Dreamcatcher

Author's Notes: Alright. Before y'all get around to reading this story, I do have a few notes I have to make. The first one is the mandatory disclaimer: This is an original story. All of the characters and locations in this story are original, and similarities to any other characters or places, real or imagined, are purely coincidental. So don't sue me.

Forewarned is forearmed: I noticed that people actually weren't reading my very long and intricate works as much as I'd like, so I decided to cut down and try to make this chapter a little shorter than usual. I failed miserably at the attempt, and this chapter is plenty long, but hopefully the future chapters will be a little shorter and more bite-sized.

As I always like to note, I am a guy, in case that wasn't obvious. That means I don't actually have as much of an insight as I'd like to into the inner workings of the female mind. But that being said, I gave it my best shot. If you liked this chapter please review, and if you didn't... well, constructive criticism. Anyway, I'll waste no more of your time. Read on and enjoy!

Dreamcatcher
Chapter One: People Can Fly

State High School, Continental United States
3/15/10, Present Day
Early Morning

“Hey Brian! Brian! You dropped something.”

“Huh?” Brian stopped shoving his books into his backpack and looked around. Sure enough, a small gray-and-brown leather-bound book had quietly slipped out of his bag and onto the floor. The book looked relatively new, but had the mystic air of any ancient text about it – particularly because that the book had a strap, buckle, and lock, like a diary.

“Oh, thanks.” Brian picked up the book in one hand and shoved it back into his pack before zipping it up and slinging it around his shoulder.

Brian Reims was very much an average and every day high school Junior. He was 17, and of moderate height – maybe a shade or two under six feet tall, with gentle dark brown hair and matching dark brown eyes. He boasted a light tan and a medium, if somewhat lithe build, which made him an agile runner and a competent fighter by most measures, important qualities for an exuberant male teen. Brian might have been said to be of above average intelligence, but in fact Brian merely thought of himself as an experimentalist. Whereas most students restricted themselves to the humdrum of day to day life, he constantly thought of new ways to challenge himself and change his life for the better. Most of his teachers probably would have said that Brian had the unmistakable makings of an inventor. Brian's constantly wandering mind was most apparent in his clothing – with little thought to spare for clothes, Brian tended to throw on whatever was sitting in his closet. Today, that was an unmarked white t-shirt, a white hoodless sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans.

Following Brian out of the classroom with his own bag slung over his shoulders was Brian's best friend, Thomas, who had pointed out the lost book on the floor. Thomas was about an inch shorter than Brian and boasted a much lighter chestnut tint of hair and matching eyes, and a much thinner build. Thomas was very curious, and he often wondered what exactly was going through Brian's head. His curiosity also had an uncanny tendency to make him very observant, and Brian found Thomas' little distractions to be most enlightening.

Brian and Thomas stopped by their lockers, pausing briefly to swing their bags inside, before turning completely around and heading to the school cafeteria for lunch. Somehow managing to stay together through the orderly and paradoxically disorderly lunch line, the two boys heaped runny spaghetti and dry salad onto their trays and a grabbed a milk carton each. The lunch line at State High had a certain unreal quality to it, insofar as that everyone seemed to talk at once but no one could hear anyone else, making the entire effort of talking utterly useless. With no communication possible beyond hand signals, the two teens managed to slip through the hungry human wave and retreat to an unremarkable corner of the blanche white cafeteria, where the noise subsided to tolerable levels and people could actually hear themselves think.

With the distraction of an entire school's worth of chatter removed, Thomas was able to formulate the question that had lingered on his lips from the moment they left the classroom.

“Brian, what was that book? It certainly wasn't a text book of any kind. It sorta looked like a diary, with a lock like that.” Thomas looked across the table at Brian, who was halfway through a mouthful of public high school noodles.

Swallowing the rubbery stuff, Brian managed to formulate a response.
“It was.”
“A diary?”
With a second heroic swallow, Brian cleared his throat entirely.
“Yeah. A dream diary.”
“A... dream diary? But why would you be keeping a dream diary?”

“Hm... well, that's a question with an interesting answer.” Brian picked up a bread role from his table and poked it with one finger. It was stale. Apparently, dissatisfied, he dropped it back onto his tray, which it hit with a clang. Brian waited for the noise to die out before continuing his story.

