What Dreams May Come 4

She was a cat, sleeping on the most luxurious pillow ever. It was early to be asleep, she thought. But maybe the wine had something to do with that.

That thought spun in her drowsy mind for a moment, distracting her from the pure peace of restful sleep. Something wasn't quite right. "Where did I get wine?" she finally asked herself. Nobody serves wine to cats. And most cats would turn up their cute little noses at the smell of it.

"Where am I?" she reluctantly asked aloud. There was someone else in the room. Her keen senses were razor sharp and she knew absolutely that she was not alone.

"In my living room," said a deep, masculine voice.

"Okay," Lucy said. She sighed in contentment, and snuggled up against the man's t-shirt. She started relaxing back into sleep, but another nagging thought put the brakes on her doze. "Why am I in your house?"

"We had a good month. Twelve new accounts. I invited everyone over to my house to celebrate. You fell asleep."

"Gotcha. Did we have wine?"

"Pizza and wine. Yes."

"Did I drink too much?"

"You had two glasses," her boss said.

"I'm a hundred and ten pounds. That was too much." The mysteries were solved. Lucy could relax. She took a deep, cathartic breath and went back to sleep.

"All right," Lucy's father told her. "Driving a standard isn't that difficult. Step on the clutch and turn the key to start the engine."

Lucy obeyed, thrilled to finally learn this skill. She'd wanted to do this for all her adult life. At last, she had her hands on the stick.

"Good," her father praised her. "Now you're going to press on the clutch, move the stick to the left, and then quickly, but gradually press the gas and let up on the clutch."

Biting her lip, Lucy did as she was told. The car rolled backward out of the driveway, then straightened out and moved forward down the street.

"Excellent!" her father praised. "Now move the stick back and forth."

The car's tan upholstery became zebra-striped and the exterior color turned purple. Lucy loved purple. It was delightful.

She moved the gearshift around in a counter-clockwise circle. The car lifted in the air and flew over some nearby trees. "Ouch!" her father yelled. "Stop that."

Lucy crawled out of the dream and took stock. Reluctant to fully wake up, she kept her eyes closed. "Boss? Am I sitting in your lap?"

"Yes," came his growl.

"Thought so. Senses of a cat, you know. How did I get here?"

"Memory of an elephant, I see. While we were waiting for the pizza, you were looking at my family photos. You especially liked the one of my daughter in my lap. Soon after you fell asleep, you crawled into my lap. You said you were cold and that I should pretend you were my daughter."

Mystery solved. Except... "Boss, does your daughter hold your dick when she sits in your lap?"

"Absolutely not."

"Am I holding your dick?"

"You are. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop squeezing and yanking."

"Okay, Boss. You got it." Lucy promised. "But can I keep holding it? I need something to grip when I sleep. I usually have my hairbrush. This is better."

"Just stop yanking on it."

"Okay. Promise." Lucy got a better grip on him, wrapping him in the fabric of his pants until he was almost in a cloth condom.

"Boss, did you know your dick is hard?" she asked. She wasn't a hundred percent on the functioning of that organ. She was afraid she might have caused an injury by holding too firmly.

"I am aware, yes. That's what happens when a pretty girl fondles it."

Oh. That was kind of flattering. She was responsible for his condition, she supposed, but it wasn't an injury. He was turned on. Well, Lucy was okay with that. But fair was fair...

"Boss?"

"Yes, Lucy?"

"If you want to fondle me while I'm sleeping, I'm okay with that." Guys liked fondling girls, she knew.

"Way ahead of you darling," her boss said.

"Really?"

"My arm is all the way around you. My hand is in your shirt."

"Oh. Am I wearing a bra?"

"You took it off at work. You said the clasp broke."

"Right." She remembered now. And she could feel his fingers on her nipple. "I threw it away. Is your other hand on my ass?"

"It is."

"Told you. Catlike senses. I'm not wearing panties either, am I?"

"Nope. My hand is right up your skirt. Skin to skin."

"Yeah. Laundry day. Old bra, no panties, formal skirt. Are you going to finger me?" she asked. "It's okay, just try not to wake me up."

