Dreams Ch 03 4

CHAPTER THREE: "STRETCHING"

I

The man's penis was pressing against her, finally pushing in. She felt intense, unbearable but wonderful heat fill her and a deep want to get more of it. The man, much older than her with short dark and slightly greyish hair, had an intense, commanding look. He his arms were wrapped around her back; strong, manly hands. She sensed the instinctive, primal need to have more of him inside her and moved her hips downwards pushing herself onto him and it felt divine.

Then, suddenly, she was on her knees, but with her tummy on the sheets of a bed. The same man, even more domineering, knelt behind her, holding her by the hair and, oddly, the threat of his power excited her, not scared her. She felt his throbbing manhood slide through her wet insides and, like previously, wanted more of his power, more of him. She wanted him in control and her obedient to him. Moaning, she was begging him to never stop.

Another shift. She was looking down her body, all trembling and shaking and he was there, at her centre, kissing, licking, tugging, slipping his tongue inside. Teasing her in what felt like a torture, but excruciatingly titillating torture, one she never wanted to stop. She opened her thighs wider for him, submitting to him and to the exquisite, thrilling sensations.

Then Lily was in her room again, drenched, sweaty, and not quite awake, but in an odd trance. Breathing heavily and whimpering, she found one of her breasts and fondled it, as on an autopilot, teasing her nipple, and finding it hard like a lump. Her hand slipped down her body and her legs seemed to have spread on their own accord without her doing much about it. She found where it felt the best and rubbed it there. "Oh yes, yes, yes—" she purred, relishing in the sensations, finding awkward freedom in them, but unable to stop, feeling the moisture between her legs a drugging, overbearing force. Her young nimble body shook; despite now seeing her surroundings, she was still with the strong older man from the dream, now mouthing to him to keep going, not stop giving her pleasure while rubbing small circles over her clitoris herself.

Then it was all gone and it stopped; she remembered who she was. What she was doing was forbidden, shameful, horrific. It stayed her hand.

She was no longer surprised by these dreams. Still shocked, repulsed by them and disturbed by what they got her to do. With a jerk, she pulled her pants back up and pulled down her night shirt to cover herself. These dreams, of dirty, filthy things, always with the same man, now came to her every night. The more she tried to not think about them and their content, the more they came, and the more distressed she was. She grasped the edge of the bed and looked to the cross on her wall in a futile attempt to bat these thoughts away. Tearful once more, she did wonder if she was a bad girl. Such thoughts were a sin and she wanted them out. But they felt soooo good... and touching herself did, too!

Bad! She punished herself mentally, whimpering in disgust at herself, now pacing the room in circles. Even now, she felt her body, every inch of it, that just a minute ago was aflame... Will she ever get over this? And who was this man, anyhow? The mere thought of the man, powerful, commanding, and her tiny, young body conjured up an instant image of his throbbing large manhood entering her and her gasping in pleasure. The image entered without asking for permission, out of the blue.

"No, no, no! Get out!" she begged, not sure who she was pleading with. "Get dressed, Lily, and forget!" she addressed herself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, putting on normal day clothes would keep the bad thoughts at bay.

She knew, of course, it wouldn't be so. It wasn't the case the day before, so why should it be today? Trying to soldier on, once again, as she had done every morning in the last week, her mind with the filthy and unthinkable, she sighed deeply, her chest trembling uncontrollably. Deep down, she was terrified, feeling as though she was being tested, but over something that was out of her control. Every step of hers felt rotten and her heart was stained and defaced, and she despised herself for it. "Please—" she sobbed, leaning heavily against the wall next to the cross, not daring to look up at it, "just stop—make me good again." Heavily, she slid down the wall, slumping into a crouching position, burying her weeping convulsing face in her hands.

II

He might have been a stud once, but Jack simply no longer had what it took to satisfy her. Their last fucking was alright, but that was about it. He was just doing the usual, but no sauce, like going through some bloody motions or something. How can a man get so ridiculously unimaginative?

Debbie stepped out of the shower. By 8.30am, he would've already got to his school, where he had been working for the past 15 years. Was that what he was, really? - a guy relying on and stuck in a rut? She used to try to talk to him, but no use. He'd just evade the conversation and mumble something, trying to pacify her. In bed, whenever she tried to move things to raunchier, more adventurous things as she craved, he'd just get tense. Once, he actually fucking left the bedroom!