“Do you know what lucid dreaming is?”
“Nope.”
“Lucid dreaming is when the dreamer knows that he's having a dream.”
“Okay. What's so interesting about that?”
“Well, here's the thing. Dreaming is just all in your mind, right? The important bit is that it's YOUR mind. At some level, you're still in control, even though you're dreaming. If you're aware that you're dreaming, you can begin to consciously control what you dream. You can change things. Make certain things appear and disappear, make things happen, shape the world to your whim because it's your world. It's all in your mind.

A few months ago, I decided I wanted to be able to control my dreams, so I started doing all the stuff that you're supposed to do to dream lucidly. There's a lot of crazy new age stuff mixed up in there, but I just stuck to the basics. You concentrate on dreaming lucidly before you go to sleep, you tinker with your sleep schedule a little bit, and you keep a dream diary.”

“Hm... so you're keeping a dream diary because you think it's going to help you to control your dreams?”

“Yeah, that's pretty much it in a nut shell. And I already can control my dreams – at least, I'm getting a lot better at it. My dreams are I getting clearer and I'm getting very good at manipulating them.”

Thomas' brow suddenly furled “Okay... so why do you have your dream diary at school?”

“In case I fall asleep in class.” Brian grinned slyly and both of the boys chuckled. “That and sometimes I can't remember dreams for hours after I wake up, and I want to be able to write them down before I conk out again or forget about them.

I have my dream diary here because I think I'm getting to a really sensitive phase. I could dream lucidly after only a couple of days, but now I'm dreaming lucidly every night and I have considerable control over my dreams. It's like I'm just on the edge of a breakthrough.”

“I see. And what exactly will you do in your dreams once you have control over them?”

Rather than replying in words, Brian stared over Thomas' shoulder. Thomas pivoted in his chair and followed Brian's gaze.

“I see,” said Thomas and smirked.

Both boys were staring at a girl several tables away, and though neither could see her very well, they both knew who she was. The first and most visible aspect of the girl was her hair: she was remarkably blonde, and allowed shining gold hair to freely drop down about an inch past her shoulders. She was short – probably at least a head shorter than either Brian or Thomas, with a thin but lithe and athletic build, and her skin was only lightly tanned. She still looked relatively pale at a distance. As she turned her head, her pale but extremely pretty face came into focus – and both observers could clearly see her bright green eyes and pale red lips, stretched into a delicate smile. Even the blind could see that she was very, very cute.

As she stood, apparently to bus her tray, the fabric of her white blouse stretched taut across her chest, showcasing her pleasantly large chest and c-cup bust. Her tight blue jeans hugged her wide hips and shapely, womanly thighs and ass, attractive curves on her light frame. Her name was Rebecca Dalton (“Becky” or “Becca” to her friends) – , a 17 year old junior, and she was, in Brian's opinion, the cutest girl in the school. Most fortunately for Brian, she didn't have a boyfriend, but he didn't know her and didn't have the nerve to approach her, and apparently neither did much of the multitude.

Brian watched as Rebecca walked away, her gait causing her hips to wiggle seductively.

After a pause, Thomas said. “I see,” again. “So that's what you're planning to 'do'.”
“Who is more like it.”
“You can't get her in real life, so you're going to get her literally in your dreams.”
“Pretty much.”
“I don't know if that's sad or cute. I guess I'm not really one to judge.”
“Hey, I'm going to get luckier than you tonight.”
“Touché.”


The last bell of the day rang just as Rebecca and Elena were walking out the door of State High.

“I'm telling you 'Lena, I've been really tired all day. I could barely keep my eyes open in class.” Rebecca was oblivious to the fact that her tired, swaying pace was causing her butt to bounce sensuously, attracting more than a few glances as she passed by. She stifled a yawn.

“Well, you probably shouldn't have stayed up so late last night. It serves you right for procrastinating on your homework, really. You're going to lose sleep if you put off lots of work until late at night, plain and simple.”

Elena, one of Rebecca's friends, was a short girl, about Rebecca's height, with black hair and dark brown eyes, and but a similar light tan. She was considerably more responsible than Rebecca. Rebecca might not have been the partying type, but she still found ways to put off her homework – in honesty, most people did, because few really like working.

“I'm going to make a resolution, then,” remarked the blonde. “From today on, I'm not going to put off any of my homework.”
Elena snorted. “We'll see how long that lasts. I'll talk to you tomorrow and check in on that promise then. 'Kay?”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” Rebecca called out her goodbye while taking a right onto the sidewalk and towards her house, only a few blocks away. Elena turned left towards the parking lot to catch her ride home.

