I'll
See You In My Dreams
by Sterling
Chapter 1 of 3
First
it was just an odd dream. Through her jeans, Tara felt a hand on her
butt, which was still for a moment, then started stroking in a circle.
When she turned, there was no one there. The next night a hand went to
her butt while another started fondling her breast. Incensed, she
yanked the hand off her breast and turned around -- again no one there.
She woke up right after it feeling angry, but in the morning as she
recalled it she felt a bit of excitement too.
She was twelve,
her body was pretty much developed and she'd been having periods for
over a year. Some of the boys made her heart beat a little faster --
Steve especially. So it wasn't surprising if she started dreaming about
sexy things, right?
The next night she felt an arm grab her
around the waist, felt a boy's crotch press against her hip, and felt
his hot breath in her ear. His other hand zoomed right up between her
thighs and cupped the crotch of her jeans. She wriggled free and
shouted "No!" -- though it was silent in her dream. She came face to
face with -- Cyrus! She woke briefly. Why was she dreaming of Cyrus,
the shy, polite, smart kid? He was very uncool, and not particularly
sexy. She drifted back to sleep, but once again she sensed a presence
behind her. He grabbed her hips as she stood and began a humping motion
against her rear end. It took her a couple seconds to break free, and
she shouted a silent, "Cut it out!" Cyrus faded. She had been sleeping
on her right side and turned with annoyance onto her left, hoping to
leave that sort of dream behind her and just get some sleep. But there
he was again, reaching out to grab both of her breasts at once, pushing
her back against a wall. Once more she fought free, pushing him away
from her roughly.
When she woke in the morning, memory of the
dreams came back to her, along with a rush of anger. In French class
she was a little bit behind Cyrus and to one side, so she could easily
steal glances of him, but he didn't try to look back at her. Half the
boys in her class were still little kids, but Cyrus was one of the ones
who was growing up. He was taller, he had some zits, and his voice was
changing. In Earth Science her seat was a couple rows in front of him,
though still off to one side. A casual turn of her head let her steal
quick glances back at him. Three times she found he was looking at her,
and the third time he shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he looked
away. It was definitely more attention than he usually gave her.
Boys
looked at her more and more, and she felt pride in knowing she was
attractive. She was also a little annoyed when they stared at her chest
or her crotch; they didn't think she noticed, but it was sometimes
obvious. She made a note of how much they stared at other girls too.
Her willowy blond friend Melanie got the most looks, while the slightly
heftier, big-boobed Leslie got a lot too. Leslie was super-outgoing,
and it seemed her flurry of conversation rarely stopped.
The
next night it was more of the same; Cyrus stood in front of her,
looking a little awkward, but then reached for a boob. She intercepted
his hand and pushed it away, but meanwhile his other hand reached
between her knees and surged upward, pressing her skirt out of the way
and coming snug against her panties. She pushed that hand away, her
loud 'Cut it out!' silent as always. He faded and she drifted off to
sleep, but it seemed that only minutes later he was back, moving in
clumsily with his face, trying to kiss her, while his arm behind her
waist pressed their bodies together. She wriggled free and slept once
more. But he kept coming back to her in her sleep, groping, pressing,
humping against her. She noticed with dismay that his stiff cock was
now sticking out of his jeans as he pressed it against her stomach, and
later he was completely naked. In a few of the scenes she was in just
her underwear, then topless with a skirt. It seemed like even in her
dream world he wasn't going to actually force himself on her, but as
the dream kept coming back over and over, his advances were relentless.
When morning came she felt like she'd barely slept at all.
At what she judged was the right moment, Tara mentioned casually, "Do
you guys remember your dreams?"
"A little, sometimes, I guess," said Leslie. "Why?"
"I keep having this dream, over and over again."
"Yeah? What dream?"
"Well, um, a guy keeps groping me."
"Really?" Leslie asked with excitement. "Is he cute?"
"No! I keep pushing him away, but he keeps after me. Do you, Melanie?"
"What?"
"Do you have dreams?"
"I guess."
"What does he do?" Leslie asked. "How does he grope you?"