"No. Wish I could but I can't. My hand is holding you steady. If I move it, you'll fall on the floor."

"Better not, then," Lucy yawned, nodding to acknowledge the wisdom of that choice. "Maybe later."

But for now, Darth Vader was facing her. "You will never be a Jedi, my daughter.."

"I am already a Jedi. You cannot stop me, evil father."

"A Jedi must have a lightsaber. Girls don't have lightsabers."

But he was wrong. Lucy already had a very fine lightsaber. It was thick and hot and pulsing in her hand. She waved it at his face, letting her know that his destiny had arrived.

"Damnit, Lucy!" he yelled, "I told you to stop that."

He used the Force to pry her fingers away from her weapon. But she would never join the Dark Side. She ran to the bridge and looked down into the depths of the Death Star machinery.

"You've failed, Father," she snarled at that scary black mask. Lucy threw herself into the abyss.

Superman caught her! He took her up, up and away, into the clouds. He carried her like a baby, making her feel safe and relaxed in his strong arms.

"Ha! Did you see his face?" she asked.

"Did you?" Superman asked.

"No. Of course not. But you've got that X-ray vision. You could see through that mask. Was he surprised? Was he angry and humiliated? Was he all gross and burned under there?"

"Just relax," he said, laying her gently down on a cloud. It was soft, but supportive, like floating on a fog.

"Cold!" she gasped, struggling to stay asleep.

"You'll warm up soon enough once you're under the blanket."

"Don't tie me up," Lucy insisted. "I said you could do stuff to me, you pervert. This isn't necessary."

"Stop fighting me. I'm just taking your shirt off so you'll be more comfortable."

Lucy stopped thrashing and let him pull her arms out of the sleeves and drag the shirt up and over her head. He could see her tits, she realized. He'd better appreciate that privilege.

"Take my skirt off, too," she said. Might as well give him the whole show.

"Way ahead of you. Your skirt is still in my living room. Actually, you took it off yourself."

Oh. Well, good then. She liked sleeping nude. "Still cold," she complained as the blanket was drawn up over her shoulders. "Get in here with me."

Some part of her recognized that she'd be thoroughly embarrassed by her behavior come morning. But for now, she needed him to hold her in the bed.

"You sure about that?" he asked.

"Yes." Maybe.

"If I get in bed with you, I may not be able to resist."

Resist what? Sex? Lucy decided she was okay with that. He could sex her if he needed to. "You don't have to resist. Do what you have to. Don't wake me up if you can help it."

She felt his nude body cuddle up against her. Warm and comfortable, she turned to face him and reached between them to grab his naked cock. "I can still hold this, right?"

"Don't yank."

Count Rodrigo opened the door to his legendary seduction suite. He gallantly gestured for Lucy to enter ahead of him. "Welcome, my dear. You will be much enjoyed tonight."

She stood nervously before him. She had dressed to impress, in her finest gown. The Count was a legendary connoisseur of women and now that it was her turn in his bed, she hoped to be memorable.

Alessandra had been rated as "Exquisite." He'd kept Tonia for three days and nights. But the incredibly beautiful Lenoir triplets had earned barely a shrug from the Master. "Good enough," he'd told their embarrassed mother. Lucy was hoping to make a better impression.

To Lucy's horror, she found a loose thread on the bodice of her dress. It was deeply cut, to show off her cleavage. If the Count did not notice the damaged, low-quality cloth, then Lucy's well-displayed breasts had failed to entice his eyes. Either way, he would likely be disappointed in her.

Amusement came into his dark grey eyes. He had read every thought as it played over her expression, Lucy realized. She blushed to realize that she could keep no secrets from this man. The female held little mystery to such an expert.

"Allow me," he said, though he didn't wait for permission. Count Rodrigo reached out and took hold of the stray thread. His knuckles brushed the bare swell of her breast as he got a good grip.

He yanked it hard, and with such practiced skill, her entire dress started to unravel. The Count watched in appreciation as her fine gown was reduced to nothing but loose thread, wrapped around her but hiding nothing. The ruined garment fell to the floor, leaving her naked before him.