Rebecca walked for a few minutes in silence. She didn't have much homework tonight, and she was very tired. She'd have been shocked if bags weren't forming under her eyes. Sleep clearly wasn't something she could procrastinate on for much longer.

After only ten minutes of walking or so, Becky had reached her house – a plain, white two-story building with a brown shingled roof and large French windows on the lower floors and upper bedrooms and a single circular window in the center of the upper floor. It had a cleanly kept, green grass front yard and a similar back yard with a very small hot tub, with wooden porches in both the front and the back of the house. The house also had a connected garage, similar in color with a brown, wooden door.

Becky walked up to the front door, swung her backpack off of her shoulder, unzipped the outer pocket, took out a key, and unlocked the door.

“Mom? Dad?” No answer. Becky walked out of the foyer and into the hall, opening the garage door and taking a peak inside. Only stark concrete greeted her. Both her father's convertible and her mother's van were gone, probably meaning that they were both still at work. Not an uncommon occurrence.

Rebecca shrugged and closed the garage, went upstairs and into her bedroom, tossing her bag carelessly on the floor. She was really tired. Fortunately for her, she'd finished her English reading and most of her math during her free period (though she wasn't sure how much she remembered of either) and her chemistry teacher had spared them from any homework. If she could only finish her math homework, she'd be done for the evening.

Becky slid down into the chair beside her desk and collapsed backwards. As she tried to gather the resolution to finish her work, her mind rebelled and forced her attention onto her surroundings. In her drowsy state, Becky thought her mind seemed to be telling her, “No, math is so boring! Why not not just look at all the pretty colors around you instead?”

Mrs. Dalton, Rebecca's mother, had been a very traditional woman – blue for boys and pink for girls. Rebecca was an only child, so her mother's doctrine had been much simplified: pink for girls. Rebecca's room was large and had no wall paper, but the entire room was painted a light pink. The walls, the ceiling, and the carpet were also the same light shade of that one color. Fortunately for Becky, Mrs. Dalton had liked a milder shade and if you squinted, the room looked more white than it did pink, which was a small mercy.

The interior pink spree had not stopped at immovable walls, though. The rest of Becky's surroundings also had a disturbing tendency to be pink. She had a pink dresser, and her bed (though fundamentally constructed from brown wood) had pink sheets and a pink comforter with a pink pillow and pillow case, and this was a darker, more reddish shade of pink that was harder to drown out. This had been the case for as long as Becky could remember and it didn't look as if it would change before Becky went off to college for a change of venue. Fortunately, Becky didn't detest pink, she was just a bit sick of it, and she picked out most of her clothes herself. Thus, her closet and dresser were filled with non-pink things, like the white blouse and blue jeans she was currently wearing.

Becky's desk, mercifully brown, was covered with books, papers, and other schoolwork. Next to it sat her equally brown bookcase (which her father had made at some point in the distant past) filled with a combination of fiction and Rebecca's old school books. There was an assortment of junk littered over Becky's floor, though she was usually quite neat, she could somehow never bring herself to clean her own room. Her walls were by in large bare, decorated only with a few awards, a clock, a calender, and a map of the state, as her parents didn't approve of posters and the like. It wasn't as if she had any to put up anyway.

A single, full-length stand-alone mirror sat in one corner of Becky's room, adjacent to her window – a large portal with (yes) pink shades and drapes. She had an old radio in one corner of her room, which she hardly ever used, and a large, old box with a pile of her old possessions that she had never moved to the attic. That was pretty much everything of significance around her, and as such, could not hold her gaze any longer.

After dazedly distracting herself for a few moments, Becky yanked her attention back to her homework. She hammered out some kind of solution to the last few problems on her math homework and shoved it back into her bag. Though the effort only took her only half and hour, she somehow felt twice as tired as a consequence. Rebecca glanced up at the clock that hung over her desk. It was only four in the afternoon. Still, as she stifled a yawn, she knew had to sleep. Caffeine and other stimulants could delay the inevitable only for so long.

Rebecca drew the blinds on her window and stripped off her blouse and jeans. As she went through the motions of going to sleep, she found herself in front of her mirror and stared at herself. Her reflection stared back. She was wearing nothing but her underwear: A white bra with minimal lace around the edges and matching pair of white panties. She admired her own figure – she had beautiful breasts, substantial for her size, and lovely curvaceous hips, culminating in her own shapely and well-exercised ass. Her legs were long and smooth, in her opinion, and she was very thin, but her ribs didn't show near her stomach at all. Best of all was her face. She tossed her blonde hair so it fell and clustered around her shoulders, and her green eyes shone. She felt very pretty. She wondered briefly why she had never had a boyfriend.