"Well, you know, boobs, between my legs, my butt."
"Oooo! Hormones, hormones! You're horny!"
"I am not!"
"Yeah, sure... Is he naked? With a hard-on? Does he try to do it to
you?"
"No! Forget about it, it's just a dream, that's all," said Tara. This
conversation wasn't going the way she hoped at all.
That
night was the worst ever, then the next was a little better. Then
Melanie caught her alone, and said, "You know those dreams you were
talking about?"
"Yeah," said Tara. She was exhausted, and didn't really feel like
talking much. "What about them?"
"Is it some particular boy? Like someone in our school?"
"Well, I don't know, I can't tell who it is," she lied.
"I
think I'm having something like that, the last couple nights. But I
know who it is. Cyrus! Can you imagine that? Why am I dreaming about
Cyrus?"
"Really?" whispered Tara, eyes wide.
"You do know who, right?" said Melanie. "You just didn't want to say.
It's Cyrus for you too?"
Tara nodded. "He keeps coming at me over and over. I can't sleep!"
"Is he weird with you at school?"
"No, nothing!"
"This is so bizarre."
They lapsed into a brief silence before Melanie spoke again. "Do you,
you know, like him at all?"
"No!"
"I mean, even a little?"
"No! Do you?"
"No... He is so smart, though. And funny sometimes."
That was all true, Tara realized, but he was most definitely not cool!
"You like him?"
"No! I said I didn't. It's just -- well, he is a boy, you know!"
"I thought you liked Carl."
"I do, I do! It's not like I like Cyrus, I told
you."
In
Earth Science, Tara turned to see what Cyrus was up to. He was looking
at her kind of dreamily and didn't look away instantly as he usually
did. Tara glared; Cyrus looked away quickly and turned quite pink.
The next day the two girls exchanged groggy greetings.
"Same thing?" asked Tara.
"Yeah
-- worse," sighed Melanie. "I know what you mean about how he just
never gives up. Why are we dreaming about him? He's nice -- I mean,
he'd never try to grope a girl for real."
"I think he knows what's going on."
"You're kidding! How?"
"I caught him looking at me, and I stared back, and he got all
flustered."
That
night Cyrus invaded Tara's dreams once more -- then the next thing she
knew, her alarm was ringing. She realized she'd slept soundly for the
first time in ages.
At school, she noticed at once that Melanie
was smiling to herself, and when she caught Tara's eye she gave a
conspiratorial grin.
The first chance they had to talk privately was at the end of lunch
period.
"That was so funny!" Melanie said, shaking her head.
"What? I slept well for the first time in ages."
Melanie smiled to herself for a moment more, then looked up. "You did?"
"He came to me once, then the next thing I knew it was morning."
"Oh ... My ... God! It makes sense."
"Why? What?"
"I decided I'd just see what happened. I mean... You won't tell anyone,
right?"
"No."
"Not even Leslie?"
"No, of course not! What?"
"I
kind of thought about it before I went to sleep. It's just a dream, so
what's the harm, right? So in my dream, I kind of knew what I'd been
thinking and I just let him. And he did. I mean, he was like an animal."
"Did he just keep on and do it to you?"
"Oh,
yeah! We'd both been naked in my dreams the night before, and this time
I just laid back and opened up, and he ... he went right in. Zoom!
Unnnh!"
"What?... Huh. Did it hurt?"
"Huh? No, it didn't hurt. He was in me all of ten seconds or something.
But he got deep -- way deep." Melanie smiled.
"Did he, like come in you? Or -- wait, it's just a dream."
"He came all right. He gasped and cried out, though I couldn't hear
him, then he just kind of collapsed as he pulled out."
"This is so bizarre."
"I know. But you said you slept well, right?"
"Yeah."
"So, he got his rocks off and then he left us both alone for the rest
of the night."
"This is creepy. So, was it disgusting? I mean letting him do it?"
"I
felt a little scared in my dream, but I kept saying 'It's just a dream,
it's just a dream!' And it was pretty exciting too! I mean, I can't get
pregnant, and no one can call me a slut... And it didn't hurt."
