Phantasmagoria
Copyright 2003 Jennifer Ann
 
 
It seemed so surreal and dream like. I felt strange and detached.  I was in a room, this much I knew.  There were other women in the room with me.  I sensed them rather than saw or heard anything that would have cause me to have noticed their presence.  If I looked around, all I saw was light and mist.
 
There was no sound and everything was misty and hazy.  It was like being in a smoke filled room but there was no smell of smoke.  Or, imagine a room with so much dust in the air, the light sort of outlines everything with halos or auras but obscures the details.  The light was bright but not harsh on the eyes.  It didn’t seem to come from any one direction or single source but from everywhere.  There were no colors other than black and white.
 
The people I saw - or men I should say, they were all men - dark against the bright mist and other than broad physical proportions, featureless.  They never spoke.  However, as it may sound, when a man came up to me I could sense his emotions and my emotions would seem to synchronize with his.
 
Let me try to explain. Remember, I said I felt detached.  Somehow, I knew I was there to be assessed, to be bartered or purchased.  That didn’t upset me in the least.  It seemed so natural, as did everything else.  I wasn’t upset, pleased, excited or anxious.  I was disconnected from my emotions.  I was just there.  Time did not exist.  I could have been there minutes, an hour or longer, I do not know. I was not aware of the passing of time.
 
During that timeless interval, a dozen or so men approached me–one at a time–and looked me over.  At the time, I knew I was being appraised for something.  But what for? Again, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. Of the twelve or so, three of these men stood out from the rest.
 
The first, I call the accountant.  He was tall and thin.  He looked me over for what seemed like minutes; seemly, inspecting every feature, looking for imperfections and comparing me to the other women.  He reminded me of a bookkeeper from a Charles Dickens novel, sitting at his tall desk and scrutinizing the figures, except in this case the figure was mine. 
 
As he looked me over, I sensed admiration mixed with apprehension, a fear of missing something better.  I found myself ambivalent as to whether I wanted him to choose me or not.   I sensed he felt that he might find someone better.  Sure enough, he left thinking that he could always come back, if nothing better materialized.
 
Genghis Khan was another memorable shopper.  Now, it might be unfair to compare this guy to Genghis Khan, especially since I never knew Genghis Khan.  However, whenever I think of him, I get an image of Genghis Khan in my mind.  He was much shorter than my accountant and much broader in the shoulders.  His profile, which was all I could see, was stocky.  
 
When he scrutinized me, it was much quicker and less for the details and more for masochistic qualities.  My mental senses were overwhelmed with deep broodings and torment.  I found myself wanting to be punished and controlled.  My out-of-body sense of detachment was resigned to going with this brute and being his slave, sexual or otherwise.  Abruptly, he turned and left, taking his brooding tension with him.  Several others came and went before Adonis arrived.  
 
I was in my misty cocoon of detachment when Adonis walked up.  He had an athletic look.  His athletic looking shoulders and chest tapered to a trim waist and hips that flared slightly at his thighs.  I immediately felt a flip-flop in my stomach and tingling down below.  
 
He looked me over with a look that seemed to undress me.  I found myself wondering about his manhood and, what he would look like, what it would feel like in my hands.  The more he looked at me the more I tingled and the wetter I became.  I saw myself joined with him physically as one.  I wanted him.  I want to give myself to him.
 
Reaching toward me he offered me his hand.  I extended my hand toward his.  His warm and strong fingers closed around mine.  I felt light headed.
 
            *********************************************************
 
Instantly, I found myself standing with him in a different room.  This room was darker and warmer in a sense of coziness.  The light was still source less but it was a warm candle like glow. I sensed that there was a bed behind me.  I was in a bedroom.  He stood silently looking down at me.  

Slowly, he reached out and pushed one of straps of my shift off my shoulder.  He did the same with the other strap.  Gently he slid them down my arms.   The silken shift slowly slid off my shoulders, over my breasts and hips to puddle on the floor around my feet.  I was wearing nothing beneath the simple shift.
 
His eyes took in my body, as he looked me up and down, much like earlier.  This time he seemed pleased with what he saw.  I could sense his desire building and I grew heady with my feminine power.  
 