With a yawn, she was reminded what she was in the middle of doing. Becky undid her bra, exposing her well proportioned, round breasts and her perfect red nipples, erect from their slight contact with the cold air. Not bothering to take off her panties or change into any other night clothes, Becky pulled a dark green gown out of her dresser and slipped it around herself. She quickly gathered her dirty things, dropped them into the laundry basket downstairs, and gave her teeth a quick brush.

Nightly routine finally out of the way, Rebecca got into her bed, flicked out the lights, and the moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep.

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Brian, on the other hand, was having much more trouble sleeping (though he didn't know that). The time was now nine o'clock in the evening and for what was quite possibly the first time in his life, Brian was excited to go to sleep.

He'd had enough trouble getting here, sure enough. He'd had to get through about three hours of homework and had a few errands to run, but he'd completed every task before him with the frenzied thought that once he finished working he could go to bed. Ironic.

Still, exhausted as he was, he couldn't sleep. He was too excited, and (after all) this was a few hours before he usually got to bed. Leaning over in his bed, Brian could see the time glowing on his LED clock. 9:00... 9:10... 9:15... he blinked... 9:30 – dammit, he had almost had it – he hadn't been this eager to get to sleep since Christmas Eve when he was a little kid – 9:35, then 9:40 – he was never going to get to sleep. Never going to get to sleep. Never going... to get... never...

And the harsh and impenetrable fading thoughtlessness of sleep greeted Brian, and he embraced it. Time and timelessness flashed by.

Brian was sitting on a park bench. There were trees around him. He could hear birds. But the fog – the fog was so thick he could barely see anything.

What was he doing here? That's right. He was counting. Counting his fingers.

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two three, four.

Wait a minute. That wasn't right. Humans didn't have four fingers did they? One, two, three, four. He was sure they didn't. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight overall. Well, at least he had the same number on both hands. But still, he was sure that people had five fingers. That's why it doesn't go six, seven, ten. Ten comes after nine because people have nine-plus-one fingers. He was sure. He was more than sure.

And then the realization came. So obvious. This was a dream.

Brian looked back at his hand. The missing fingers – his thumbs – had popped back into existence and were sitting on his hands. Brian looked around at the park surrounding him. With a thought, the fog that had obscured the area was gone, and the park was all that remained – full of trees with benches and lights and walkways.

“I want this park to disappear.” Brian spoke aloud. “Disappear, park!”

No sooner was the order given than executed, and Brian was floating alone in the middle of an infinite void. Black, black, so very black.

Brian didn't like black. A moment later, a long infinite white plane appeared, solid and real, surrounded by the void. Brian was standing on it.

“That's better. How about a mirror?”

A large, body length mirror (which had been what Brian was thinking about) appeared, and he examined his lithe form. He had a date with Becky tonight and his current appearance simply wouldn't do.

Brian thought about what he could change. In an instant, he was wearing a suit. A suit? Nah. His clothes turned into a red shirt and jeans. Brian examined his brown hair and eyes. They turned blonde and green respectively. Not really his colors. They turned back. What about his skin? Brian turned blue. That was... unexpected. He turned himself back. Well, he could be a little taller – that was certainly something. And maybe broader around the shoulders. Brian became bigger (or the mirror became smaller -- it was harder to tell). That was pretty okay – he'd keep that. He might as well keep his hair color and eye color too, but what about his clothes?

A ninja outfit, maybe? Instantly, Brian was dressed as a ninja. That idea kind of appealed to him. Sex ninja! He was going to be making Rebecca his fuck toy – ninja-ing away her virginity (was she a virgin? Well, she would be in this fantasy) seemed to be appropriate. Still, maybe something a little different. In a thought's time, Brian was wearing a suit, but with a ninja mask and cape. Cool.

Now all he needed was someone to play with. Brian concentrated on Rebecca. He thought of her tight white blouse, covering those luscious breasts, her hot, sexy ass, her curvy figure, her blonde hair and her pretty green eyes – he thought of her on all fours, first crying for him to stop and then begging for more. Brian expected his imagined sex partner to appear in front of him, ready to service and pleasure him. Instead, he felt a yank around his head, and suddenly the mirror, the plane, even the blackness seemed to disappear. Though he had no reference, there was no doubt about it – he was going somewhere. A moment later, he arrived.

