it was not Rene but Mr. Hayden to whom I was ministering. From this confusing tangle of composite personalities, I drifted into another ambient. The effeminate Wainwright was licking my cunny deliciously, and as he paused for a moment to masturbate, I twisted around and cried: 'Wait! I'll show you a better way!' With my thighs across his face I took his small but rigid member in my mouth and sucked it until he had an emission.
When I finally awoke it was late noon and the echoes of some of these lurid dreams were still reverberating through my brain. I felt wet and sticky between the legs and my clitoris was in erection. When I had gotten my confused thoughts in order and separated the real from the unreal, I sat up in bed and glanced at-my companion.
He was sleeping soundly and quietly on his back, his curly head high on the pillow, lips slightly parted over white even teeth. He had thrown the blankets aside and was covered only by a sheet. I glanced downward over the recumbent form. Halfway down its length the sheet rose sharply, projected upward in the form of a little tent. As I fixed my eyes on this significant pinnacle-like projection, I saw that it was jerking sharply at short intervals.
I lifted the sheet without disturbing him. That indefatigable, tireless cock was standing upright, as firm and rigid as a bar of iron. White and graceful the stout column rose from the profusion of dark and tangled curls at its base, its plum-coloured head half-hidden, half-revealed under its natural envelope of satiny skin.
Still holding the sheet up, I looked at his face. It was in the peaceful repose of sound sleep. I thought of my curious dreams and wondered if he too was experiencing rare delights with some nebulous shadow land houri; maybe, even he was dreaming of me!
The thought set me aquiver. Softly I drew the sheet aside. I extended my hand, my fingers closed cautiously around the pulsing column. For a moment I was content to hold it thus, then, watching his face carefully for signs of awakening, I moved my hand up and down, slowly, gently, so that the silken foreskin closed over the scarlet head and then, receding downward, revealed it in its stark-nakedness.
Twice, thrice, I moved it so, pausing after each movement to see whether it was going to awaken him. At the fourth or fifth movement he stirred uneasily, murmuring some incoherent word. I waited, motionless, until his even breathing assured me that he was still deep in slumber, and began again.
'When he wakes up,' I thought, 'I'll make him tell me what he was dreaming about that made his thing hard this way.'
My wrist slid downward, the white elastic skin descended, and again the scarlet head protruded nakedly. As I paused, holding it in this position, I saw a round, glistening drop of limpid transparency emerge slowly from the orifice at the tip.
As I observed this natural reaction to my manipulations a wave of lewdness swept over me, and in an instant I was in a state of passion bordering on nymphomania, dominated by but one thought, one driving desire, arid that was to feel the rigid, pulsating thing plunging in my mouth, to suck it and lick it until the spurting essence brought relief to the frenzy which now possessed me.
I literally flung myself upon it, indifferent now as to whether he was awake or asleep, and engulfed the ruby head within the circle of my lips. In a regular fury of lust I sucked and licked and bobbed my head up and down to approximate the motions of ordinary fucking.
Of course, this violent disturbance aroused my companion instantly, but I was too engrossed in my own passion to be hardly more than aware that he was sitting up in bed, and that his hands were clasping my face as though to guide the movements of my bobbing head.
Indifferent to all else I sought only to force the living fountain between my lips to pour out its elixir as quickly as possible. Instinctively I knew that when it spurted fourth, my own organism would yield in harmony.
It was trembling now in that delicious borderland of anticipation, and needed but the final inspiration to precipitate its own shower of lust.
Between my thrusting, encircled lips the muscular flesh seemed suddenly to grow more taut. It held so for a second, and then with mighty convulsions poured out its tribute, wave on wave of hot, pungent ambrosia. Gasping, choking with the deluge which threatened to strangle me, I writhed in the ecstasies of orgasm which came upon me in the same moment.
The reaction to this furious excess was a spell of enervating lassitude.
As I came out of it and my chaotic thoughts took on a semblance of order, I was filled with amazement at the demoniacal frenzy which had taken possession of me. Next came the thought of what had become of the spurting jets that indomitable geyser had poured out. The odd, pungent taste was still in my mouth, but I recalled that I had almost choked with the quantity that had flooded it. When he had assaulted me the night before I had spit most of it out, though I had been forced to swallow some. I glanced at the bed to see if, unconsciously, I had ejected it. The bed was dry and clean. Seemingly, it had all gone down my throat.
I remembered the absurd story he had told me about the French girl.
'Well,' I observed, 'if it's true a girl can get a baby by swallowing that stuff, I guess I'm going to have one.'
'Kid, that was great!' he exclaimed. 'The first time in my life that I can recall that I really enjoyed being waked up.'
'I don't know whatever possessed me,' I murmured in some embarrassment. 'It came on me all of a sudden. I woke up and saw your thing sticking up. I knew you were dreaming something nice, or it wouldn't be that way. I thought I'd tease you by frigging it while you were asleep, and then, all of a sudden I just got a regular fit to do that and I couldn't stop myself!'
'It was wonderful, kid, wonderful! I always get a hard-on when I sleep late in the morning and there was something, oh, more than ordinarily thrilling in being waked up that way. I've had lots of women, but it never occurred to any of them to do that, I mean, while I was still asleep. It's something new to put in the book!'
'What book?' I asked.
'Oh, I was speaking figuratively. Something new to remember.'
'Did you really enjoy it so much?'
'Well, rather! If the old pego could talk it would say: 'thank you, a thousand times, Miss!''
'What were you dreaming about that was making it hard like that?'
'Well now, that's difficult to answer. Whatever it was it couldn't have been half as good as what really happened. I have funny dreams, but I can't seem to remember them clearly after I wake up. About all I ever recall is that there, was a girl in them. I must have been dreaming about you this time. Do you have dreams… I mean, naughty ones?'
'I had some fierce ones last night,' I confessed. 'I guess they were mostly the cause of me doing that!'
'What were they about, baby?' he asked curiously.
'Oh, mostly about you,' I lied, not wanting to say that I had dreamed of other men while sleeping at his side.
'Were they pleasant dreams?' he insinuated.
'Well, you saw what they made me do! I'll bet you think now for sure that I'm accustomed to doing that!'
'No, honestly, I don't, kid. I didn't give it a thought at first, but later I saw you weren't up to it. I felt kind of ashamed afterwards for having made, you do it.'
'Oh, I was mad it first, but I don't care now. It gave me a thrill, too. It's the truth, though, I'd never done it before. But I'll wager you've done it that way to plenty of other girls.'
'You'd know I was lying if I denied it. And you wouldn't like me any better, even if I hadn't ever done it before, would you?'
'No,' I answered slowly, 'I don't blame a man for having all the fun he can. If I were a man, I'd do everything there is that's naughty. I'd do that to girls, and the other way, too.'
'What other way?'
'The way you did first last night… with your tongue.'
'Oh, you like it that way, do you?'
'It just sets me crazy.'
'Kid, I like your style. I made a deal with the old lady to have you once a week, but to tell you the truth I wasn't sure that I'd care about coming back even a second time. You couldn't shake me now if you tried. I like a girl who hasn't the silly idea of trying to fool a man with mock modesty.'
'You're married… aren't you?' I inquired tentatively, though I knew he was.
