I'd never had much luck in the art of picking up women. That's not to say that it never happened, it was just infrequent at best. I would never call myself an Adonis, but I was attractive enough. I just lacked the confidence. Thus I'd developed a pretty active fantasy life to make up for it. Fortunately, God had seen fit to gift me with an extremely vivid imagination. I could close my eyes and get completely lost in another world, another life or, simply a sexual encounter. Up until now it was a gift that had served me well. Now it was starting to scare me. Okay, I'll be honest, it was scaring the hell out of me.
There were always stories about people who couldn't discern the difference between fantasy and reality and every time I heard them, I found myself wondering how they could let themselves drift so far. I'd never had any mental issues, no psychotic episodes in my sordid past, but I was starting to understand what it must feel like to completely lose your grip. It was freaking me out, but I was doing my best to keep calm. I knew that in actuality, I was lying on my couch, alone, probably with a few globs of cum on my stomach. I'd never lost myself like this, and I wasn't about to start now.
I tried not to think about the fact that, although my sexual imaginings had always been rather vivid, they'd never felt like this. I'd swear on a bible, in a court of law that I'd actually felt Natalie's warm lips caressing my hard-on. I had felt the moisture, and stimulating caress of her tongue. It was difficult to wrap my mind around the situation. Maybe I was going crazy. Out of desperation I pinched my arm. All I got for my trouble was a brief moment of pain.
"I see you're still here." I glanced down. Natalie Portman was still kneeling between my legs, my spunk drying on her face and in her dark tousled hair. The white shine of my baby batter was a rather sharp contrast to the dark blue of her eye shadow. She was wearing a curious smile.
Again my attention was drawn down between her legs. There should have been a pussy down there; hot, wet, and ready for penetration, but instead she'd been gifted with the tool that would do the penetrating. The starlet had a fist wrapped around it and was stroking her erection almost absent mindedly. I was sure that from the base of her well-kept bush to the tip of her purple mushroom head, she had to be at least eight inches, maybe a little more. It was all more than a little off putting. Even in the dark it stood out.
"Not for lack of trying," I whispered with a sigh. There had to be a way out of this.
"This feels great," she smirked, glancing down at her cock. Her rhythm was slow and steady. "Oh," she whispered. "Mm."
I stood up. "I'm so happy for you," I sneered. I walked away, toward the light switch. Maybe I could shock myself into waking up. I flipped the switch and had to squint for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the light. When I turned, Natalie was still there. She was standing now, even in two inch heels the actress was still several inches shorter than me. Her top was still up around her collarbone, leaving her small breasts and pert, bright nipples visible. She had a faraway look in her almond eyes as she continued to jerk her new appendage.
She sighed, and released her grip. Her dick fell forward resting against her left leg. It didn't look like it belonged there, laying against the purple fishnets. "You don't have to be such a dick about it." She slowly walked over, and I tried not to watch as her member swayed gently from side to side, showing no signs of softening. Against her petite frame, it looked even bigger than it probably was.
A moment later, she was standing in front of me. I had to admit that if I didn't look down, I could almost feel the mood returning.
Almost.
"You really can't end this, can you?" She tilted her head quizzically. "You're stuck here."
I rolled my eyes. I really wasn't in the mood to have a philosophical question with a self-admitted figment of my imagination. She gently stroked my cheek with the back of her fingertips. They were warm and soft, and once again I swear I felt them as though they were real. Afraid and unsure, I reached out and took her hand in my own. It had substance and warmth.
"No," I admitted. "I can't seem to wake up."
She took me by the hand and led me back to the couch. I wasn't sure where it came from, but before long, she was smoking another cigarette and offered me one. I nodded. She lit it and handed it over. Sucking on the filter, I felt the arid smoke fill my lungs and relax me a little. It was a fantasy, so I simply flicked the ashes on the floor when I needed to.
"Has this ever happened before?" she asked, leaning in. Somehow she'd managed to situate herself so that she was sitting facing me, one leg on the ground in front of the couch, and the other wrapped inward, covering her erection. If she'd done it to make me more comfortable, I definitely appreciated it. To be honest, I wasn't sure what had kept me from just totally losing it and freaking out already.
"No," I finally answered, taking another drag. "Never." I knew full well that the real Natalie Portman had gone to Harvard to study psychology, and the irony of the situation wasn't lost on me.
"Maybe you haven't cum yet," she offered, trying to be helpful. "Maybe that's why you're still here." She cocked both eyebrows.
"I don't think that's it," I told her. "Something's really wrong here."