"Huh."
As Tara looked over at Cyrus during French, a couple times he seemed to
be smiling to himself.
That night Tara slept well the entire night, without a single visit
from Cyrus. She finally felt rested again.
The
next night, Cyrus appeared in Tara's dream again. He was naked, with
his cock stiff as anything. All she had on was panties. She was lying
back on the bed, and he leaned over her, panting as his mouth
approached her small breasts. She pushed him away and he disappeared,
but something stirred in the back of her mind -- what Melanie had said.
Cyrus
appeared once more, dove for her nipples, and this time she didn't push
very hard. He hesitated a moment and glanced up at her, and she decided
to let it go. The wetness of his mouth on her breast was a little weird
at first, but also a little exciting. She was letting a boy suck her
nipple! And then it started feeling good in the dream.
She felt
his hand on her panty crotch, rubbing for a second, then trying to get
his hand inside. She instinctively reached down to pull his hand away,
then hesitated. 'It's just a dream,' she told herself, then lifted her
hips and pulled her panties down and off.
Cyrus had a dopey but
excited look on his face as he crawled up into position. Might as well
spread her legs, she thought. Seconds later she felt it. First a warm
bump on her pussy lips. Then an insistent press with a blunt knob, then
a very insistent press, her girl flesh pressing inward -- and then her
tissues gave way and the knob was inside. It hurt, in a dream-like way
-- sort of like hurting in theory but not in practice. And then he
shifted upward, pressing hard, inward, filling her up. She had no idea
her pussy could stretch like that -- this humongo tampon, but so unlike
a tampon in every respect. Hot, insistent, self-propelled. It glided on
something, which must have been her dream lubrication -- she'd read
about lubrication on the web. Cyrus was pumping away like a crazy man,
filling her over and over again, bumping against her pubic bone, his
face contorted and distant. He kept going and going, and she started
feeling something good. Somehow the parts of her body that can make a
girl feel good were doing their job. The idea of getting stuffed and
humped was both exciting and disgusting, but now it actually felt good,
a warm glow of pleasure. Then Cyrus held his breath as he pumped
furiously, then collapsed on her. That must have been his orgasm. He
looked up to give her a goofy grin before he faded away.
Tara
woke from her dream and smiled to herself. Melanie was right -- it was
like a free chance to experiment. No disease, no real pain, no
pregnancy, no bad reputation -- Cyrus was hardly going to boast to his
pals of having a wet dream! That is, if he had any pals he confided in.
And it felt right somehow. She'd known ever since she'd found out the
facts of life that sex was in her future. First it was totally
unthinkable, then it was something to think about but incredibly gross,
then she could kind of see why maybe someday she'd want it -- and now
she'd done it! At least in her dreams. And a big chunk of the "gross"
part was gone, she decided. She explored with her hand inside her
panties. She was warm down there, and even a little damp. She stuck a
couple fingers in her pussy and could tell her hymen was still there.
She'd lost her virginity in her dream, but not real life.
Leslie approached her two friends. "You aren't avoiding me, are you?"
"Oh, no, of course not!" said Tara.
"You're always whispering."
"Yeah, sorry, but it's nothing to do with you."
"Is it those dreams?" Leslie asked, more quietly than usual.
"Huh?" asked Tara. She wasn't eager to broach the subject of dreams
with Leslie again.
"Yeah, I started having them too," said Melanie.
"Oh,
really?" said Leslie. "You know, I had one last night. At least what
you were saying sounded like what happened to me. Oh -- by the way, I
couldn't make out who it was. Do you guys have particular boys in your
dreams, like from school?"
"Yeah," said Melanie. "It's Cyrus --
for me," she added, with a quick glance at Tara. Tara hoped she could
become as confident as Melanie some day. To admit that a not-cool boy
was pawing her over in her sleep, and then not to 'out' Tara at the
same time.
"Cyrus, huh," said Leslie.
Tara expected a stronger reaction than that. She would have expected
something like a wide-eyed "Cyrus! That's so gross!"