Lucy was embarrassed, but thrilled. This would bode well for her reputation. Elizabeth had been returned to her parents naked and exhausted. Simone's clothes had not been returned to her when she left the Count. Both girls were said to have tempted Rodrigo to near-violence. He had not been capable of a slow seduction and masterful unwrapping. He was said to have lost all control and shredded their clothes in his eagerness to mount them. Elizabeth and Simone had been in such high, high demand as brides after that, they'd each been able to select multiple husbands.

And now, Lucy's gown was destroyed. She would be given back to her brother wearing nothing. "Thank you," she whispered to the Count.

"Do you know what you are, Lucy?" he asked, shrugging off her thanks. Her marriage prospects didn't interest him. Her family's opinion of her did not have his attention.

"No," she answered quietly, lifting her chin as his gaze wandered over her body.

"In this room," he told her, "I have bedded a thousand beauties. Do you know what you are?"

Lucy quietly breathed out a second "No," unable to give it voice.

The Count gestured to the bed. "In these blankets, I have entered virgins and whores. Princesses and slaves. Do you know what you are?"

Scared, but excited, Lucy could only shake her head.

"Ah, Lucy, how can you doubt it?" The Count picked her up, tossed her gently onto the bed, and smiled in anticipation. "You are Next."

He removed his clothes in a casual manner, as if he were only readying himself for sleep and there wasn't a naked woman waiting for him in his bed. He hung up certain garments and tossed others into a basket to be cleaned by his staff.

Lucy was impressed by the sight of his penis. Some distant part of herself thought that maybe she'd never seen one before. In her shifting layers of consciousness, Lucy had decided that Lucy was a virgin.

It was such a fascinating appendage, she thought. Boys are lucky to have such a thing. It was like a scepter or a magic wand, a symbol of male power. Lucy wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with it, but she knew a man used that thing to conquer a woman.

She didn't know what her part was, but Lucy was ready to surrender to him. She scooted backward on the bed to give Rodrigo room to join her. It was an enormous bed, but Lucy was intimidated by the Count, who seemed almost a giant to her. She moved all the way back to the enormous headboard and sat against it, with her arms around her knees.

The Count smiled at her fear. "Worry not, my dear. You will be thoroughly satisfied by what we do together."

She gave him a weak grin, unable to suppress a shudder as he climbed up on the bed and stalked her on hands and knees. He was the mighty lion and she was the deer. He took hold of her ankles and pulled her gently toward him. She slid down the backboard, over the pillows, until her ass was in the center of the bed.

The Count put his fingers on her knees and pulled them gently apart. She gave him no resistance, as curious as she was fearful. She was embarrassed to be so very naked in front of him. The Count's sisters had carefully groomed her for this night, shaving off every hair that usually guarded her loins. The Count's wife and mother had bathed her thoroughly and rubbed perfumed oil into the soft skin of that feminine opening. Now her sex was on bold display for him and the Count feasted his eyes.

She thought about this hidden entrance to her body and looked again at his hard, jutting cock. A thought occurred to her about what he might be about to do to her.

But she decided she was wrong when he dipped his head, like a lion feasting on its prey, and took a taste of her. But the Count wasn't biting her. He licked. From the bottom of her pussy to the hood of her clit, his tongue stroked her.

Lucy gasped with the delight of it. Even outside the dream, she had never experienced this. And within the dream, the Count explored her sex with his agile tongue, doing things the innocent virgin Lucy had never dreamed of.

She had looked at that tight seam between her legs and wondered what lay behind it, but she had never had the courage to check. But now, could it be? The Count had opened her up with his tongue and was licking inside her. She had never known such a thing was even possible. And was that his finger, pushing even deeper than the tongue?

It was feeling exquisite, the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. But she didn't want to come yet. Not like this. Virgin Lucy had just figured out what the Count was going to do with that hard, stiff cock. His fingers and tongue had shown her an unexplored space inside her body. Rodrigo's jutting male anatomy was between his legs, precisely where her own female anatomy had this hungry, greedy opening. Lucy wanted him to fill her with himself, but she was afraid that if she came too soon, from the actions of his clever tongue, it might wake her up and she'd be denied.

