Dreams Ch 02 3

Please read the previous chapter before starting this one. This story follows an increasing number of characters; thus, to reduce confusion the reader will find a ‘list of the characters’ at the end of each chapter with approximate ages and how they ‘fit’ into the plot. Enjoy.

The Stuff That Dreams Are Made of – Chapter 2

The three of us were late for work in the morning. We didn’t have sex or make love or whatever you want to call it. We just didn’t want to part each other’s company. Tom drove Mar and me back to my apartment squeezed into the passenger seat of the Porsche; driving was much faster than public transportation. He waited while Mar and I did quick makeovers for work. Marcella borrowed one of my skirts, except on her it became a ‘maxi’ skirt. One of my ‘brand’ blouses became an off-the-shoulder ‘flash dance’ kind of look for her.

As we went in the door of our building, we each waited for separate elevators before heading up to our company’s offices. I went last, slipping into my cubicle with my tardiness apparently unnoticed.

Before I started work, I took a big sigh and thought of how much pleasure I’d received over the weekend and how much pleasure I hoped I’d given. If there was a measure of perfection, the weekend had achieved it beyond my wildest dream.

I connected with Mar for lunch, and then Tom, Peter, and Dave joined us. Tom, Mar, and I tried to act nonchalant. After a few minutes of awkwardness the whole table launched into animated conversation, some of it about the play we’d been to on Saturday night – a night that even though it had been magical now seemed so far in the past.

I didn’t see Mar or Tom that week except at work. I slipped into private corners of the building with both of them for kisses and reminders of how happy we each were with the weekend.

Mar had been concerned about horning in on ‘my man.’ I assured her that there was no ownership, reinforcing Tom’s own philosophy about exclusivity to her. Perhaps the feelings she understood the most was that I loved her and wanted to bring her pleasure. If Tom was part of that pleasure, so much the better.

I had no lurid sex dream in the nights at the start of the week. I missed them, but then I had my real memories about Tom, Mar, and I to think and dream about.

The ‘dreamscape’ changed Thursday night, however, especially for Marcella. She was seated in my cubicle when I got to work on Friday. She was nervous and giddy in the same instant.

“Ariel, I’ve got to talk to you right now!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall to a vacant conference room. She shut the door and then pushed me down into a chair.

She began, “I had a dream last night – a sex dream. I can remember it all, including who was there. Oh, Ariel, I came – I orgasmed – it was so nice. This morning I was covered in … well, sexual juices from men and women – or maybe just me.”

I’d dreamed too, but I didn’t want to take her thunder away from her. I asked, “Who was there? What happened?” In the back of my mind I already knew the answer to my question; I’d been there too. The details of the dream came back to me.

Marcella blushed a bright scarlet hue as she struggled to get hold of herself. She went on slowly, “Well, Tom and you were there, and so was Peter Winslow and Dave Wescott from Purchasing – our lunch buddies, and Beth Cariola from supply chain management.”

“And what happened in your dream? What’d we do?” In my mind I thought of the six-person orgy I’d dreamed about. Then I realized she was describing the same dream. I just hadn’t awoken with any physical evidence or deep memory like she had? I did vaguely remember a middle of the night climax that brought a smile to my lips.

Mar said excitedly, “Well, the only way I can put it is that everybody fucked everybody else at least once during the time I was aware. Oh, God, Ariel, it was so sexy and so wonderful. I didn’t want it to end, but I guess I fell back to some deeper level of sleep.”

I paused and offered, “Well, in my book you’re normal. I shared part of that dream with you, but I don’t fully recall. Just as you described who was there, it seemed familiar – like déjà vu.”

Mar speculated, “Do you suppose anybody else had the same dream?”

“You could ask them?”

She laughed and said, “Oh, yea, right! Like I’ll walk up to Peter or Dave and say, ‘Hey did you dream of fucking me last night at our orgy?’”

“You could safely ask Tom,” I ventured. “He wouldn’t laugh, nor would he spread it around.”

Mar looked contemplative at that idea. After a few more words we headed off to our separate desks.

At lunch, I watched the subtle way Marcella waylaid Tom; she herded him the long way to our table while having a private conversation with him.

As the two of them sat down, Tom locked eyes with me. He spoke to me quietly so the others couldn’t hear: “I had the same dream at Mar.” There was no editorial comment or further explanation.