"What about you? Was it someone we know?" asked Tara.
"No, I couldn't see who," said Leslie.
"Cyrus, by any chance?" Tara asked.
"No, not Cyrus."
They
got a strong hint later as class was about to begin, when Walter said,
"I dreamed about you, Leslie." His voice cracked and squeaked on the
"Leslie" part.
"Well, I don't want to hear about it!" snapped
Leslie. That wasn't like her, if all that was involved was Walter's own
dream. He was one of the more clueless boys around, and his skin now
had that oily look to it, matching his changing voice. Cyrus might not
be cool, but he was smart. Tara was glad it wasn't Walter who was
coming to her at night.
Tara also noticed that Cyrus was especially attentive to the exchange.
In
her dream, Tara knew how it was going to go. Cyrus was going to go
deep, pump a bunch of times, and shoot his wad. By now it was exciting,
but a little frustrating too.
In her dream, Tara rubbed her own
pussy as Cyrus approached her. As he tried to mount, she held him back
-- she didn't push him away, she just held him off while she rubbed,
feeling those good feelings accumulating. Cyrus saw what she was doing
and didn't disappear. He waited a few seconds and then began moving
into position. Once more she held him back. This time he wouldn't be
denied, and he struggled into position. Tara sensed that her choice was
to reject him entirely or let him do it. She let him do it. But as he
moved in, she grabbed his cock and rubbed it back and forth over her
vulva, getting her clitoris. But Cyrus could tell his cock wasn't going
the right way, and in exasperation he grabbed it from her and lined it
up where it really went and shoved. As usual, it felt nice to Tara --
nicer than usual, in fact. Pleasure built, but seconds later Cyrus
lunged and froze, and it was all over.
He came to her again, and
once more she held him off a little. Her fingers worked busily, getting
her excited. But the third time he wouldn't be denied any more, and he
lined up and plunged in. After a few strokes, Tara seized his butt and
held their pelvises firmly together. Her clitoris felt a restful sort
of glow from that. Cyrus was annoyed that his thrusting had been
interrupted. Scowling at her, he moved his own hands to her hips, and
then he had the leverage to get himself out-strokes regardless of how
she pressed. She let him thrust, and it felt great. He moved his hands
up higher again, and as she felt him getting excited, she gripped his
pelvis to her once more. Once more she felt a sort of restful glow, a
calm before the storm, perhaps. Quickly he clutched her hipbones and
resumed his fucking motion. This time he didn't let go of her hips, but
stabbed into her with greater depth and speed. Her pleasure was almost
there, almost. When it looked like he was about to come, she wiggled to
one side, then the other. It felt good, and it threw him off his
rhythm. He regained control and resumed his fuck then, and she felt
something happening. It was going to be all right, she knew. He was
going to fuck her harder and faster, more and more, and -- there it
was! She felt waves of pleasure, waves of ecstasy. And above all she
felt satisfied. There, for once she was satisfied too! She even had
time to hug him before the dream faded.
"I think I dreamed an orgasm," said Tara to Melanie a few days later.
"Oh, you're so lucky! Because this is getting out of hand. Walter came
to me last night."
"Really? You're kidding!"
"Yeah.
I pushed him away three times, but then I woke up enough to remember
it's just a dream. So I let him, and he was done in seconds." She made
a face. "Just as long as I don't have to do it with him in real life."
Just then Walter walked by, leering at Melanie. She called him over,
smiling.
Walter wasn't used to getting any sort of attention from cool girls, so
he looked a little uncomfortable.
"Walter, dear," said Melanie. "If you want to keep having nice dreams
about me, could you just keep quiet about them?"
"Huh? How did you..." Walter was flustered.
"Never mind, just do it. Don't tell anyone, OK?"
"OK, no problem," said Walter, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Goodbye."
When he had walked away, Melanie said, "and then Mr. White showed up."
"Mr. White!" He was the history teacher.
"And he started pawing you too?"
"Yeah, from the rear, grabbing me over and over, pushing my skirt up.
But I said, 'What the heck' and let him."
"From the rear? You don't mean your butt hole, do you?"
