Hi gang,
First let me apologize for taking so long to get out this next chapter. With the holidays and everything, there wasn't a lot of time to sit down at the keyboard. That this got written at all is testament to the respect I have for all of you who took the time to provide such wonderful feedback. You folks are great motivators! Hope you enjoy this chapter and will take the time to vote your approval. Take care and be well... Bobby T.
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You know the way that dreams go. Some you can remember, some you can't. Some seem real and some are totally "out there" and weird. Some seem to be based on real events from your past and some are based on pure fantasy.
I love it when I'm deep into a dream and somehow sense that it's just a dream. You can just go with it because you know it's not real. There have been other times however, when I get the shit scared out of me because I can't tell the nightmare from reality and I wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. On these occasions I become very relieved that my nightmare was just a dream and wasn't real. Worst of all however, are the times that you hate to wake up because the dream was so cool and you wanted it to go on forever.
This was one of those dreams. It may have started off as a bit of a nightmare but thankfully, it turned into something quite different.
In this particular dream, I was still a virgin (which is not much of a stretch, although I was doing quite well of recent, thank you very much). I was sitting in a Laundromat trying to catch up with what seemed about three months worth of dirty laundry. I hate doing laundry! To help pass the time I brought along a magazine and my portable MP3 player so I could listen to some tunes. In this dream I must have moved out of the house and been on my own. (Otherwise, why would I be in a fucking Laundromat?)
So here I was, sitting in a Laundromat working through a huge backlog of dirty laundry. Pretty much everything I owned was in these washing machines. All I had on were my sneakers, a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. No socks and no underwear because everything I owned was in the wash. No big deal.
I sat there listening to some tunes and flipped through my magazine...boring! I munched my way through a bag of M&M's and when finished, went over to the garbage can to put my litter where it belonged. As I went to throw the wrapper into the can, something caught my eye. Looking around for fear of being tagged a dumpster diver, (not that there's anything wrong with that!) I saw that the coast was clear and reached in to see what it was. I pulled out a little booklet that turned out to be a mini-catalog for porn videos. Now we're talking! This won't be as boring as the stupid magazine I was reading! Cool. The cover photo featured a blonde chick that had some well-hung dude's big cock completely down her throat. A little inset photo showed the same chick with about a gallon of cum all over her face.
I quickly tucked the catalog inside my magazine and returned to my seat in front of the gang of washing machines that were doing their thing to my clothes. As I flipped through the booklet, I saw page after page of ads for videos about pretty much everything. Many of them however, seemed to follow roughly the same theme and contained shots of some large breasted women who were sucking cocks or getting a load in the face. I guess the last person who had this booklet had interests similar to mine!
In the context of this dream, the closest I had ever come to having a meaningful relationship involving sex was the night I gave my right hand a name. Yup, Ms. Palmer (my right hand) was the only girlfriend I had ever had sex with and she would probably be the only one until I got out of school and had time to have a life.
I quickly flipped through the booklet and then started back at the beginning to study each page and every ad in great detail. I noticed that most of the guys in the photos had a cock about the same size as mine. I always thought my cock was pretty big but maybe I was wrong because after all, most of the cocks in the photos were almost the same size as mine. I stopped to ponder that thought for a minute and didn't know what to make of it.
All through high school, I could tell from time spent in the school showers that my cock was at least twice as big as most of the other guys and yet here was proof that I was pretty average. Hmmm. I quickly forgot about that and went back to studying the photos. I seemed to get stuck on one particular page that had a photograph of a girl with absolutely huge tits bending over to suck a guy off who sat in a chair. I was absolutely awe struck by the sight of her huge, low hanging breasts. They hung very far away from her body and I sat there wondering what they would feel like. They looked liked they weighed a ton. I'll bet they are nice and soft and that the breast flesh would roll through my fingers. Unfortunately, I had never felt a set of tits before and I was captivated by the thought of feeling a set like these. As I tried to carry on and look at the other pictures, I kept getting drawn back to this one particular photo. I was in awe of this chick's big hanging tits. The fact that she had the guys obviously big and thick cock down her throat was pretty cool but what really got me going was the way her tits hung so low. They must be enormous. I tried to imagine what she her tits would look like if she was standing up straight. As I stared at the photo, I became painfully aware that I was developing a woody. Shit!
There was no way my stupid running shorts could contain my bad boy when it got hard and sure enough, it started to grow and the head of my cock stuck out the bottom of my shorts. As it got harder and started to rise, it pulled back the leg of my shorts. Fuck! I grabbed my magazine, covered my dick and took a very quick look around. Whew! The place still looked empty and no one saw me. I tried as discreetly as possible to tuck it back into the leg of my shorts but it was way too big by now. I stood up and carefully stuffed it back up into my shorts and tried to position it so that it was standing straight up against my belly. Thank goodness for my t-shirt because about six inches of my cock was sticking up past the waistband of my shorts. I shifted my cock to the side a bit so I could sit down and arranged my t-shirt so that my cock was covered up.
I thought about taking the little porn booklet into the washroom and allow Ms. Palmer to beat my meat in an attempt to get rid of my hardon but I was worried someone might come by as steal my clothes. I looked at the sign on the wall that said "DO NOT LEAVE THE MACHINES UNATTENDED" and I guessed theft of other peoples clothing must be a big deal here. That would never do. Every stitch of clothing I owned was in these machines.
What to do? I thought I'd better try to resist the temptation to look at the booklet again if I wanted to give my boner a chance to settle down. Usually when I got a hardon, the only thing that would make it go away was to jerk off once or twice. I wished my laundry was finished already so I could run home and spank my monkey while looking at the booklet and staring at those big swinging tits that fascinated me so much. I knew that this little booklet would provide enough brain candy for quite a few jerk-off sessions. I tucked the booklet away inside my magazine and set it down in my laundry basket. It was then, after I looked up, that I saw a woman on the other side of this row of washers staring at me. Shit! I must have turned about six shades of red. Where did she come from? How much did she see? How long had she been watching me? Fuck! Talk about embarrassed. I must have been so preoccupied with my inconsiderate hardon that I never saw or heard her enter through the back door. Fuck! She looked at me like I was a total pervert. Fuck! She was still carrying her laundry basket and seemed frozen in place with her mouth open and staring at me. Fuck!
She suddenly snapped out of it and came to her senses. She dropped her laundry basket and took out a cell phone from the pocket of her purse. Fuck! Double Fuck! Was she calling the cops? Fuck me! She punched in a few numbers and then holding the cell phone out in front of her like a shield, came around to my side of the machines and approached me. Fuck! Shit! Piss!
"Can you read the numbers I have just entered into my phone young man"? I looked at her phone and just about shit myself when I saw the numbers "9-1-1".