Peter came and sat next to me and across the table from Mar. Normally a jovial and talkative member of our growing lunch circle, he seemed unusually quiet this noon – almost embarrassed. He also seemed to study Marcella, Tom, and me, and then, after Dave joined us, him too.

I studied the studier. I became certain Peter had a complementary dream, and as the lunch conversation zigged and zagged, I realized that Dave probably had too. He too was quiet and overly observant of Mar and me.

I ran into Beth Cariola in the middle of the afternoon. Although the meeting at first seemed random, I realized she had come looking for me. She flashed me a huge smile of recognition, and I returned the favor.

“Hi, Ariel. I just don’t see enough of you around here these days. I’d love to get together with you sometime and catch up.”

“Beth, I feel the same way. Any chance you’d want to stop for a glass of wine after work – you know, kick off the weekend the right way? Marcella is coming too.” I got a knowing glance from Beth. She nodded and we agreed to meet in a couple of hours. When I got back to my desk, I called Mar and shared my speculations about the dreamers.

I did my work automatically in the ensuring time, my mind really focused on recalling the dream and what it was like to engage in a six-person orgy. I liked making love with Tom, and I certainly wasn’t a virgin although I didn’t think of myself as sexually experienced. I also liked my time with Marcella. I wanted more of all of the above.

Having a few more sex partners would be … well, exciting, but a little scary. But then, I felt a wash of romantic love surge through me. It wasn’t just sex, it was love – it was a way to express love in the most meaningful manner possible. I looked at a little sign I had in the middle of the clutter on my cubicle wall: ‘Be bold. FEAR stands for Feeling Excited And Ready.’ I decided I could really be excited and ready for an orgy, at least with the players that Mar, Tom, and I had dreamed about. I loved them all – unconditionally. I’d seen them, warts and all and still loved them. We were all evenly matched, knew each other well, and were all caring and nice people.

Beth appeared glad I’d invited Mar to join us. The three of us trooped down the street joyous for a Friday evening and an open weekend. After pleasantries at the wine bar, Beth leaned across the table to Mar and me. She said, “I had a really unusual dream about some of us from work last night. It was just important to me that I see you two and regain some perspective on reality.”

Mar, ever the one to turn a crack into a chasm, said, “Oh, you mean the dream about the six-person orgy?”

Beth’s mouth fell open, and she started sputtering: “How’d you know? I haven’t told anyone. I mean … err … I didn’t think … uhghunbg.”

I stepped into the fray, “Beth, something strange has happened – is happening – to a lot of us. I think I may be the first one to experience it, but several others at work are having it too – including Mar.” I gestured to my cohort.

Beth looked interested. I went on, “We share dreams – usually sexual dreams although I’ve had some very loving, almost spiritual dreams, as well. Moreover, the dreams often leave some physical evidence behind or take us on a physical journey of some kind – a body experience.”

Beth whispered, “Like having orgasms – and fluids?”

I smiled and said, “Yes, exactly like having orgasms, and also being covered in cum or being fucked, or squirting girl juice everywhere. All these things.”

Beth nodded and whispered again, “I had all that happen. You and I … we … we even … and Mar too.” She turned to Marcella. “We all made … love … while the men there just watched us. It just seemed so right and … and loving.”

Mar said, “You mean Tom, Dave, and Peter?”

Beth nodded.

I asked, “Did you like the experience?”

“Oh, Ariel. I’ve asked myself that all day, and every time I focus on the question I get wet. I didn’t want to leave my cubicle in case I was too odoriferous. Of course I liked the experience. I love all those guys. It was so nice. I felt so special and close to them afterwards – in my dreams, that is.”

She paused and then added, “I guess I’ve felt close to them all along. But after we all made love, our union … our relationships just felt so dear.”

I told her of my ruminations that afternoon as I thought of the experience, more from Mar’s telling than my memory. Mar confirmed similar thinking.

At Mar’s urgings I told Beth the progression of my dreams with Dreamlover. I carefully omitted the assignation I’d had with Marcella in the interest of preserving her reputation – and mine. Mar, however, jumped in and told the story of both my dream and the weekend together it had precipitated. Beth asked more questions and in the end admitted she wished she’d been party to our Sapphic encounter. Of course, she emphasized that she was very ‘guy oriented,’ just that being with a woman or women was a really nice idea she’d like to try for real sometime. She remembered the action from the previous night’s dream and had liked the whole scenario.

