching the front room where I continued to lay upon the couch waiting for her.

"I'm on the couch Ginger. Waiting for you."

Once again I heard her turn to run, but she stopped midway down the hall. I still wasn't chasing her, wasn't coming after her at all. I heard her returning afterwards, this time with determination, if not a little resolution as to find out just what exactly was really going on. I looked up, one hand behind my head, one hand softly stroking my cock up and down. 

She peered over the top of the couch, still looking like she would spring and run like a rabbit if I made any move whatsoever towards her. 

"You're.....you're........"

"Jacking off?" I finished for her. 

Her face blushed crimson, but she neither turned to run away, nor attempt to avert her eyes either.

"Don't deny it Ginger. Ever since our camping trip together last year, when you got up in the middle of the night to take a pee, and stumbled across me jerking off, I was thinking about you then, and you knew it too. That skimpy little top you'd been wearing all day long, your tits half falling out of it? What did you expect? I was mad with lust for you, but couldn't say or do anything about that, and you knew it too. But still you teased, and flirted with me anyway. And so...you caught me masturbating. And have been wanting me ever since. But only with my forcing you to actually do it will admit it, and even then only afterwards to yourself, as long as all the blames on me."

I knew it all of course, in the fraction of an instant I had known and felt everything. 

"How? How could you possibly know all that?" She asked. Fear rose above all else now, fear of discovery, fear that her secret was widely known, perhaps even by her husband.

"It doesn't matter." I answered simply. 

"Perhaps you'd better go." She stated matter of factly.

"If that's what you really want." I said, sitting up and reaching for my pants.

"No....wait!" She stammered out, once again, confusion and uncertainty at the forefront of her exclamation.

"Take off your clothes Ginger." I said simply and succinctly, leaving no room for argument in the tone I had used. It was a moment of decision for her. And I knew that. Ginger would either force herself to awaken now, or she would go on with the dream, curious now as to how it would finally end. I hoped for the latter.

She came around to the front of the couch. Already the button's on her blouse undone, her skirt, that same skirt she now unzipped herself and allowed it to drop to the floor around her feet. She stepped out of the pile, and began to slide down her pink untorn panties as well. 

"Now the blouse and the bra." I ordered. I was still in control here. Perhaps she still needed that, being told to do it was at least easing her conscious. She wasn't being forced to do anything, but she also knew this moment would somehow end if she didn't go along with it either, so in a way, she was still being forced against her will, and that thought won out. I sensed it, felt it, and knew I'd been given the leeway to write the new dialogue here.

Ginger was nude now. Still standing above me looking down. I continued stroking my cock, looking at her, watching her.

"Touch yourself." I told her. 

"I can't!" She half moaned aloud.

Once again I rose up as though to leave. I projected the thought towards her that I would too. It seemed to work; at least that thought went against what it was that she really wanted away.

"Ok. Ok!" She managed to say. Her hand dipped between her legs, but hardly moved.

"You know what I mean, you know what I told you to do Ginger. You've seen me do it, now it's my turn to watch you do it. Now!"

Only then did her fingers truly begin to pleasure herself. I watched as she began to slide them easily, quite easily actually, inside her very wet slit. She even cupped one of her own breasts without being asked or directed to. I watched as she thumbed her fat stiff nipple. Watched as it hardened and puckered up the dark area of her areola. 

"That's it. That looks good Ginger, keep playing with yourself for me. Tease yourself the way you've teased me, pleasure yourself to orgasm, or nearly, and tell me before you do though!"

She did as I'd asked her. She twirled her clitoris, actually bending slightly at the knee in order to gain better access to herself, resting one hand on the arm of the couch, she inserted first one, and then eventually two fingers, I watched her sliding them in and out of her pussy, stopping occasionally to softly thumb and stroke her clitoris in-between times. 

"I'm gonna cum." She announced after a time.

"Stop then!" I commanded her.

"What? No....please." She begged me. She was so close to orgasm, close enough that even I could feel her teetering on the edge of it.