The sense of detachment was gone.  My senses were now heightened.  I stood there wanting him to touch me.  Finally, he leaned forward and kissed me softly on the neck, sending a chill down my shoulders and arms.  Slowly, he kissed up to my ears and back down to my shoulders.  My legs began to quiver and my womanhood started to assert itself.
 
He continued to kiss his way downward.  Kissing circles around and around my breasts, he moved ever inward until he reached a nipple.  Then drawing it into his mouth he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body which focused between my legs.   I moaned a soft moan of pleasure and felt as if I was almost in pain.  My knees wanted to buckle.  Blood rushed to my vulva, engorging it and nature’s lubricants gushed forth.  I couldn’t take his gentle teasing any more.
 
Dropping to my knees I reached for his manhood.  I found that he too was without clothing; his erection was proof of his excitement and desire.  Taking him in my hands I buried my nose in his pubic hair, drawing in his aroma.   I kissed his penis up and down its length, lost to all but the feeling of this wonderful male member in my hands and against my cheek.
 
Opening my mouth, I took him in.  A moan escaped his lips as I circled my tongue around his head and sucked.  His moan encouraged me to pleasure him more vigorously.  While stroking his shaft with my hand, I took one of his balls into my mouth and sucked gently.  I was rewarded with a gasp.  Wetting his shaft with my salvia I began to suck him more vigorously while moving my hand up and down his shaft.  Soon he was rocking his hips forward trying to force himself deeper into my mouth.  I guess he too reached the point of pain; he pushed my head backward, freeing himself of my mouth.  Reaching under my arms he lifted me and sat me on the edge of the bed.  Then kneeling, he spread my legs and buried his face between them.
 
My vulva was so engorged and sensitive that the first touch of his mouth on my clit caused a gasp to escape my lips.  His tongue made a couple of circles and buried itself in me as his mouth caressed my clit.  Within seconds I was rocking my hips and grinding my pelvis into his face.  Quickly the wave climbed and climbed, carrying me with it until it broke and I orgasmed, cumming in his face. 
 
With my climax, his needs and passion took over.  In what seemed like one graceful motion, he stood, reached under my armpits, lifted and shoved me backwards toward the head of the bed.  Moving forward, his thighs forced my legs further apart, opening me for the invasion.  
 
As the muscular silhouette moved forward to cover my body with his, I wanted nothing more than to give myself to him.  To be taken and taken hard.  I was his and I knew it.
 
His lips crushed mine just moments before his tongue and male organ claimed me for their own.  The fluid motion ended with his cock buried deeply inside of me, spreading my pussy walls and filling me totally.
 
I held on to his muscular forearms, pulled my knees up high, exposing and offering him my total being.  Using a smooth rhythm he drove himself deep into me, then pulled back, only to drive forward again.  By the third plunge, I was thrusting my body forward and meeting him in the middle.  Our pelvises pounded into each other.  My head came forward as I squeezed him tightly, while my breasts rhythmically followed his thrusts.
 
Four, five, six thrusts. I started building again.  Seven, eight times.  I was close to the edge.  Nine, ten, eleven and I went over.  This time it wasn’t a wave, it was Niagara Falls.  My fingers dug into his forearms and I cried out, as my head whipped from side to side. 
 
My orgasm was so intense that I didn’t notice him cumming until I realized he had stopped his thrusting and his head was tossed back as he ejaculated within me.  Then he would almost pull out, stop and drive forward again.  Like a slut, I loved it.  I continued to squeeze him, trying to get him to give me every drop of his semen.  I wanted it all.
 
When he was spent, he slowly lowered himself into my arms.  We lay together contented, in each other’s arms.
 
            *******************************************************
 
I awoke with sunlight filling the room.  For a moment, I was disoriented and lost. I remembered the night before.  
 
Where was I?  What happened last night? 

My brain cleared and realized that I was in my bedroom, my own bed.    
 
What a dream, I thought. It seemed so intense…so… real.
 
Then came an urgent call from my bladder. I was moving toward the edge of the bed when I felt it.  A quick pass of my hand between my legs and a glance at the soiled sheets proved my suspicions correct.  
 
I got out of the bed and was rushing toward the bathroom when something caught my eye.  Stopping, I turned my head and saw lying on the floor at the foot of the bed, a circle of fabric, a simple cream-colored silk shift. 