"Stop," she whispered. "I need you inside me."

The Count raised his head, his face wet with her moisture, a smug smile on his lips. "Of course you do," he said.

He put his face back on her pussy, causing her to jump with the sensation of it. But he wasn't resuming his feast. He kissed his way up her body, sliding his tongue back and forth over her abdomen, dipping into her navel, tickling her ribs.

His lips climbed the slope of her breast, reaching the rosy tip and claiming her nipple. He bit her gently. And licked her. And suckled on her. Its twin was aching for attention and his fingers provided, squeezing and teasing, stroking the supple flesh and rubbing the sensitive nub.

She was starting to fear orgasm again when he moved on. She felt his cock slide up onto her sex, hard and pulsing. The experienced Count moved his hips carefully, finding Lucy's entrance with the head of his cock, no hands needed.

"Go slow," she started to tell him. She seemed to remember the first time hurt. But he smothered her words with a kiss, pushing his tongue between her lips, forcing her to taste her own sex.

She was shocked at that, and confused at how arousing it was, but he gave her no time to think about it. He pushed hard and embedded himself deep in her body. "Oh, God, yes!" she said into his mouth.

This was fucking, she realized. This was what the Count had done to his thousand beauties, his Princesses and whores. This was what his wife and family had prepared her for. His cock was plunging in and out of her, filling her newly-discovered empty space and then leaving her bereft of his presence.

And she knew exactly why those beauties had come to this bed. This pleasure was indescribable. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. A man's penis inside her body, filling the emptiness she hadn't even known existed. It was a pleasure she had never known and would never again get enough of.

Count Rodrigo pounded her welcoming cunt. His heavy weight on top of her, his thick presence within her, were incredible, but there was a strange tension building up inside her. Something was coming. She couldn't recognize it, but she wanted it, whatever it was. She needed it.

And then it was on her. The Count's cock plunged into her once more, then twice, then a third time, and then Lucy exploded. All thought and sensation ended. There was nothing left of her but the massive orgasm rollicking through her.

Count Rodrigo and his gorgeous seduction suite ceased to exist. The dream was wiped out entirely by the wonderful sensations. Slowly and reluctantly, panting with exertion, Lucy climbed back to consciousness only to find that her circumstances hadn't changed much. She was still lying flat on her back with a man on top of her and inside her.

"Boss?" she ventured carefully.

"Mmmm?" came the man's voice between heaving breaths.

"Are you fucking me, Boss?"

"I am. Yes. Or I was. I basically finished."

"OK. Good. That's why I had an orgasm." She was grateful it had been her boss and not the Count. Imagine seducing a girl by boasting of all the girls you'd had before.

"Glad to be of service."

"Am I fired, Boss?" Lucy asked.

"Fired? Why would you be fired? You just got a promotion and a raise for the outstanding job you've done managing the office."

"I kind of molested you by crawling in your lap and fondling your dick. That's probably fireable."

"I believe we molested each other," her boss countered.

"But I started it. If we worked for a big company, you could go to HR and get me fired."

"I'm your boss. In a big company, I'd be the one in trouble for sleeping with an employee. In a little company like ours, we can be more flexible."

"OK, then. I like working for you. Did anybody else see me crawl in your lap?" Lucy asked.

"We were watching a movie when it happened. Pretty much everyone saw."

"Damn. They'll be making fun of me for that. What time did they leave?"

"Jonas had to go get his kid from a babysitter. The rest are still here. We haven't been back here very long."

"Hmmm," Lucy scowled. "So they know I grabbed your dick and they heard me invite you to fondle me?"

"Afraid so."

"I guess I'll have to live with that." Another concern came to her. "Is it too late to ask you not to come inside me?"

"A bit late, yes. Is it a problem?"

Lucy thought about it. "No," she decided. "Just messy. Since I've already destroyed my reputation and it's too late for a condom, maybe you could fuck me again, now that I'm awake?"