"Know,
the right place, just from the other side." She smiled. "I can kinda
see why big girls like all this stuff. I mean, I felt kind of like a
dog or something, but it was nice too. And then Cyrus showed up towards
morning."
"Makes sense. He came to me twice early on. And the second time is when
I think I dreamed I came."
"You
know, this stuff has me feeling around down there -- you know, for
real. I can get it to feel good, but I don't think I get an orgasm.
That's got like a release feeling to it -- satisfied?"
Tara nodded.
"Yeah,
so it's not an orgasm. I've got these three guys doing it to me during
the night, but I'm supposed to feel good too, right?"
"I don't know what the rules are about dream sex."
"You're right," said Melanie with a laugh. "But you said you got an
orgasm, right?"
The
conversation gave Tara a naughty idea. She wrote a note on her
computer, printed it out, sealed it in an envelope with Cyrus's name on
it, and left it in his French class desk when no one was looking. She
watched carefully when he found it and opened it. He looked surprised
at first, then turned a little pink. The note read:
"Can you dream about making Melanie come too? Look it up on the web!"
Melanie
lay on her back. Cyrus kissed her ear, then her lips. He moved down to
her left breast, swirling it with his fingers while he licked it. He'd
been doing this stuff more and more, and it felt great! Meanwhile, his
right hand rubbed slowly and smoothly up her inner thigh from knee to
just below her pussy, making her glow. Then his right hand cupped her
sex before dissolving into fingers with ideas of their own. Pointer and
ringman opened her labia and wiggled a bit, while tallman went to work
inside. He poked into her vagina briefly before sliding up to her clit,
where he lingered. Back down he hopped to repeat. It felt wonderful!
She
was ready for his cock, and she nudged him up into position. In he
dove, and it felt fantastic. He rode her differently than he used to,
and somehow his cock rubbed more against her clit. The pleasure was
wonderful.
He kept going, on and on, thrusting away, kissing her
ear and her breast. But after a while her pleasure started fading
instead of growing. Not this time.
She humped her pelvis up
against him rapidly, which by now he took as a signal that he should go
for it. And he did, stabbing her deep and hard, his muscles bulging
with the exertion, his eyes shut in approaching pleasure. Finally he
gave a tremendous heave, shoving her up on the bed, and held himself
still. She felt his cock twitching faintly in her pussy. His face
dissolved from harsh concentration to a relaxed smile of utter
happiness. Cyrus had come again. That was nice. She had not -- she had
never. That was not so nice.
"God,
it's frustrating," Melanie reported two days later. "In my dreams Cyrus
is doing more and more to me, and it feels better and better -- but I
still end up feeling so frustrated!"
"Oh," said Tara quietly.
Tara had meant for her secret note to improve Melanie's dream sex, and
while it had, now it seemed the greater pleasure also led to greater
frustration.
But the note had paid off for her too. It wasn't so
surprising that he was doing the same things with her, and she was
dreaming bigger and better orgasms. She wasn't feeling frustrated --
not at all!
Cyrus was on the whole very happy with the situation.
First
he'd had those dreams, over and over, of trying to get into Tara's
pants. In his dream he wasn't being very nice about it, which
embarrassed him when he woke up. The dream kept happening over and
over. Then it was interspersed with dreams of Melanie. Over and over,
he was trying to get at them, trying to, well, fuck them. That was the
right word. His sleep was rotten because he kept waking up dreaming of
groping and poking. The girls pushed him away, and he could see they
were pissed in the dream, but a few minutes later he woke up again,
with another fresh memory of trying to get one or the other into a
position where he could fuck her. He jerked off -- three times in one
night, once -- but it didn't help. His dream horniness was as strong as
ever.
And then he dreamed that Melanie had let him. Like an
animal he'd mounted her, shoved it in, and come in his dream. And then
he'd felt satisfied when he woke up. Smiling dreamily, he'd checked his
underpants. He was hard, but there was no sticky mess. And then he'd
fallen asleep and hadn't woken until morning, feeling more rested than
he had in ages. But he'd dreamed of trying to mate with her the next
night, and once more she let him.