Becky was falling. She couldn't believe it – her life was going to end here. She was too young to die, but it couldn't be helped. She was falling and falling and falling, and the ground was coming up so fast...

Brian blinked. He was in bright sunlight, floating near the clouds. Below him was nothing but brown and green, very solid-looking earth. There didn't seem to be anything here – well, so much for fucking Rebecca. What in the hell had he done wrong? Maybe if he tried again –

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A small black dot, descending to the earth below extremely quickly. Whatever it was, it wouldn't hit for some time – there was just so much sky – but it was dropping nonetheless.

Brian began towards it, then realized that there was no way to go towards it – he was simply floating. He'd turned off gravity, somehow. But there was a simple solution.

“People can fly,” he said, loudly and clearly. “I can fly.”

And then he could fly. With a tremendous burst of speed, he went towards the falling dot.

As she watched the ground loom closer and closer fearfully, Becky thought she heard something. A voice? Words? What was it? People can fly? She certainly couldn't fly. She was falling. She was going to hit the ground and die. She wished she could fly, but wishing doesn't make something so.

A few moments later, Brian arrived directly above the falling dot, which had now clarified into the figure of a girl. A specific girl, as it should so happen.

Becky. He could see her quite clearly. Blond hair, hips, white blouse – actually, she was wearing precisely what she had been wearing at school today (and what he had originally visualized). Brian wasn't exactly sure why she was falling – he hadn't imagined that, but the fact of the matter was that she was falling. He didn't exactly want to witness her dying. That would ruin the mood. He dove down after her and caught the descending form around the waist.

Becky blinked. She was slowing down! The ground wasn't getting as large as quickly. Suddenly, she had stopped falling entirely. She was suddenly going in the reverse direction – upwards again? But how was that possible? Becky felt something around her waist. Hands! She pivoted her head and looked above her. A large man, wearing a suit but with a masked and unseen face, was hauling her upwards by her waist. She was dumbstruck. What was going on here? Was this a superhero?

The masked man looked down at her.

“Hello, Becky.” How did he know her name?

“Don't worry. We're just getting started here.” Just getting started?

In a moment, they had ascended very, very high – much higher than she had started to fall from.

“Now, Becky, we'll see if I can get you to cum before you hit the ground.” What!?

Her brain had barely processed the statement before the figure had let her go again.

Becky screamed and screamed as she was falling once again. She was falling facing the ground, she could see it getting closer, but they were so high... she'd fall for an eternity before she hit, but she still couldn't help but scream and scream until...

A strong hand clamped around her mouth, stifling her scream. The masked man had followed her down, and grabbed her around the throat, so she couldn't make a sound. But she could still breathe... why could she still breathe?

“Hush, my pet,” said the figure. “We'll see if we can't get you to make some different sounds.”

Brian willed a knife into being in his free hand. With one deft motion, he cut through the material of Becky's blouse, which fluttered off her and whipped above the two falling figures. Another series of cut relieved Becky of her jeans. Beneath them, she was wearing only a white lace bra and a pair of similarly lacy white panties, outlined with pink.

“Oh, what a good little slut you are, Becky. Did you put on those sexy things just for me?” Becky turned to look at the masked man with fearful eyes. Was he going to attack her? He had a knife. Or was he, as he was strongly implying, going to rape her? Didn't he realize that they were falling, that they would die when they hit the ground? Or maybe that was the point. He seemed to be able to fly. Maybe he planned to enjoy her and then fly away while she was liquidized on the ground below.

Suddenly, a shock of pleasure ran through Becky, putting an end to her thoughts.

Brian had cut away Rebecca's bra, which went the way of her blouse and jeans, leaving her only her panties. Brian willed his knife out of existence, which popped away, before moving his hand to feel his partner's lovely c-cup breasts. They were soft but somehow firm, very enjoyable indeed. Brian pinched the nipple and Becky shut her eyes, apparently enjoying the sensation.

Brian moved his other hand away from Becky's mouth and began to fondle both of her breasts at once, squeezing and groping, rolling the erect, red nipples of her mounds between his fingers. Becky bit her lip and closed her eyes even tighter, apparently trying to keep in a noise very different from a scream. Brian noticed that it was strangely quiet, even though actually falling through the air at this speed would be very loud.

“Come on Becky, there's no need to be ashamed. No one up here but you and me.” Brian rolled the girl over, pulled up his mask slightly, and began to lick one of her breasts while continuing to finger the nipple of the other, using his newly free hand to support the falling girl's head.

