From: trekat@theriver.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: His Dream Girl [m/f] - fantasy
Date: Wed, 20 Dec 1995 21:16:42 GMT
Organization: The River Internet Access Co.
Message-ID: <4b9r17$51o@news.theriver.com>

2250 words  /  6 pages / 21-k bytes



	Dream Girl

	by

	Rick

	I hurry home each Friday afternoon, speeding through caution lights

and stop signs, taking the corners recklessly and finally slamming my

plain, elderly  Chevrolet to a squealing stop in the driveway.  In my

lonely cell, I race through cooking dinner, eating and doing the few

dishes and then a slap-dash job of ironing my shirt for the next day,

watching the clock, anxious for the day to end.  I sit, trying to read

the newspaper, but I am not able to concentrate on the troubles in

Ireland, the insidious doings of terrorists and the like.  I can

hardly wait for night; night and the strange, exciting dream I've

experienced for the past several months.   At last it is nine-o'clock

and time for bed.

	I try to will myself to sleep, but of course that doesn't work and I

toss fitfully  for an hour.  Then, as it has happened for so many

nights before, I am abruptly unconscious, and dreaming.

	It seems so very real, more real than my solitary, dedicated life.  I

am there again, in that strange city, in a dangerous neighborhood,

walking down the dark and windy sidewalk to the second-rate hotel.  I

push the door open and mount the narrow, dirty stairs with their worn

carpeting, up to the third floor.  Moving down the poorly lighted

hallway, I anxiously search for a room number, and finding it, I open

the door without knocking.  She is there, waiting for me. She, the

lovely, raven haired young woman I have met each time before.  I know

her from another place and time, but here and now she is a very, very

different person.  She is my mistress.

	As I approach the wide, satin draped bed in the center of the small,

cheap room, she turns to me, brushing her wild, dark hair back from

her face.  She doesn't smile but I sense she is glad to see me.  I

sigh with relief.

	She is tall and well built, without being obviously fleshy and

voluptuous; sensual and yet somehow still innocent despite her dark

and troubled past.  Her deep, black eyes behind those long, beautiful

lashes, smile as she holds out her hand to me.  Taking her soft hand,

I let her draw me to closer until I am sitting on the edge of the bed.

For a moment, she looks at me soberly, then finally she smiles with

her lips.  She unbuttons the high-collared, long sleeved silk blouse

she is wearing, taking her time, watching my reaction as she removes

it and drops it on the floor beside the bed.  She wears no brassier.

I gaze at her, drinking the sight of her small but perfectly shaped

breasts with their full nipples as she unfastens the long skirt she is

wearing, squirms out of it and throws it aside. I see she is barefoot.

In just her underpants - black and silky - she sits waiting for me to

undress.  I pull off my shoes and socks, and almost rip off my starch

collared shirt, black trousers and undershorts, once again totally

unashamed to be naked in front of a woman.  As soon as I am undressed,

she presses me back onto the firm bed and bends over me, offering her

breasts.  I nuzzle between them, kissing and then sucking on her

nipples which become swollen and taut.  As I nurse on her, bringing

low croons of pleasure from her, she reaches behind her to  fondle my

genitals, deliberately rousing my lust even more.

	I'm not impressive to look at, nor have I truly ever understood women,

which is probably why, at thirty-four, I'm necessarily married to my

profession. My sexual equipment is not impressive either, but somehow

as she touches me, my penis and testicles become larger - much larger.

She sits up again, looking down at me with hot desire in her flashing

eyes as she touches the mound of her sex through her underpants,

daring me, urging me on.

	I reach up, take her hand and pull her back down beside me.  Hooking

my fingers in the waistband of her smooth panties, I tug at them.  She

raises up so that I can slide them over her sweetly curved buttocks

and down her long and well shaped legs.  She has thick, black pubic

hair but in the warm center of her womanly delta I can see the narrow

cleft and the pinkish center, seeming to pout and open up even as I

watch.  Without a word, she stretches out on the red, satin sheets,

parts her legs languorously, reaches out to me and draws me closer to

her.

	I come to my knees between her spread legs, my erection rearing out in

front of me,  a thick  lance of flesh, eager to plunge into her.  She

lifts one knee, slowly, letting it fall aside, showing me what awaits

my rigid and veined, male appendage. She grasps  my cock and tenderly

strokes it, running her long fingered hand from the base to the crown,

caressing it and loving it.  She strokes me a few times, certain that

I am firm and ready and then sits up.  Smiling at me as if for

permission, bends over my waist, opens her soft, red lips and then

closes  them gently over the enlarged head of my cock. My heart

hammers and my vision blurs as I feel her tongue ticking the underside

and then the wetness of her mouth as she sucks on me.  She does it

very slowly and with relish, enjoying the taste and the feel of that

rigid engine of procreation, drawing deeply until, by her expression,

she discerns the first drops of fluid on her tongue.  Moving her head

away, she gives my cock a tender squeeze and lies back down, parting

her legs and lifting both her knees in sensual, silent invitation.

	I eagerly accept her fervent summons, leaning forward betwen her open

thighs. She shifts her hips, adjusting herself, readying herself for

me. She wraps her hand around the distended shaft before her  - her

fingers tightening - and prepares to guide it to her.   But I resist a

moment, taking a second or two to see what I am about to enjoy.  Her

female cleft is now swollen wide and humid looking, the pink inner

lips like dew moist little flowers opening, waiting to be plucked.  I

pause, then lean away from my heated and ready target.  On impulse, I

scoot back, lower  my head and place my lips on firm flesh of her

abdomen, just above  the dark, crisp curls.  I kiss her there, then

suck, leaving a small red asterisk of passion to remind her.  I move

still lower, her pubes brushing my chin, the native scent of her sex

filling my brain. She places her hands on my head and arches  her hips

slightly, impatient for what I'm offering her.  I would never, never

have had the boldness or baseness to do something like this before,

but with her, anything that pleases is perfectly all right. I

cautiously touch the tip of my tongue to her velvety, moist flesh

there and she utters a muted gasp.