"Come here!" I demanded of her once again. And she opened her eyes, almost floating over to me, and if she'd realized it, she had.

"Suck it. Ginger. Kneel down by the couch and suck my cock!"

I proffered it up to her, and she took it in her hand, and then guided it into her mouth. I reached down between her legs, felt her wetness, and impaled her with my finger. 

"Don't you dare cum!" I warned her, but continued to finger fuck her pussy as though I had every intention of making her cum regardless of what I had said.

She began sucking my cock with an urgency borne of need, and not my need, but hers.

Her lips sucked, her mouth suctioned and drew me inside her, she languished the feel of my prick inside her mouth, tickled and licked the head of my cock with her tongue, swirling it around and over it. The memory of my prick, now more firmly encompassed in her thoughts.

"You'd like to cum fucking it wouldn't you?" I asked.

"Oh god yes!" She breathed around my cock saying. 

"Then come up here and sit on it then." 

She moved without being asked to. I felt her slip her cunt over the top of my cock, it slid into her easily and so smoothly that even she didn't realize that it had until I was inside her, fully and deeply so.

Reaching up, I captured both breasts in my hands, thumbed and toyed with her nipples while she began a nice slow arithmetic rocking motion against me. I felt her cunt nearly reach the point where my cock might actually slip out, and then she would slam herself back down once again until our flesh slapped together, until she felt my prick filling her entirely and banging against the entrance to her womb. Over and over we fucked in this way, in this fashion until the juices were streaming down between her legs soaking us both.

"Oh Greg...fill me please with your cum, fill me until its pouring out of me as well!"

One thing about dreams I really liked too, was you could cum in them as much as you wanted to, as much as you could handle anyway. And the amount of juice, cream, spunk, squirt...whatever you wanted to call it was entirely up to the mood of the individual. She wanted to feel a river of cum filling her, and a river she got. The spurts I ejaculated were hard felt, they filled her completely and with such force that it triggered a series of multiple orgasms for her. She continued fucking me, but now the creamy white nectar was being forced from within the depths of her cunt. There was no longer any room for both it as well as my cock, so that with each continued lunge inside her even more cum was being forced to evacuate itself from her pussy. The frothy, swish-sloppy sounds that emanated from inside her cunt were heightening the sounds of her orgasm in ever widening expanse of her senses. I watched her eyelids fluttering then, and by experience knew she was on the edge of her bubble, knew that it was about to pop, and that in seconds from now she would no doubt awaken to a very wet sloppy cum-soaked pussy.

"Next time....." I whispered. Think of The Sandman, think of me, and whatever you want to do, or have done to you, and I will be here.......just call my name, I am......"

"The Sandman".......she finished. The last word spoken still vibrating off the tip of her tongue having spoken it as Ginger opened her eyes; alert now and aware that it was indeed morning. Her husband lying beside her still asleep, she reached down, her panties soaked, her cunt still quivering from the fresh orgasm she'd just experienced.

"Honey? You awake?" She asked her husband. And she reached over towards him then.

Shelly. Now that was (and is) an interesting experience. Again, though I had certainly learned much in my Dream-Walking, I had only really explored the tip of the proverbial ice-burg. I was drifting around in the void, having already popped in on a few erotic little dreams. One or two young men having their first true-wet dreams, it was always interesting to see what it was that inspired those. People would be surprised I suppose, a lot of misconceptions for some, certainly a lot of very naughty thoughts about people that young boys would never ever admit to having had impure thoughts about, that's for sure. But anyway, it was during this particular trip that I ventured into one of Shelly's dreams. And I was glad long afterwards that I had, as it gave me insight into areas that I would have never thought possible or ever really considered before.

I had by now been able to easily distinguish between the dreams of men or women. When men dreamt, especially erotic dreams, the color of their translucent little bubbles took on a sheen of deep rich, nearly blood red purple. When a woman had a particularly erotic dream, it was more of a dark violet color, each one having an obvious difference, with variations on the color in-between, entirely dependant of course as to the extent or the eroticism of the dream. 