She was a volcano on the rise; wanting to erupt, not given a way to release the magma. Always hot, always needy, always sultry. Raging inside most days for more and the kinkier. She had to admit that Jack was a good man in everything but this -- caring, helpful and even tidy around the house. But when it came to her sexy side, he had deserted her and she was fuming. In fact, she didn't really fucking care how caring or tidy he was any more -- at her age, being a mature woman, she knew what she wanted and he wasn't providing!

She recalled months of her humiliating attempts. Fuck her face? No. Anal? No. Butter churner? No. He would never say anything, just look at her disparagingly or, worse yet, with clear contempt, like she was suggesting something completely out of order. Threesome she didn't even ever mention. Fuck! -- he was supposed to be a man, fucking her brains out! Instead, he acted like some spineless softie unable to satisfy a woman. He was a fucking joke.

Sighing, she slipped her morning robe on and tiptoed out of the bathroom to the hall where she had left her mobile earlier. She opened WhatsApp and texted "Now ok" to Amelie. Jack, the sod that he was, had no clue of course that every Friday, when she didn't work but when he was teaching his first lesson at Macdonald Primary, she and Amelie screwed in his own bedroom in the morning. She took care afterwards to wash the sheets, dry and store them and replace them with a second clean one, looking just like the one Amelie and herself had fucked on. Amelie was good; it helped stave off Debbie's tempestuous desires later.

Amelie, however, as good as she was and as tasty as she was, also had her boundaries too tight. Perhaps Debbie was expecting too much? -- herself being in her mid-forties and Amelie in mid-twenties? Perhaps the kind of things she wanted you begin to want when you're more experienced?

Debbie shook her head. There was a long list of stuff she'd wanted to try for a while. Somebody get her properly tied up. Exhibitionism. Threesome, with two men in particular. Getting properly fuck faced. Cum on her face. And so much more!

Suddenly an idea popped in her head, thinking of Amelie, who had mentioned previously to her something about

Dreams

, some place near Maida Vale, which sounded like an escort agency of some sort, but branding themselves as more upscale. There was 20 minutes before Amelie would arrive.

She went over to her home office and lifted her laptop from her desk. She walked over to the bedroom with it, undoing the cord of her robe and letting it drop to the floor on the way. She was not going to need any clothes after Amelie's arrival.

III

Buckley's Flowers was on the corner of Marban Road and Bravington Road. Lily had been there for a year and by now, although she didn't like to admit to such emotions, hated it. Sure, it was pretty. She loved being surrounded by flowers -- dahlias, magnolias, roses, geraniums... - and the interior was Edwardian, and very stylish. The scents were enchanting. But it was always the same every day -- there is only so much fulfilment she could get from arranging flowers day in day out. Gratefully, she was only here 9am to midday. It was dull, dead boring. Bryony, who managed her and the only other person there, at least during her working hours, was just as dull and uninspiring, only smiling at customers, but never at her. They barely talked and only when they had to.

She needed to get out of this. Of course -- big surprise! -- none of her recent job applications got any responses. Then there was Jill, the appearance of whom outside of the

Dreams

building the previous week could not be unseen. It didn't help at all to remember that it had been Jill who got her the job here in the first place back when they had still talked.

Bryony, if she paid any attention to her young employee, would have -- should have -- noticed that she was in considerable distress. Plagued by the OCD-style images of the same man penetrating her again and again, each time in a different way, and her moaning and submitting to him, she was wiping off sweat off her brow in permanent anguish, frantically trying to repress the unwelcome thoughts and think of something -- anything -- else.

To no avail. The idea of Jill, who had got her the job at Buckley's in the first place, just added to the vicious circle. In the past two days, she had gone to

Dreams

to stand outside of it at the same time as when she had been there before, in the hopes of spotting her sister walking out of those doors again, wanting to—she didn't know what! Catch her? Grab her? Scold her publicly? Follow her? She hadn't and still hasn't thought that far ahead. Does she have the

right

to scold her long-lost sister anyway? -- what about those unclean images in her head? -- isn't that what those depraved, pervert people in that building do?

