Naughty Bedtime Stories

IN MY DREAMS

In my dreams she's mine, sexy, funny and incredibly hot. She's creative, anxious to do whatever I want, whatever we want, whenever we want, and we want lots of really wild stuff. Every few nights I create her in my mind just before I fall asleep and in my dreams we do it all. If only....

At first I had to decide who to pattern my dream woman after. I'm not the type to just create someone, or even use a movie star or some glamourous type. No, I wanted my dream lover to be real, or as real as I could make her. Then Maggie moved in next door. I ran into her several times in the elevator and got curious.

My upstairs neighbor, Mrs. McDonald, told me all about her one morning soon after. "Her name's Maggie Bartlett and she been divorced about a year. She's quiet and a bit shy, keeps to herself and minds her own business," Mrs. McDonald said. "She certainly wouldn't think of prying into anyone else's business and I respect that, Cal."

Mrs. McDonald is certainly one to respect privacy, I thought sarcastically. Anyway, Maggie started to invade my fantasies. She's not terribly pretty but there's something I sensed beneath the surface, something a little sad, but hopeful, if you know what I mean. And hungry for the kind of pleasures we could create together. You probably want to know what she looks like, although it's really not important to me. Well, she's about five-two with long straight dark hair and wonderful deep brown eyes. Bottomless eyes that I could drown in. She's got a dimple in her chin and I like to imagine the matching ones on her rear cheeks. She wears very little make-up and I really like that.

Last evening, like so many before, we rode up seven floors in the elevator and neither of us said a word. I kept wanting to say, "How are you this evening?" or "How was your day?" but the words wouldn't come out. We got off the elevator and, almost simultaneously used our respective keys to open our doors. As I turned to say, "Have a nice evening," her door closed so I walked inside my apartment and started building another fantasy around her. It wasn't the first time I'd imagined what it might be like, but this time it went so much further.

In my earliest visions we just got to talking in the elevator and she invited me in for a drink. We just talked. I was witty and clever and we laughed a lot. At the end of the evening, in my dream, we kissed, her lips soft and warm. Her body was pliant, bending against me, making contact chest to knees. Then it was over.

As the weeks went on, each dream got longer, more involved, more experimental, and when I came around I could almost feel her, still against me, my cock hard, pressing into her. I would hold myself, rubbing my throbbing erection, while I recaptured the final moments of my latest vision. The end result was obvious.

Tonight's illusion was the most intricate, the most erotically detailed.

As always, after a trip up in the elevator during which I am charming, engaging in bouts of clever repartee, she invites me into her apartment for a drink. She is dressed in a simple beige, cable-knit sweater and slacks, with flat black shoes. As she closes the door behind me, I look around her living room. Plants hang on long chains suspended from heavy hooks bolted into the ceiling. As I stare at those hooks, I realize that she is gazing at me. "You understand," she whispers. It's not a question. She knows.

"Yes," I say, barely able to breathe. "May we do it all?"

In my dreams there's no need for lengthy explanations. We both know everything as if we can read each other's mind. "Yes," she sighs. "Oh, yes." She walks into the circle of my arms and I kiss her lightly. Somehow kisses aren't relevant right now.

I grab the bottom of her sweater and in one swift motion I pull it off over her head. Her body is hot to my touch, her skin smooth. Her eyes are wide, her pupils dilated in expectation. I stand back and gaze at her tiny lacy bra. She slips her shoes off and reaches for the waistband of her slacks, looking at me for agreement. I nod slightly and she unbuttons her pants and lets them fall, to pool around her tiny bare feet. Her panties match her bra, tiny, with lace covering the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs.

Meekly she extends her wrists. In the dream I know where everything is so I open a drawer in a bookcase pull out two leather and velcro straps. I fasten them to her wrists, then lift plants from two of the chains. Quickly her wrists are fastened to the hooks at the end of the chains, her arms wide, extended slightly toward the ceiling. Her eyes close in ecstasy and I watch her breathing quicken. "Yes," she whispers.

In the drawer I find a two-foot spreader bar and fasten her ankles to the sides, widening her stance. She's open, available to me, yet I know she's not uncomfortable.

I touch the crotch of her panties and she's soaked, aroused and anxious for whatever comes next. In the drawer I find a dildo. It's not a monster, just large enough to fill her pussy and keep her hot, on the edge yet not over it. I draw aside the drenched panties and easily slide the plastic cock into her. Then I replace the panties, using them to hold the dildo in place. Then I stand back and watch her hips writhe, trying to get the ultimate stimulation. "Not yet," I say.

"Please," she moans.

"When we're both ready." I fondle myself through my jeans. "When we're both ready."

She stares hungrily at my hand. "Of course."

I want her nipples, so I pull down the cups of her bra. Her tits are small, but her nubs are tight, erect and reaching for my mouth. I suck one and roll the other between my thumb and forefinger. God, she feels wonderful as she presses herself more tightly against my mouth.

I suck first one then the other, wetting her skin, running my fingernails down her back. She's going crazy, needing what only I can give her now. I reach down and find her erect clit. I stroke it but when I think she's about to come, I stop. "Not yet." This will last a long time so I press hard on her clit until she calms.

In the drawer I find nipple clamps. More stimulation. I cut her bra and it falls to the floor. I fasten the clips to her erect nipples, then tug gently on the chain connecting them. "Oh, God," she moans. "So high...."

"Oh yes," I say, "just a little more." I know my pleasure will be total, but I want that for her too. Only one more step.

I find an anal dildo in the drawer and apply lots of lubricant. Then I pull her panties aside and spread lots of lube on her ass. It takes little pressure for the dildo to slip inside, filling her anus. I tap, first on the vaginal dildo, then on the anal one, causing her to scream and writhe. "Oh, please. No more," she cries, almost incoherent in her pleasure. Finally I'm sure she's ready so I unhook her wrists and lower her to the soft, carpeted floor.

I drag her panties off, remove the dildo from her pussy and ram my engorged cock home. I tug on the nipple chain and move the anal dildo so I can feel it on my cock. It takes only a moment until be both come, screaming.

I came to in my bedroom panting, my cock spurting all over my hand, my body trembling. I could almost see her, touch her, but she wasn't there.

The following evening, as we rode in the elevator together, I finally said, "Hi. My name's Cal."

"Mine's Maggie. We're neighbors."

"I know. My apartment's right next to yours."

She smiled, then started to laugh. "Of course we both know that. I've been noticing you. Would you like to stop in before dinner for a glass of wine or a beer?"

I was flabbergasted. We were talking. I was going to spend time with her. "That would be nice."

She opened her apartment door and ushered me inside. The living room was very sparsely furnished but there were several plants hanging from chains of varied lengths. When she saw me looking at the chains, she blushed. "I really like plants,' she whispered, "and other things."

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