Thesandman: Dream Walker



So it was, when I first encountered Shelly, that this was amongst the darkest deepest colorations of violet purple that I'd ever seen. She was just lighting a single candle, which had been placed in the middle of an intimately set dinner table. By the furnishings, which decorated, the room, I immediately knew this was a cabin. There was a chill in the air near the window caused by an obvious draft, snow was blowing outside though it wasn't a blizzard blowing outside by any means, just a constant light snowfall. Even this was interesting to me, because in my time, when I awoke it was a hundred plus degrees in the middle of August. So thus I learned, time as well as seasons didn't matter here either.

A nice warm fire had been set in the hearth along one wall, which nearly filled it. Open as it was, meant for cooking as well as for warmth, it was an older styled cabin, and had obviously been around for years. Or perhaps, in Shelly's mind it had been anyway, there was really know way of knowing for sure. 

I stood quietly in a small alcove just a short distance away from where I'd been when I first stuck my head inside her dream. Again, just an abstract thought perhaps at first, certainly nothing to dwell on or think about too seriously. I was able to easily slip over out of sight, out of mind as it were, and await the arrival of the man I expected to walk inside the cabin at any moment. 

Whatever it was that was brewing here was anticipated as something hopefully special and very sensual indeed. I got a strong sense of expectancy, a little bit if nervousness and trepidation, and a lot of lust-filled hope that seemed to permeate my senses. This might be one of the few that I would merely watch as opposed to taking over and joining in. Quite often that's all I really did. Only rarely did I actively participate, unless I saw or felt something that seemed uniquely different or somehow abstract to me. In those cases, I did enjoy a more personal involvement, especially if I could learn or experience something I had never done before. But I felt nothing of that here, and determined that it was simply going to be a very erotic evening spent together between a man and a woman. By the intense coloration of the dream, Shelly's desires were already at a peak level, which promised if nothing else to be very erotic to watch. 

She glanced up expectantly, already I had a sense of someone approaching, and I watched her as she peered out the window watching the snowfall. Shelly was a mature older woman, who certainly looked years younger than her actual age. Her breasts were well rounded and full, and I was already anticipating with a great deal of delight, the moment when I would soon be able to see them for myself.

The door began to open then, and along with it a cold rush of air sweeping in a flurry of snow behind the guy as he came into the room. He stamped his feet down on a mat near the door, shaking off the excess snow from his boots in the process, and removed his hooded parka shaking it off as well. 

Imagine my surprise. He was a she. And stood their smiling at the older woman with a lusty expression of her own.

"Shelly, I'm so sorry for being late. I should have left home sooner, but trying to convince my husband that I would be perfectly safe out here in this weather wasn't easy. He almost insisted on driving me up here, but I finally managed to convince him to let me come."

I stood listening, almost making up my mind to leave, as this was not at all what I had expected to find, and then just as quickly changed my mind completely. Was it even possible? I'd never even thought about doing "this". But this was Shelly's dream after all, so though she was the one controlling it, and though the other woman was no more real a thought to her than I was, I decided to see what involving myself in this one would be like. I studied the younger woman; she was perhaps twenty years, though no more than that younger than Shelly. Whatever relationship was going on, or perhaps had at one time gone on, seemed to be what Shelly was trying to recapture here in this moment of time, in this dream. And I was fascinated. 

I waited until the opportunity presented itself, and as Shelly turned to begin pouring the wine, I immediately moved in and became....Debra. Almost immediately, I got a feeling that there had been a moment many years ago perhaps, when intimacy had nearly, though not quite happened between them. For whatever reason, it hadn't occurred. I got a feeling of mutual long felt desire between the two of them, but also a feeling or circumstance which had not quite allowed it to actually happen. Shelly then was dreaming about that lost possibility, that moment that had never come, but one in which she had obviously considered, though never actually going through with it herself. I sensed as well that Debra had no idea. Though the mutual attraction had been there, it was now becoming clear to me that neither one had explored that possibility, had never even discussed it with any degree of clarity, sometimes joking around, hinting, but for the most part, glossing over their mutual desires for one another. 