Perhaps she made the whole thing up? Perhaps it wasn't Jill after all? Some sort of mirage brought on by the scorching heat that day, an invention of her mind, which was clearly quite diseased just now? But no, she definitely

did see her

! She would go there twice more -- tonight and then on Monday. (They probably didn't work there over the weekend.) Then, if she doesn't see Jill, she'll drop the idea. Maybe.

"Go on girl! Don't you daydream there!" Bryony rebuked from behind. Lily had been far off in her thoughts and her hands must've frozen, not arranging the flowers anymore. She snapped out of it.

"I am sorry, Ms Potter. It won't happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't!" She did like to wag her critical crooked finger at her, didn't she?

IV

Stuart opened the door to Room no. 18. Still the same as it'd always been: a classic Best Western-style hotel room: a queen-size bed with two bedside tables with simple lamps on and, most importantly, the two huge two-way mirrors into Room no. 17 on one side and no. 19 on the other, both mirrors taking the entire length of the wall, very large sheets of glass. Nothing much had changed here since he was here last watching Jill, Hollie and Ava. No. 18 was for staff, not clients. After a long day, he did deserve some entertainment and this client should be good. He looked again at the printout from the website application that Hollie had given him downstairs:

Name: Debbie

Sex: Female

Age: 45 years old

Interested in: Another woman for fisting experience. Some toys, too. Stretch my pussy wide and good. Make it rough and hard and don't hold back. I prefer women with large tits. Brunette if possible.

This would be fantastic, a good show after what had been a rather mundane boring day in the office where he just had to help Katie with budget paperwork. He thought he'd stop over here first before going home and fucking Jill there. Room no. 18 was an amazing one: being able to see the action without being seen or suspected of being seen, watching what was promising to be hot lesbian action was like being in his own personal porn cinema, except what was going on in the other room on the side of the looking glass was actually real.

They were already in no. 17 and he pulled up the only armchair in the room towards the mirror to sit in front of it, still fully dressed in his black suit and white shirt. Hollie had picked Ava for this session with Debbie. Ava, in her early 30s, was indeed a brunette of long wavy hair flowing down and past her shoulders onto her back. Her tit size was D and it seemed that Debbie approved of the size, judging by her expression just now. Ava was perfectly tanned all over her body. She was wearing just black lacy knickers and similarly black bra, small in size on purpose so that from the first moments most of her large enticing tits would be visible to Debbie.

Debbie was a hot ash blonde woman -- long hair with an easily visible parting combed straight falling onto her shoulders, even lower than Ava's. Quite tall and also tanned, although to a slightly lighter shade than Ava. She was also wearing black knickers and bra, but with pink straps on her bra and matching pink hem on her knickers. Her tits were slightly larger, perhaps DD or E. Stuart licked his lips in anticipation.

They were sizing each other up for a few seconds before starting to kiss kneeling on a large white metallic bed with similarly white poster-like structure rising above them -- made of long thin interconnected metal rods. The mattress just had a sheet and a pair of white pillows on it at one side.

Ava sucked hard on Debbie's tongue without much ado as Stuart shifted in his chair and undid his fly, knowing his cock would begin rising soon. Ava followed the initial fervent kisses by grasping Debbie's sizeable tits with her hands, touching them through the bra material. Given time, she might have done more, but Debbie was faster, hankering after getting Ava's tits into the open. Her eyes seeming like pools of desire, she pulled Ava's black bra down to below her tits, which seemed to bulge larger-than-life out of her body audaciously. Ava let her hands rest and looked down as Debbie took the first licks of her nipples, squeezing her tits between her stretched-out fingers, soon sucking hungrily. Ava purred with delight, with the quality of an expert knowing what to expect yet continuing to enjoy it.

Debbie was next and Ava's lips and stuck-out tongue were soon inside of her cleavage and licking her two orbs, letting her bra stay on for a few seconds before eventually pushing it down her body, unclasping it and letting it fall to the mattress. On his side of the glass, Stuart practically whistled; Debbie had what he could describe as teats, heavy and crammed with round areolas with nipples of similar tanned shade. Ava was already all over them -- sucking hard and letting go with a smack of her lips a few times before rising to kiss Debbie passionately, two pairs of tits rubbing against each other.

