Tentatively, she laid down on the bed. Her mind wandered back to the last thing he said before he logged off.
"I need to ask a favor," he had typed.
One corner of her mouth had turned up as she read that and wondered what. Guys were so predictable. It was probably a request for nude pics or something. Just like all the rest.
"Oh?" She had typed back. "What favor is that?"
"What is your favorite color?"
That had puzzled her just a little. Then she shrugged. Maybe he had a lingerie fetish.
"Blue." She had responded. "What's yours?"
"Oddly... or maybe not so oddly... blue also. Most people would guess black, but it is actually blue."
She couldn't quite stop a chuckle. Of course it was. And she was actually the bastard child of the queen and would be crowned princess any time now. She tried to think of something to type back that wouldn't let him guess she was laughing at him. But, she didn't have to.
"IF you should dream of me again," he typed, "and something should start happening that makes you uncomfortable, just think of the color blue. Ok?"
She blinked and read through it again. Ok, this guy was definitaly odd. And maybe a little spooky. But, as long as he didn't know who she really was, fine.
"Ok." She typed back.
"I know it sounds odd." He typed. "Believe me, I know EXACTLY how strange it sounds. But, if I do appear in your dreams again and anything is making you uncomfortable just think about blue. And thank you."
This wasn't the usual flirting and she wasn't quiet sure what to make of it.
Now, with the computer off and, perhaps more importantly, the lights off, and lying here alone in her bed, those words came back to her.
A small thrill went through her. Not terror, exactly. But the fear of a good horror movie or a roller coaster. That feeling that although you knew you were safe, a small part of you thought you just might not be.
She snorted a laugh, there in the dark. Right. He was actually really going to visit her in her dreams.
She closed her eyes and nestled down into her pillow. She was so tired. She knew she had stayed up too long. And she hadn't slept very well last night, because...
Her eyes flew open wide as she thought about what else he had typed early on in the conversation. She sat bolt upright in the bed. It was difficult to breath.
"Did you have any strange dreams last night?" He had asked.
She had smiled and playfully typed back. "Yes. About you. But, I can't talk about it."
"Oh... umm..." He had typed. "Did it start with someone coming up behind you and gently tracing strong hands down your arms to your hands and folding them across to make you hug yourself as they held you against them and whispered something in your ear?"
She had shivered with anticipation, hoping he would keep going when she typed back, "Yes."
But, he had just typed. "Oh. Should I apologize?"
Now, though, she shivered for a different reason. She hadn't really thought about it at the time, but that was exactly how her dream had started.
Her chest felt tight, like a fist was squeezing her heart. She couldn't catch her breath for a moment.
"That's impossible." She whispered. "No one can do that."
But, still. That had been a little exact for a lucky guess.
Her nipples tightened and she felt her core moisten as she thought about what else she had dreamed.
"All right, 'Mister Acktion'." She whispered as her chest loosened and she drew a deep breath. "So, you can visit me in my dreams, can you? Let's see what happens this time."
She laid her head back upon her pillow and sighed as she relaxed. Gradually, her breathing slowed and grew shallower as she drifted off into the land of dreams. And the arms of a stranger.
*****************************************
Strong hands on her shoulders were the first thing she felt.
"Finally," A deep voice breathed softly across her ear. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."
Those strong hands glided down her arms and until they reached her hands. She felt a powerful chest press against her shoulder blades as he folded her arms under her breasts in a hug. She sighed as he held her.
"I want you so very, very much." His voice whispered and she felt lips touch her neck just below her jaw. "Just remember to think about blue if I move too fast or do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
She gasped and immediately thought of blue. Everything changed in the blink of an eye. She was no longer sitting in front of her computer where she had typed to him, and others, just a short time ago.
Instead, there was a room of blank, blue with nothing in it. His arms weren't around her any more. She turned slowly to see him standing several feet away.
"I'm sorry." He said, gently.
"What is this?" She asked. "Because I have to admit, I'm freaking out just a little bit."
"It's a dream." He said. "Your dream. I'm... well, I just sort of dropped by for a visit."
"No." She shook her head. "That isn't possible."
"Actually, it happens more than you might think." He said with a little smile. "People have dreams they don't quite feel in control of all the time. When that happens, it is usually because someone else's dream touched theirs. But, people don't talk about dreams these days much. So, most people don't realize that they share a dream world almost as much as they share the real world."
What he said almost made sense. Almost.
"So, this is what you really look like?" She asked, more for something to say than because she was quite ready to believe.
"Yes and no." He waggled his hand back and forth. "This is how I see myself. Most people don't see themselves truly. I think I've got a little better grasp on who I am than most. But... well, if I were to see you in the flesh, you would probably look a little different as well. Women are actually worse at this than men. They have a tendency to exaggerate small flaws."
"Oh, really." She smirked a little and folded her arms. "So men are better at this than women."
"Not really," he laughed. "Men tend to imagine themselves a little better than the truth."
"I happened to touch on a dream with a model once. I won't name names, but you have seen her picture in... well, a lot of places.
"But, her dream self is... well, if we had weight in this existence, she would have been about forty pounds heavier than she really is. Her hair was this frizzy mess around her head that rivaled medusa. And she had this huge angry scar next to her eye. A scar that if you ever noticed it in her pictures, actually looks like a fingernail mark and is barely noticable.
"On the other hand, another time I touched on a dream of a rather well known... um... well, 'computer geek'. He looked like he could have posed for Michaelangelo. And if he had really been that well hung, he would have needed a wheelbarrow."
She snorted at the mental image.
"So, we look how we want to look here?"
"Not so much," he shook his head. "We look like we see ourselves. Sometimes it's how we want to look. Other times it's how we are afraid we look. I sort of like the term they used in 'The Matrix' of 'residual self-image'. But, they didn't really get it right. You see, how we see ourselves changes. Then again, they couldn't really make Keanu Reeves look like anything other than Keanu Reeves. No matter how good the make-up artist. He could open beer bottles with his chin here, by the way."
She couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled up out of her. She laughed until her cheeks streamed with tears. When her laughter finally wound down for lack of breath, she was sitting on the floor.
She wiped her eyes and saw him sitting on the floor of this strange room. He might have moved a little closer, but he was still beyond arms reach.
"So, why are you here?" She asked. "Why are we here?"
"Well, that's a little tricky." He smiled. "Do you want the short answer or the long one?"
"Short."
"I'm here to make slow sweet gentle love to you." He said. "I'm here to fuck you. And everything in between. I'm here to explore every single inch of you that I can, inside and out. With my fingers, my tongue, and my hard, throbbing cock."
Her abdomen felt like it was cramping. She could feel moisture pooling out of her. Her nipples were so tight they hurt. And her breasts felt heavy and achy.
"Oh." She said, faintly. "Um. What's the long answer?"
"The long answer is just that. Long." He grinned. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Um, yes. Why would you think I wouldn't?"
"Because your clothes disappeared while you were thinking about me fucking you."
She looked down to find that, indeed, she had not a stitch of clothing to cover her nakedness.
"Eep." Her hands flew to cover herself.