And then the next thing that hit me of course, was that I was now a woman. And that was the strangest experience ever. I was suddenly filled with a whole different set of emotions, thoughts, feelings as well as a deeper understanding towards other women, any woman for that matter, that I'd ever had before. 

"Are you ok?" Shelly asked me. "You seem distant, perhaps different somehow."

Perhaps being a man in a woman's body wasn't going to be half as easy as I'd hoped it might be. Worse in fact. I mean I felt like a woman in some ways, even had a distinct impression of the more obvious differences, but mentally, I was still thinking as me, as a man...or was I?

"Oh I'm fine." I responded. "I guess it was just a long day for me, longer drive in the snow of course." And then I felt and knew my next several lines as they too had been scripted out for me ahead of time.

"I wasn't even sure you'd still come. Especially when the snow started falling."

"Well when I talked to you on the phone yesterday, you told me then that you needed to see me, that there was something important you felt like you needed to discuss with me. We've been friends far too long to let a little snow stop me you know." All this I said knowing it was apart of wherever it was this was all going. But I was curious now, growing a little excited in the process as well. But not excited in the way that I would expect to be getting by now, and that was interesting too. My breasts hurt, specifically my nipples. And whether or not that was from the cold or the excitement of what I was beginning to feel, I still wasn't sure about one way or the other.

We sat down across from one another then, finished the light perfect dinner that Shelly had prepared, and enjoyed several glasses of wine in the process. We chatted about special moments we'd both shared and experienced together, relieving each one, laughing about those times, and sharing the intimate moments we'd experienced with one another. And there had been moments of intimacy, or near intimacy anyway. Rubbing one another at the beach with lotion, watching the men passing by gawking at us, as we lay topless, completely uncaring that our breasts were in full view. I was reminded how Shelly's touch upon my breasts had felt like when she had applied sun block on them. How my nipples had hardened at her touch, and how I had almost told her then how I wanted her to do more than that to me...later. But then never did, lacking the courage to have done so. 

Interesting.........

This was the scene that Shelly was wondering if I'd be able, willing actually to play. Little did she know of course.

"Actually......." I began. This part was unscripted so far, and I knew wasn't exactly the way that Shelly might have envisioned things to go. But I was way past curious now, and wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with me, even if I wasn't entirely the woman she thought I was. ".....There is something I have been wanting to talk to you about too!" I said.

I knew it wasn't exactly following along the same lines, same dialogue as she had imagined it would go, but it was still running off in the same general direction, so her response wasn't too different than the one she'd already prepared in her own mind several times already, in any eventuality as the fantasy progressed, or didn't progress. I'd already gathered that much up as well. 

Shelly looked at me then with urgently beckoning eyes. "Yes? What is it Debra. Tell me?"

"Do you remember that time when we'd gone on that trip together, the four of us, to Napa Valley to go wine tasting?"

"How can I forget?" Shelly laughed. "I think we drank more wine over those few days than I'd ever had before in my entire life."

I laughed too, remembering. "Yes, we did, didn't we?" I answered. "And how you and I had gotten so drunk, we'd collapsed down in the bed together, and how our husbands couldn't rouse us enough, actually me enough to even go over to my own room?"

Shelly was shaking her head in agreement now, remembering. Surprised perhaps that she was remembering because this recollection hadn't been one of the primary memories she'd anticipated bringing up again. And of course, I was winging a few things now, simply drawing off of her thoughts, of her past recollections, and gleaned from that what I considered to be a fairly accurate guess as to what could have, perhaps should have happened and never really did.

"I remember your waking up in the middle of the night, but instead of your husband laying next to you in bed, I was. But you didn't really know it then of course, you figured that I had gone back to my own room with David, but in fact, I was actually laying in bed, next to you."

"Yes...." Shelly remembered. And she was now remembering that too, and I drew from that, recalling her thoughts and memories just before she did so that I could use them to construct and repaint the picture in the direction I was now heading.

"And you remember, I always sleep in the nude, so had at one point removed my clothes,

even drunk as I was, or may have been, I have still never been able to sleep in anything, so having taken them off........."