Stuart knew that this would be all largely one-sided: Ava's task was to service Debbie here, rather than get heaps of pleasure herself, so he was pleasantly surprised, seeing Debbie push the other girl onto her knees to face away from her towards the bed's headboard which she was now holding on to, exposing her young firm ass to the blonde's clearly hungry gaze. Her knickers were pulled off her quickly and Debbie licked her lips, moaning rather theatrically, sitting behind her, looking directly at Ava's pussy. Expertly, Debbie pressed her palms against her ass cheeks, spreading her pussy lips wider, massaging her butt while Ava enjoyed jiggling it for her. Eventually, Debbie leaned in and ran her tongue several times up and down her crack, causing Ava's back to arch up alluringly.

They both knew, though, and so did Stuart, that Debbie came here for her pleasure -- that's what she was paying for. Stuart lifted his hips and pushed his trousers and boxers down his thighs, getting the dick out, not touching it yet, letting it keep growing for now. Debbie was now lying on her back, playing already with her large tits spilling over to the sides, and Ava knelt next to her, tugging on her knickers, using the material to rub her moistening pussy and slapping her ass cheeks a few times, to which Debbie grunted, slipping the tip of her tongue past her teeth.

Then, lifting Debbie's legs up, Ava, pulled the knickers off her, exposing her bald, delicious pussy to her eyes -- and to Stuart's eyes. Debbie would've had no idea of this, of course, though Ava certainly did, that the bed was positioned close enough to his window so that onlookers got as up-close a view as was possible. It was impossible for him to hold off grabbing his cock any longer, seeing Debbie's sultry eyes staring down her body through her half-open legs, which she held in place by holding them at their calves; Ava gathered spit in her mouth and let out a tiny rivulet drip down from her lips above onto Debbie's bald pussy. She did this twice, each time using the spit as lube, using her three middle fingers to rub around her entire vulva. It was fucking hot, particularly with Debbie's now gaping gasping mouth watching this.

Ava kissed her folds a few times before slipping into her two of her index fingers, using her other fingers and her palms to spread her skin around tighter. The two index fingers pushed Debbie's fuck canal open, her pink fleshy insides in clear view, even to Stuart on the other side of the glass. Debbie now wheezed; her thighs, running up her body pressed against her ample tits, squishing them slightly, making for an even greater spectacle. Next, the index fingers were joined by two middle fingers, now four fingers spreading her open, two on each side. Instinctively, Stuart rubbed his dick hard as Ava let another drip of spit onto and into Debbie's moist glistening pussy, in a rigorous act demanding obedience, much like a doctor performing an operation on a patient. The pink flesh led to a dark black cavity; a purely primal sight as far as Stuart was concerned. Ava's fingers now spread the new spit around Debbie's clit before her two index fingers confidently spread her open once more, examining the lightless hollow in front of her with calm satisfaction.

Debbie, continuing to wheeze and gasp, looked already like a true bitch, observing the other slut's face over her twat and reacting to her fingers stretching her, admiring the results of her own work. Debbie grinned widely, obviously satisfied already with what she was getting and moaned out loud when Ava stuck her tongue out to flick it against her clit. When the tongue was joined by two fingers of Ava's one hand, Debbie just had to toss her head back and groan. The finger fuck was not gentle; it was fast, hard and demanding obedience and was now matched by the firmer, more rapid tongue action. Grabbing her big tits, Debbie rose to half-sitting position now, gaping, not caring she was drooling down her own chin, overwhelmed by Ava now using all of her fingers to rub her crack hard in swift circular motion before slipping the two fingers deep right up to her knuckles into her.

"Fuck!" Stuart wheezed, watching this fast-paced hard action, beginning to jerk himself up faster. Ava removed her fingers all covered in Debbie's cum and fed them immediately into Debbie's mouth where they were seized on and sucked ravenously.

Ava slipped off the bed and pulled out a small plastic box from underneath, taking out an object from it. Metallic, it looked like some kind of kitchen utensil. About 10cm long or so, it had two arms attached to an axis in the middle. These were not pliers (!) but were working on the same principle: squeeze the two arms at the bottom and the top parts will move wider apart or closer together. At the top of each arm, thin 5cm metallic oval-shaped oblong pipes were attached to both of the arms, protruding forwards at the right angle to the rest of the structure. There was also a longish screw attached to one of the arms.