	Her natural fluids are piquant and thick with a disturbing pungency at

first, then after a moment, taste only slightly spicy. I suck at the

small ridge at the crest of her vulva, at the same time thrusting a

finger into her lubricated vagina.  When my finger is thoroughly slick

with her lubricious secretion, I work it into her anus.  She gasps and

then presses my hand tighter to her, helping me to insert my probing

finger in up to my knuckles.  I hook my thumb into her natural

opening, moving both my finger and thumb in the rhythm of sex, teasing

her.  In a short while, she shudders, stiffens and sucks in a sharp

breath.  I pull my hand away and sit up.

	She lies with her eyes closed, her face flushed and her thighs spread,

submissive in front of me, anticipating the meaty invasion of her

female vitals.  I grin as I lower myself on her again and press the

very tip of my turgid organ against her slippery opening.  I push and

she lifts to meet me, clutching my buttocks, quickly driving my

swollen cock deep.  Her arms loop around my neck and her heels press

the back of my thighs, urging me deeper still.

	Her smooth cunny-burrow is pleasingly warm and snug around the

thickened shaft of my cock as I move on her.  After a few thrusts, she

matches my easy rhythm  and I hear the faint, damp sounds of our

genitalia coming together, her soft grunts of pleasure, the sough of

the bedsprings under us, and her quick breath brushing my cheek as I

ride her.  After several minutes, her vagina is leaking such abundant

lubrication that it  puddles the red sheets under us and makes even my

bulky cock slide very easily in and out of her clammy heat.  She

tightens her arms a moment later and digs her fingernails into my

shoulders, letting me know she more than ready to be flooded still

more with my fluid offering.  I increase my stroke, my pelvis slamming

against her mount, pushing her hard into the thick mattress. She draws

her  knees up and with pumping hips and curled toes, energetically

matches me push for push.  She emits the first words since our meeting

then, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out with a long, harsh

'Ahhh-uh! Yes!' as she comes.  I feel her vagina grow tighter on me.

It seems as if I can't stop spurting, issuing pulse after thick pulse

of semen into her.  She welcomes that warm, vigorous tribute by

bracing her feet on the bed, arching her back and clenching her

buttocks as I drive my seed home into her.

	We lie together afterward, limp and sweaty, and after a while she

squirms out from under me.   I roll over to see her reach into the

bedside table and pull out her beads as I knew she would.  She sits

cross legged on the bed beside me, fingering the large beads and

smiling at me. She wants even more from me and I am willing. I gaze at

her saturated pudenda, exposed to my view and I feel myself beginning

to rouse once more.  She notices and grins wickedly, her deep eyes

fixed on my still flaccid penis.  Then, looking into my eyes, she

stuffs the beads up into her vagina and withdraws them slowly,

bringing them out again slickered with the combined juices inside of

her.  I raise my opposite knee as she lies down with her cheek on my

thigh, tensing slightly as I feel the hard, cool beads being pushed

into my anus one by one.  She works them all into me and when she is

done, she takes my penis into her warm mouth and begins to patiently

and exquisitely fellate me.

	Little by little, my cock responds. slowly growing longer and heavier

on her busy tongue. She sucks more urgently as she feels the increased

bulk filling her mouth, her saliva running down the thickening shaft.

She pauses, cupping my testicles in her hand, giving me a silent

question.

	"Yes," I whisper.

	She chuckles deep in her throat and mouths me again, this time taking

long, long pulls as she fondles my tightening balls.  I know what is

about to happen and so I brace for the almost agonizing rush of

pleasure as the pressure builds in my loins.  In a moment, I

involuntarily lift my hips, gasping, inundating her mouth with my milk

of lust.  At that instant, she pulls  the beads from my clenched anus,

popping them out one by one, massaging my throbbing prostate and

bringing hard shivers of  pleasure rippling up from my crotch and

belly.  Her head snaps up, globs of thick, white slime running from

her full lips and down her chin as she rips the last few beads from

me.  Then she does something she hasn't done before:  she falls on top

of me, takes my face in her two hands and gives me a hard, open

mouthed kiss, thrusting her semen flavored tongue deep into my mouth.

I am still astonished, tasting my own potent slime as she masturbates

my shrinking cock, sipping the last drops from it until it finally

goes totally satiated and limp.  

	We are done then and both of us can now go our separate ways, whole

again  for the time being, our libidinous secret safe, no longer

racked with frustration and need - until the next time.

	We dress and then she walks to the door with me, holding my hand,

just she always does. She turns to me and then kneels in front of me,

head down.  I touch her luxurious hair and she looks up at me with

momentary adoration blended with sorrow as I mumble a brief

consolation. Then I turn, open the door and step through it, not

looking back, feeling myself beginning to wake to the real world, even

as I walk slowly down the dingy hallway. 

	Then I'm awake, the sheets slimed with my nightly passion.  It is only

a dream, but even awake, I know I will be with her, unable to touch

her, yet feeling her pain and need, feeling her mind touching mine as

I sit on the other side of the grillwork, so close and yet so far.

And she, the long-suffering housewife, will say to me, as always does:



	"Bless me Father for I have sinned.  It has been ten days since my

last confession."  

	-  end  -



Trekat@theriver.com

Ol' Tomcat up a tree, and out on a limb!

Meeowrooowwwr!