"And that is when I leaned over, thinking you were Jim, and put my hand on your crotch, expecting to find him...."

"Yes." I added laughing. "And put your hand on my pussy instead." 

"You told me later how surprised you were of course, feeling around there in the dark, and realizing it was me, and not Jim that was lying there in bed next to you."

"Yes...I remember all that, but what's the point?" Shelly said, still going along, still sharing the past with me, but wondering where all this was leading too nevertheless.

"What you never did share with me, is how your hand stayed where it was for a very long time........"

"How could you know that? You were asleep!" 

"No. I woke the moment you first touched me. I just lay there, hoping, waiting for you to do more. But you never did."

"I didn't dare."

"I wasn't sure either." I responded then. "But I am now. Isn't that why you asked me here? To tell me you wanted to be with me as badly as I had wanted to be with you? We've both been curious about it, admit it. We've even joked around about it; we even masturbated while sharing a room on another trip, and then told one another we had. We've been sending each other signals for years that there was a desire there, but we never acted on it. Until now anyway."

I stood up from the table then, moved towards Shelly and kissed her. At the same time I lovingly caressed those magnificent breasts of hers, fondled them and felt her nipples harden and begin to press against the palms of my hands. Shelly then reached up, lightly cupped mine as well and gave them an affectionate loving squeeze.

"Make love to me." I urged her, and led her over to the small single bed in the room. We undressed one another then, slowly delighting in every square inch of flesh that we revealed to one another. When at last we were both undressed, lying naked in one another's arms, I felt her lips begin to kiss me with feathery soft kisses that tickled and pleasured me simultaneously. When she finally reached my breasts, and licked, kissed and sucked them, I felt a thousand tiny pinpricks of pure sensual delight race up and down my spine.

"Hmmm now this really is interesting." I thought quietly to myself, outside myself. I had certainly enjoyed having my own nipples played with, but it was never anything like this. A woman's nipples were far more sensitive, the nerve endings somehow directly 'tuned-in' to the highly aroused area between my legs. It was certainly a far different sensation than anything I had ever experienced before... that was for sure!

I selfishly allowed her to enjoy herself on my breasts. The sensation was pure eroticism, having breasts in the first place was one thing anyway, having them licked, sucked and kissed was something else. 

I moved atop her then, suckled at her own magnificent tits, I wasn't about to pass that up either. But it was the sensation of my extremely wet cunt, pressed against hers that caught me by surprise; it was so smooth, so slippery, so incredibly delicious feeling. My own labia were dripping with dew that had coated and covered the outer lips of my cunt. It intermingled with Shelly's as we pressed up against one another. In a way that I could not fully comprehend, it was like kissing her. It wasn't cunt to cunt now, or even pussy-to-pussy, it was in the purest form of the word, lips to lips, kissing, sucking at one another hungrily, kissing. And we kissed then with our mouths as well, and I kissed her as a woman, as well as a man perhaps, but as a woman mostly. Because I was kissing her as a woman in another way then too, and in a way that only a woman could kiss, or be kissed.

"I need to taste you." Shelly whispered to me after a time. "I've wanted to do that to you, with you, for you for years."

I was so excited I nearly bent over double in order to accommodate her as quickly as possible. "Oh god yes. Hurry please hurry!" I lay beneath her then, spreading myself opening myself to her, exposing my clitoris....

Interesting..........Damn that was nice. Really nice. As I felt Shelly's tongue glide up and down my wet glistening slit, I felt sensations not too unlike having my own shaft licked and tickled, but perhaps a little more intensely felt. Maybe it was having a cock that was mostly exposed that had desensitized it a little bit, I loved the way a woman's tongue felt slithering up and down my shaft of course, but it felt nothing like it was feeling now, it was like my lips, my pussy lips were my balls or something, it was sort of weird putting things in that kind of perspective, but it was the only way I could even begin to associate the similarities with. 