He still dreamed of Tara too,
and she kept pushing him away. But then she'd let him too, and he'd
find himself having two or three very nice dreams every night. Usually
he'd fuck Melanie once, then Tara, and then towards morning wake up to
fuck Melanie again. And in his dream it felt fantastic -- it felt like
he really had worked his cock deep in their pussies, and then that
incredible release and fulfillment as he came up inside her. And that
was of course a boy's ultimate dream. Masturbation felt nice, but it
was scoring with a girl that really gripped a boy's imagination.
He
didn't understand why he never dreamed about Emily. Emily was shy and
quiet and smart. And she was beautiful to him, though he realized other
boys probably didn't think of her that way. He'd been daydreaming about
her for years. They used to be just sweet and tender thoughts. But
lately -- even before all the stuff with Melanie and Tara started
happening -- they were more urgent, about kissing her and making out
with her, and then she'd melt and tell him how much she wanted it, and
after making sure it was really, truly what she wanted, he'd grab his
cock and imagine burrowing into her pussy, bringing them both to a
rousing orgasm. That was a waking fantasy he had in bed at night, and
it was his real cock, in real life, shooting a real goopy mess.
Since
he'd had the dreams of Tara and Melanie, he had a much more satisfying
sense of what it would feel like to be driving into a pussy. He hoped
it would feel like that when he did it for real some day! Those dream
memories carried over into his waking masturbation. He found some hand
lotion to use as lube, and the wet feel was much more satisfying.
But
however much he thought of Emily in real life, however much he imagined
shoving his cock into her pussy as he stroked his own real cock when he
was awake, she never showed up in his dreams.
All that happened
with Tara and Melanie seemed strange in a way, but he figured it was
just hormones making him imagine strange things.
But there had
been strange things from the beginning. The way Tara had glared at him
one morning after he had dreamed a dozen times of trying to get at her
between the legs. And then Walter had mentioned his dream about Leslie
-- who had snapped at him. It seemed like a strong reaction to Walter's
simple, inane comment. But the real proof had been that letter he'd
gotten asking him to dream of being a better lover to Melanie. Where
the hell had that come from? It implied that Melanie knew he was
dreaming of her, and knew he was coming in his dream. She could have
discussed it with anyone, of course. But she and Tara were good
friends, and he was dreaming about banging both of them. Were they both
aware of it? Tara had glared at him, and it seemed likely Leslie was
aware of Walter.
He was intensely curious as to why this was
happening. He couldn't find anything about it on the web anywhere. At
the very least it looked like there was telepathy going on in his dream.
As
soon as Tara glared at him that day, he'd gotten embarrassed, because
he was being an incredibly boorish asshole in his dream. He was pawing
and groping and while he accepted the girl's 'no' at the moment, he
kept going back again and again in later dreams. He'd certainly never
treat a girl like that for real! He had fervently hoped he wouldn't
dream about Tara that way any more, and determined not to. It didn't
help; those dreams of pawing, groping and clutching kept happening. Yet
after he got the note about Melanie, he'd excitedly looked up how to be
a good lover. And those techniques had worked their way into his
dreams. That was a funny thing -- he couldn't make the dreams stop, but
he could at least in some respects change how the experience went.
Then,
of course, in his dreams Melanie had let him do it, and then Tara too,
and it had felt fantastic. If there really was a connection -- if it
was somehow the real girl he was meeting in his dream, then it was
thrilling. The idea that a cool girl like Tara could dream of giving
way to his rude, unfettered sexual desire was so exciting! And it was
even more surprising with Melanie, because Melanie was a sort of
goddess, gorgeous and popular but also kind and self-assured. You just
knew she'd never give in to peer pressure. And he thought she'd never
give in to a boy groping and pawing and trying to mate with her with
all the subtlety of a dog humping someone's leg -- not even in her
dreams.