On that note, we grabbed some salads for dinner, and then the three of us went to my apartment and managed to produce a very satisfying lesbian experience for each other. Beth and Mar slept over – the three of us naked in my large bed, but not before we’d elicited a stream of screaming orgasms from each of us, covered ourselves in each other’s juices, and swallowed so much girl juice we doubted we’d need to eat again. Each of us glowed with love and lust from the experience.

Tom called me about nine o’clock on Saturday morning. He’d apparently gone out with the guys the night before for beers – specifically Peter and Dave. Somehow they’d confessed their version of the dream, and expressed a desire to see it happen for real. The feelings weren’t just lust; Tom said he felt each of the men had a real connection with each of us women. If I hadn’t known Peter and Dave so well, I might have challenged that statement, but I felt the same way about them.

“And, so, what’s next?” I asked.

Tom said, “We were wondering if you’d like to come to an impromptu party at my place tonight. Informal. Dinner. Guys cook. See where things go. Peter and Dave are going to call Mar and Beth this morning.”

“Why Mr. Ransom, are you trying to get into my pants?” I jested with him in a very fake southern drawl.

Tom laughed and said in fake John Wayne drawl, “Well, Miss Ariel, the thought did cross my mind … all week in fact. I’ve missed you. I love you.”

We both laughed, agreed on a time and rang off. Mar and Beth sat in their nudity and looked at me. I reached down and stroked my slit, bringing my nectar to Beth’s lips since she was closest to me. She tongued my fingers. “It’s on,” I said. “Expect calls very soon.”

The three of us formed a circle and started serious efforts at pleasuring the person on our right while the person on our left used fingers, mouth, and tongue to elicit the last orgasm of the morning. Half an hour later the three of us lay panting in my bed, our heads resting next to the pussy they had just pleasured. God, sex was great.

By eleven that morning both Beth and Mar had gotten cell phone calls and invitations to the party. Neither Peter nor Dave ever mentioned a dream, only a desire to go to Tom’s dinner with them and ‘to get to know them better.’ We laughed about that sobriquet for the coming orgy.

The three of us sat around that morning talking about proper etiquette at an orgy, including how to get things started, how to make the guys all feel included and loved, and how to come out of experience feeling wonderful about ourselves. It turned out to be time well spent.

*

The dinner was a masterful creation by the three guys: Tom, Dave, and Peter. Peter did an appetizer with escargot in mushroom caps, and a Caesar salad made from scratch. Tom did a chicken stuffed with artichokes and spinach in a light wine and cheese sauce as the entrée. Dave produced poached pears and cappuccino for each of us.

Beth, Marcella, and I teased the boys about the great dinner, but with an air of awe and thanks for the gourmet meal to go with it. Every interaction with the guys broke another stereotype about what bachelor men were capable of. These guys were keepers.

I had whispered to Tom that after dinner liqueurs were wanted, so as our coffees were finished, Tom brought a prepared tray to the table with Drambuie and Grand Marnier on it along with six small cut-glass cordial glasses. We’d dimmed the lights in the living room so we could look out at the view of the city without too many reflections.

Tom moved to serve the cordials, however, I stopped him. “We’ll take over serving these,” I told him. He grinned.

“Dave, what’s your preference?” He told me he wanted Drambuie. I filled one of the glasses about three-quarters full and lifted it from the tray. He reached for it, but I shook my head ‘no’ to him. He looked puzzled.

I moved in front of Dave as the others watched. “Dave, I’ve learned a really nice way to serve liqueurs and I need your help and cooperation. Please close your eyes. I promise I’m not going to hurt you or spill it on you.” He looked suspicious, yet his eyes closed and he waited next to me on the sofa. I felt the trust of long and deep friendship.

I sipped the rich syrup, and then moved next to Dave. I set the glass down on the coffee table and took his head gently in my two hands to steer him. I brought my lips to his, rubbing my lips against his for a couple of seconds, and then entering into a soul kiss. As the kiss matured, I thrust my tongue between our lips, finding his, and then jetted the small sip of Drambuie into his mouth. I didn’t break contact, but I did hear him moan and move into a much more significant kiss with me.