I had positioned myself then so that I could also enjoy Shelly's sweet tasting pussy too. We languidly lay together, hands continually caressing, touching, exploring. Tongues twirling, lapping, licking, mouths that kissed, sucked. We explored one another in everyway possible, I marveled at the size of her clitoris, took delight in the way it looked, in the way it felt to me, the near pearl dropped shape, the shiny pink surface of her nubbin which I lapped at, tickle-licked and softly caressed with my finger tip. As likewise she did to me.

Maybe this never would happen. But it was happening now. And I was determined to pleasure her in everyway possible so that even in the morning when she awoke, she would wonder, for a time maybe, for a very long time perhaps, that it had happened, in someway, somehow.

I felt her juices flow, I lapped at them strove for them in fact, delirious with the precious nectar of her femininity as I devoured her fully. And felt my own sweet juices flowing too. I reveled in it, for it was like a tidal wave of pure unexplained ecstasy. It wasn't the near harsh too quickly felt, too quickly gone powerful explosions I felt as a man, but an on-rolling, all encompassing quivering all consuming sweet scented expulsion. My own pussy contracting, and taking with it immeasurable pleasures that swept me away into places I had not known existed.

So sweet was this....that I felt myself shimmering away into nothingness. And knew in that second of time that I was returning back to my male form. A form that Shelly would soon find laying beside her, atop her instead of the woman she'd though, imagined, and fantasized her self to be with. In a near panic, I looked down, but she too was shimmering away, out of the world of dreams, gone long before I would be in fact. And I breathed with a simple sigh of relief as her bubble popped then, and as I once again found myself standing out in the infinite blackness of the void. 

How fascinating had that been, how incredibly erotic. It would not soon be something I would be able to forget. And I would visit Shelly again too. And hope that she would have other dreams of Debra, or other women even. And looked forward to those, and more. But I found myself hoping too, to love her as a man would as well. Yes. I'd definitely make a point of visiting with her often. As often as it was possible to do so.

Perhaps it was that experience as a woman that opened up the possibilities to me. Things I had not considered, certainly hadn't contemplated up until now anyway. But as I Dream-Walked, shared both women, and now sometimes men's dreams as well, I began to enjoy the wide variety of pleasures that awaited me there. I opened up myself to learning and experiencing the joy in others, and wherever I could, enhancing that joy, or turning around someone's fallen-short dream desires, to escalate them beyond the level that they were allowing themselves to experience or to enjoy.

I was Dream Walking one evening, when I came across a man who as I mentioned earlier, had an incredibly deep rich looking hue to his particular bubble. Whatever was going on had to be incredibly erotic, and I was definitely in one of those moods as well. I entered his dream, and things already seemed to be well under way with him, and so I decided to position myself somewhere as an afterthought away in a corner. 

He had two women with him. A first for me, for I had not as yet encountered someone's dream where there was actually more than one other individual involved. "No wonder his sphere was so dark." I mused to myself quietly.

All three were in bed, and had been touching and preliminarily playing with one another so far, so nothing much as yet had happened. I was glad for that, as it would have been like entering in the middle of a movie, with no way to see it again from the beginning.

The women were as different as night and day. I quickly learned as I watched and enjoyed, that the younger of the two was named Leslie, with short cropped blonde colored hair, and a body that oozed sensuality and delight. The other woman with her, I soon learned was named Cindy, and was a voluptuously built woman, and the wife of the man they were both in bed with. Cindy had dark auburn colored hair that was long, thick and full. She had full rich breasts as well, and dark chocolate colored areolas. Leslie's were a light tan, near pinkish color, and they contrasted well together as both women lay kissing and occasionally teasing one another as well as the man. 

I had not intended to do anything but watch, but it clearly became evident that the "wife" was not as enthusiastic about mixing it up with the other two, and this then would become a less than perfect situation to simply sit back and enjoy watching. I am sure that a part of it was the man's feelings or senses about his own wife, that she might naturally react in this way, but I also felt it would detract from pure pleasured possibilities. And...as I had already had some limited experience, albeit very limited experience as a woman, I quickly enjoined myself to the woman named Cindy. 