A bead of sweat formed on Becky's forehead. Brian lightly tongued and sucked Becky's nipple, rolling it gently between his teeth while pleasuring the other... the sensation was too much for Becky to take. She moaned in the sheer ecstasy of sexual pleasure and immediately blushed with embarrassment.

“That's a good girl. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Brian flipped Becky back over – and the girl kept her eyes firmly shut to avoid the vision of the approaching earth – and Brian allowed his hands to roam around her body. He groped her breasts and felt the softness of her hair, the curve of her hips, and the smoothness of her legs. Meanwhile, he began to kiss her, starting at the base of her neck and slowly moving down, down her spine and her back.

Becky cringed with the pleasure that this masked man was inducing in her. Every kiss, every grope, every caress – every stimulation seemed like a shock to her system, heightening her sexual arousal. The masked man kissed between her hips, very close to her panties. Becky moaned again.

Brian could smell something. He momentarily stopping kissing Becky's lower back and looked for the source, and he quickly located it.

“Oh, Becky, you dirty, naughty girl. You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

Becky blushed prettily. She had to admit, this felt very good – she just wouldn't admit it to the stranger molesting her.
“I know you are. You're already soaking wet! Oh, what a good little slut you are.”

Brian licked Becky along the curve of her spine, causing the girl to shudder with pleasure as the boy's tongue played along her back. As Becky's body contorted in response to the stimulus of his mouth, Brian moved his hand from one of her breasts, and dropped it down into her panties.

With one deft movement, Brian inserted two fingers into her ready sex and they reemerged a moment later, dripping with the girl's sweet and sticky juices. Brian smiled at the sight and put his fingers before Rebecca's confused eyes.

“Well, look at that. You're positively dripping.” Becky blushed even redder still, though Brian – above her back -- could not see her pretty face.

“I think you should lick them, my dear.” Becky's eyes widened with shock at the suggestion but she did not open her mouth. Brian dragged his other away from her breasts and down, under her thin panties to her sensitive snatch, and thrust two fingers just past the entrance. Surprise and pleasure combined and Becky's head bucked as she gasped. Seizing the opportunity, Brian thrust the two fingers into the girl's mouth.

Becky's tongue contacted her assailant's fingers, still dripping with her fresh juices. The taste was unusual but sweet – good, in a very strange way. Further down in her body, Brian two fingers circled and wiggled teasingly, clouding Becky's thoughts and judgement. Suddenly, as if by reflex, her tongue began to obediently lick the laden fingers, cleansing them of their load. Meanwhile, Brian's fingers probed slightly deeper than the edges and entrance of her pussy. Only a few millimeters in, Brian suddenly met resistance. He smiled and pulled his head to Becky's ear.

“Mmm... Becky, you never told me you were a virgin. This is going to be more fun than I thought.” The wind whistled around Becky's ears and the ground grew larger – with a detached jolt, she remembered that she was falling, that she was going to die, that this was going to be the last experience she ever had. Suddenly, Brian plunged his fingers further into her, and Becky's membrane strained to the breaking point, causing her to cringe with pleasure.

Brian removed his old fingers, now clean of juices, from Becky's mouth and quickly replaced them with their newly wetted counterparts and Becky continued to obediently suckle her own sex juices. The taste was sweet – very odd, not what she had imagined at all.

“That's it. That's a good girl. Lick it all up. You like the taste, don't you?”

Almost against her will, Becky nodded. For some reason, she could not stop licking. The action seemed wired into her.
Brian's free hand returned not to her pussy, as she had guessed (and some part of her had hoped) but to her breast, which it began to grope and tease. Brian again moved his head to her ear, first kissing it and nibbling on it lightly before whispering to her.

“I think it's time to stop beating around the bush. Do you want me to fuck you?”

Becky stared apprehensively down at the ground. It seemed far off, but was approaching quickly. Did she want to die a virgin? Did she want to die in pain or in pleasure? The answer seemed strangely obvious. She nodded.

“Excellent.”

Brian's strong hands pushed Becky over – no longer was she on her belly, as she had been during her attacker's foreplay, but she was now “standing” on her head – she was diving towards the ground head-first while her feet pointed skyward. With one deft movement, he ripped off her panties, her last article of clothing – revealing a cute, pink, and dutifully shaven pussy.

“Oh. A shaven virgin. What a dirty slut you are Becky...”