We came up for air after about thirty seconds. We smiled at each other. Dave said, “That was … was magnificent. I’ll never drink a liqueur again without thinking of you and this moment.”

I turned to the table just in time to see Tom administering the same treatment to Beth, and Mar with her tongue deep into Peter’s mouth. When the liquid kisses had finished, everyone sat and looked at everyone else.

Peter looked at Marcella and said, “Wow! What a memorable event.”

Beth looked very pleased with her initiation into the new technique. Tom gave me a wink.

I took another sip from my Drambuie glass and moved to Peter. He looked surprised at the shift, but willingly entered into the liquid kiss with me. Knowing what was coming only heightened the experience for us. Our tongues dueled with each other as we shared the rich liqueur made mostly from honey and scotch. That kiss turned into another and another.

Beside me Beth administered similar treatment to Dave, and on the love seat Mar and Tom were similarly engaged. At my suggestion, we rotated again. Tom and I repeated the process he’d taught me a week earlier, while Mar and Dave went at it, and Beth and Peter raised their libidos. We rotated again, and I went back to Dave.

By this time, Dave had a significant lump in his pants, and after a quick visual check I could tell Peter and Tom did too. As I started to kiss Dave, I allowed my leg to come up over his lap, rubbing significantly against the tent in his pants. My hand followed and found the hardness hidden within; he moaned into our kiss again.

From the corner of my eye I could see Marcella pulling Peter’s cock from his pants. I thought, ‘Game On.’ I slowly unzipped Dave’s pants and intentionally made awkward attempts to feel his penis in the narrow confines. Finally, I also undid the belt and with a nudge or two pulled his slacks and boxers down his legs freeing his rod.

Instead of going down on him immediately, I used my hand to stroke his rod a couple of times. I then took another drink of the Drambuie and moved my full mouth to his cock. Being careful not to spill too much, I slavered over his cock with the liqueur, dripping some of the liqueur down the side only to move and lap it up again. I repeated the game about half a dozen times before he stopped me.

“Ariel, if you don’t stop I’ll cum all over you.”

“Now there’s a delightful thought,” I whispered back to him with a broad smile. “I hope you cum a lot, I could really get into this. We have all weekend you know.”

Dave looked around at the other two couples in the room. Marcella was topless. Tom was carefully removing Beth’s dress, revealing her bra and underwear. I turned to Dave and said, “Take my top off. Up and off.” I held my arms up. He was a fast learner and seconds later I too was topless.

Mar caught my eye and jerked her head towards Tom. I knew what she wanted. I had started on the buttons on Dave’s shirt, but turned after undoing only two of them. I turned to Peter, as Mar rose and went to Tom. She nudged Beth towards Dave. She moved with a smile to Mar; Dave held his arms up to her and welcomed her with a hot kiss.

If the guys hadn’t gotten the idea before about what was going to happen they sure did in those few seconds. Some kind of round robin was going to take place that night.

I helped Peter shed his shirt and pants. Amid kisses he also stripped every last shred of clothing from my body.

I welcomed Peter’s fingers into my pussy. Knowing where this was going, and my excitement over the small orgy, my juices had been flowing overtime all evening. He found a receptive girl. He fingered me over and over, but before he could start anything serious I rose and moved to Tom.

Mar laughed as she broke off from similar activities with Tom. As she moved to Dave, she knelt in front of him and grabbed his rigid cock, lapping up one side and down the other. At one point she turned to me and said, “His cock still tastes like Drambuie. I like that flavor.” She jammed her head back down on the rigid shaft.

Beth had moved to Peter, and in my quick glance showed that she was capable of deep throating a large cock. Peter was making strange gurgling noises involved with pleasure received.

Our six nude bodies shifted into high gear as the lovemaking began for serious. Each of us had had ‘The Dream.’ We shared a common vision of what the night would be like, at least an excerpt of it between when we became conscious of the dream and when we drifted away from it and back into a deeper state of sleep. Of course, like me, parts of it were forgotten only to be recalled through a sense of déjà vu as we changed partners again and again.

Each man had his own style for making love … for fucking. I relished in the differences as the girls made their way around the loose circle we’d formed in Tom’s living room. We drew as much excitement from watching the scene of the others as we did from our own efforts with different partners.