Thesandman: Dream Walker



Almost immediately Brad, the man's who's name I now knew, had the desire to see his wife, and Leslie enjoy a little sixty-nine with one another while he watched. I was certainly all for that, looking forward in fact to licking and tasting Leslie's sweet bare-shaven pussy. We soon positioned ourselves in such a fashion that I was on the bottom, and she on top. I licked, tickled and kissed her sweet smelling cunt, and felt her doing the same to mine. Once again, those delicious sensations of even having a pussy, let alone having it licked was soon driving me into unimaginable heights of ecstasy and delight. I was in fact so engrossed in this erotic pleasure, licking her, being licked by her, that I had not felt nor seen Brad get off the bed and move around towards the end. He easily managed to walk up and stand behind Leslie, slipping his cock suddenly inside her.

I was tonguing her, lapping at her tender little clitty when I felt the pressure, and substance of his prick sliding inside her. It stunned me momentarily; I had not actually counted on this, my head swimming with mixed emotions, but thoroughly enjoying the way that Leslie's tongue was pleasuring me, I wasn't about to jump up and vacate my spot either.

"Ahhh. That feels so good." Brad moaned as he slid in and out of Leslie's hot dripping pussy.

"Hmmm. Why don't you try licking his cock Cindy while he's fucking me with it?" Leslie moaned into my cunt. 

How could I say no?

Tentatively I felt his organ as it slipped in, and then out of her. It was covered with her juices, and I liked that. I used my tongue then to tickle him as he fucked slowly inside her, then licked and nipped specifically at her clit as he held himself there, pulsating and enjoying the feel of her as I was.

With one hand, I reached down to cup one of her wonderfully free-swaying breasts. I fingered the nipple, delighted with the texture of it, the hard protruding nub rolling around between my fingers. My other hand, now reaching up and cupping Brad's ball-sack, I gently explored it, compared it to some extent with my own, though I no longer felt them of course, so for me this was an added and new adventure as well. 

We soon after exchanged places then, and to my delight, surprise, and wonder, felt Brad place the tip of his blood engorged cock at the entrance of my cunt, and felt him slowly fill me with his hardness and strength. Leslie was now licking my clit from below, just as I had been doing to them, and licked and sucked Brad's prick as he skewered me from behind with long forceful strokes that filled me with his stiff powerful cock. I was in heaven, and enjoying this multitude of never experienced before sensations. 

"Suck me...both of you, suck me off now." 

"Come on Cindy...." Leslie coaxed me. "Lets lick some dick." 

Ok...it was a little stranger for me than I had anticipated. But Leslie and I were soon sharing Brad's cock together, tonguing it, and licking up and down his purple-veined penis. His spongy-like cock head was mushroom shaped and seemed to pulsate as we licked, nipped and sucked him. It certainly helped that Leslie continued to finger-fuck my own dripping pussy as well from beneath, and I took what ever opportunity between us I had to play with Leslie's pussy as well, taking turns to suck-jack Brad off, as well as finger-fuck Leslie's extremely slippery cunt. 

Brad soon groaned, and a great gushing geyser of his spunk was soon spilling out the head of his dick, it flew from the tip of his prick in long ribbons of white creamy nectar, 

Leslie grabbed for it, sucking it, and devouring a goodly portion of her spunk before handing it back over to me. Likewise, I took him in, sucked, swallowed, and pleasured him as best I could as well, after all this was his dream, and he had every right to enjoy it to the fullest. 

Unfortunately, it was his dream. Not mine...not even Leslies. And I realized in moments that all would shimmer away into nothingness.

But I also knew now that I would find Leslie, the real Leslie. And I would come to visit her in the middle of the night, next time of course as the Sandman.

And so it was that I became a Dream Walker, The Sandman. So as you lie dreaming in the night, and as erotica becomes pleasure, know that I am with you, watching perhaps even joining you in someway. And anytime you need me, or want me, I will come to you, I will be there. Just call me out, and wait for me.

For I shall always be, and forever will remain.

The Sandman