Cyrus
was astonished when Melanie asked if he could come over to help her
study math. He was constantly on the alert for practical jokes. He had
some bitter memories of the other boys making him look like an ass. But
help with homework was a simple and easily defensible activity. And
while in his heart Emily was his true love, his dreams of screwing the
goddess Melanie night after night had its effect on him.
She led him up to her bedroom.
"So," he said, "was it the recent stuff on polynomials you were having
trouble with?"
"Yeah, I'm not quite getting it."
So
Cyrus sat at the girl's desk and they took turns "driving" at the
computer, and now and then turned to writing on a pad of paper.
He
thought she was sitting kind of close to him, but maybe not. Just
because she was a goddess whose very presence took his breath away
didn't mean she meant it that way.
After half an hour, she said, "My brain's getting kind of tired," and
sat back in her chair beside him.
Cyrus
thought she had been doing very well, on the whole. She seemed to pick
up the concepts just fine -- in fact, he had the sense that she already
knew them. He wondered if help with homework was a convenient excuse to
get him to come to her house, but quickly dismissed the idea.
"Do you ever remember your dreams, Cyrus?"
His heart pounded. Uh-oh. "Um, sometimes, yeah," he said, his voice
sounding to him like it was coming from far away.
"I dream about you sometimes," she said.
"Oh,
huh," he managed. His face felt hot. Although part of him thought it
was impossible, another part felt pretty sure she was dreaming of him
fucking her, over and over again, night after night.
Melanie giggled in a friendly way. "It's OK, they're just dreams," she
said softly, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
The
goddess was touching him! "Um, yeah, I guess when you dream it is a
dream," he said, realizing that was totally inane. He could feel
himself burning with embarrassment. This couldn't really be happening
unless it was a setup for a joke, right? He could just imagine holding
her hand, or moving in for a kiss -- the thought made him faint -- and
have her say, "Sucker!" as she pulled away and laughed harshly. And he
didn't want to be untrue to Emily -- although she had no idea he had
pledged his love to her. He couldn't help his dreams, but in real life
-- that was a different matter.
He rose from the chair. "Maybe we should get back to studying math
another time," he said, unable to look her in the eye.
After a brief pause, she said, "Well, OK."
"Hope it was helpful, but you seem to know it pretty well."
"Oh, I don't know. It comes and goes, and I feel more confident now."
"Bye."
"Bye."
And
with that he was out the door, burning in shame and embarrassment,
totally confused about just what had happened or why. Did Melanie want
to be his girlfriend? No one would believe that, and he would be teased
mercilessly if the other boys ever found out he had pretensions along
those lines. His next thought made sense but he couldn't quite take in
the emotional consequences: Did she want to do in real life what they
were doing in their dreams? His cock got very hard.
"It's still Cyrus at least once a night. You still have Cyrus and Mr.
White and Walter?"
"Yeah, I still do," said Melanie, who seemed to relax a little.
"Say, have you heard of a vibrator?"
"Um, I guess. That's like a sex toy?"
"Yeah. And I heard they're good for women who can't have orgasms."
"So?"
"Well, you're still frustrated, right?"
"Oh, that. Yeah, but how would I ever get a vibrator? And what if my
parents ever found out?"
"If I could get you one, would you try it?"
"How would you get one?"
"I'm not sure, but I have an idea. And you must have a secret place
your parents would never look. Would you?"
"I guess."
Tara's
cousin Gina was a senior in high school and casually told Tara about
her sex life. She'd mentioned vibrators. And sure enough, when Tara
said she had a friend who maybe could use one, Gina managed to get one
for her.
Melanie felt kind of dirty and naughty as she turned it
on for the first time. You put it -- down there? She was ashamed at
first at the intensity of the waves of pleasure.
But by holding
it in just the right spot, the waves of pleasure built, stronger and
stronger, and then -- wow, just like that, she felt that release, those
pulses of pleasure and the sense that she was satisfied. She found
herself using it just about every night.
In her dreams, as Mr.
White and Walter and Cyrus fucked her, she still felt that excitement,
that desire for more -- for fulfillment. In her dreams, it never came.
Feeling satisfied in real life was great, but the incompleteness of her
dream sex still left her feeling unsatisfied.