The masked man remained flat on his stomach while Becky was now in a headward plunge, though the man retained a firm grip on her hips. With another deft motion, the man forced Becky's legs back towards her head, so they were curled back over her body, her ass now upwards with her head still at the forefront of her fall. Retaining a grip on one of her thighs, the man reached down to his pants with his other hand and undid the zipper, revealing a large and fully erect penis.

Becky did her best to tilt her head upwards, though it was difficult to see between her own legs. The stranger forced them further apart (oddly, it didn't seem to strain her – was she really that flexible?) and she had a better a view. She nearly gasped at the size of his member. He was going to put that into her? The thought terrified and strangely excited her – droplets of her juices were spewing from her pussy and shooting through the air, giving the odd appearance that the liquid was falling up.

The stranger brought back his other hand and clenched her hips tightly, took aim, and with one thrust, he was inside her.

The blonde gasped as she felt herself pierced, speared by a man's cock for the very first time. The massive instrument pierced her hymen as though it were nothing, but she felt no pain. Wasn't it supposed to hurt the first time? The member plowed through her, seemingly to her very core, her dripping sex having created a well-lubricated path for it. The walls of her pussy tightened around the invader. The sensation was remarkable.

It was the strangest position Becky had ever found herself in. Falling headfirst through the air, naked, her legs curled back towards her head, her snatch exposed and penetrated by a complete stranger. Her mind did not have spare capacity to contemplate the strangeness of her situation, however. Just an instant later, the stranger began to buck his hips, thrusting in and out of Becky, causing ever fiber of her body and every thought to concentrate on the pleasure – to enjoy and to be enjoyed, to enhance.

As Brian thrust and out of his pretty partner, her pussy tightened around his tool. Despite her considerable lubrication, the friction between the two of them created indescribable pleasure. Waves of sensation pounded through Becky and Brian with every timed thrust of the boy's hips, waves that seemed to build and concentrate at Becky's core. She threw her head back and moaned with pleasure, screamed to the heavens that surrounded her and the earth below her, approaching so fast. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that sex would feel this good.

Brian pumped in and out, in and out, each thrust sending both of the pair closer and closer to paradise. Brian grunted with satisfaction of his partner.

“You're nice and tight, Becky, but you could be a little tighter.” Concentrating (hard to do, but not impossible mid-coitus), Brian imagined a larger penis. Corresponding to his whim, his cock increased itself immediately, of greater length and girth, expanding to fill Becky – more than fill her.

Becky's eyes popped and her back arched as she felt the thing grow inside her, like a living snake. It was huge! Surely, it had to be shredding her insides, destroying her – but why was it then that she felt no pain – only pleasure consuming her?

Brian increased the pace, pounding in an out of her, barely able to concentrate through the pleasure he was feeling, barely able to maintain a rhythm instead of simply and instantly taking what he wanted from her – what he needed. Becky, for her part, couldn't do anything but moan. Their position – impossible for a normal couple in a normal bed, gave the stranger absolute maximum penetration into her as each stroke was fueled by force of lust and gravity both.

Pleasure and heat built and built in Becky's core, and she screamed and screamed, music to her lover's ears, who pounded harder and faster still. His cock was incredible – she had never before felt the feelings it produced. She writhed and wriggled, trying to produce a maximum amount of pleasure. She twirled her hips and felt the spear of flesh pierce her deeper still.
Green eyes ablaze, she yelled, “More! Please! I love this! I love... I love...!”

With one mighty thrust, Brian cut her declaration short. Rather than complete the sentence, Becky's head was thrown back forcefully, and she sung her sexual satisfaction with a moan.

The pumps felt wonderful. Becky was so beautiful and she felt so wonderful – she felt excellent, a perfect toy. In Brian's mind Becky was a toy, a construct that he had whipped up only to please him, and she was succeeding in that role very, very well. Every thrust brought her slick sides against his cock, the sensation of her warm and moist snatch was positively incredible.

Brian gave three jagged pumps, one after another, each digging deeper and deeper into Becky's depths. Brian grunted and Becky screamed and tossed her head – her hair waved and glistened in the light as they fell through the air.

Becky looked down – she could see the ground only seconds away from her, but she no longer cared. She was going to die a happy girl, a nice, big cock in her, stimulating her to climax.

She was plunging down through the air. She was about to die.

Brian thrust into her again and again and again, he was going so fast now and she felt so good. Becky felt pressure building and building inside her, pressure that was begging to be let out, an outlet that her voice alone could not provide.

“Oh!” she squealed. “I'm... I'm!”
“Becky, I'm cumming!”

A strange, warm sensation filled Becky as both partners reached their peaks. Becky tossed back her head, her eyes bright and sparkling, an angelic beauty surrounding her as she hit orgasm, just at the same time Brian did. They were still falling. Becky's head was only inches from the ground – Brian thrust up his hips, trying to support Becky on the strength of his cock alone and drag her away from the ground faster than she fell. The pleasure was incredible and she was lifted up –

Becky was still perpendicular with the stranger but he was somehow able to maneuver so his feet were now pointing towards the ground – she was at an angle with his body, joined to him at the cock –

A white ooze – the masked man's cum – appeared around the edges of her pussy and flew away into the infinite air above them. The masked man's feet hit the ground – it didn't seem to injure him – the shock of the impact flew through their bodies, heightening Becky's peak of pleasure, she gasped and her juices filled her sex, just as the wiggling sperm had.

Becky's eyes brightened. They had come to a stop – equilibrium. Her legs were still bent back towards her head but she was no longer falling. She was perpendicular to the man, who was standing on the ground – she was lifted off the ground, still her back arched, her entire frame being supported by her loins – supported by the strength of the stranger's cock alone. She was alive.

With that exhilarating realization, Becky's pleasure somehow reached new peaks. She gasped and her back arched, her head flung back – and with her body already sunken, the back of her head touched the ground. And the world swam around her...

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Rebecca Dalton woke with a start. She blinked. She was in her own room, in her own (pink) bed. Had it just been a dream? It had seemed so real? The man had seemed so real (although he could fly, and of course, real people couldn't fly), the sex had felt so good... But it had just been a dream then, just a figment of her imagination. She was sweating. Her heart beating a mile a minute, so quick she was surprised she could not hear it rather than feel it.

A sensation coming from her panties distracted her. She felt with her fingers – they were soaked. She had cum in her sleep. The first orgasm she had ever had, and it had happened while she was asleep. She didn't know whether to be disappointed or feel satisfied, thanks to the incredible fuck she had just had in dreamland. Regardless, it felt like she came quite a lot, because her panties and her blankets and her sheets around the bed seemed to be totally soaked.

Quickly getting out of bed, Becky slipped off her gown and panties. Before she looked for new ones, though, she caught a glimpse of her own soaking sex in the mirror across the room. Curiously, as if still suspicious of the nature of the dream, she took two fingers and slowly and carefully inserted them into herself, as her dream partner had done. She immediately encountered resistance. Her hymen was definitely intact.

Pulling her fingers out, she saw their reflection in the mirror – they were dripping. Slowly, she glanced around the room. It was dark and (obviously) there was no one else here. Still, blushingly, she delicately licked her own dew off of her fingers. She contemplated. It tasted sweet, yes, but a bit odd in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was different from the in the dream, but still not unpleasant... kind of good, in a perverse way. Becky guessed it had tasted different because she had never tasted her own juices before – now she knew – knowledge for the future (such as it was). As she delicately, almost instinctively, licked her fingers clean (it wasn't exactly tasty, but it wasn't unpleasant either – strange), she wondered about the dream. Was real sex that good? Juices freely flowed from Becky's now naked sex, dripping onto the carpet below. She hoped it was – but if it wasn't, she'd always have dreamland to give her a real treat.

Miles away, Brian started up straight in his bed. He'd creamed his sheets, surely as he'd creamed Becky's pussy. He didn't know about real Becky, but one thing was sure – dream Becky was a good fuck. As he looked around his room for a new pair of boxers, one thing was sure to him – he'd look forward to enjoying her tomorrow night.

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Author's Notes:

As an interesting note on the side, I had a few concerns about this chapter:
1) Obviously, the vast majority of this chapter is fairly impersonal, but that was the point of the chapter.
2) I have a disturbing tendency to end my female character's names in the “y” sound – ie: Becky, Emily, Lily, Katie. (To use examples from this story and my other running story, “Stalker”).
3) I am not a lucid dreamer myself and hardly ever even remember having dreams, to say nothing of what's in them.
4) I'm not sure I'm portraying dreaming realistically – I'm operating on the assumption that you can feel pleasure but not pain in a dream, if that wasn't obvious.

I am aware of those problems and am working to fix them.

Think I've got other issues that I missed? Just want to praise me on my writing? Then please review. I have no idea how I'm doing if you don't give me any feedback.

Hope you enjoyed reading!
'Till next time.

-Chris