Did you ever have one of those dreams. If you have, you'll know the kind I mean. So real you can't believe it isn't actually happening? You wake up after, disoriented, weird memories floating in your head that sometimes just disappear leaving an odd feeling and a wet patch on your pajamas. Or sometimes remain burned in your memory. Well, I've been having them a lot. Like a lot, lot. Most don't fade. I was thinking I should probably go talk to someone about them, but I felt too embarrassed to relate what happened in them. And then something strange happened. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
My name's Ben. I'm 25, still live at home in a big city you'd have heard of. I'm six feet tall, work out regularly and would consider myself to be alright looking. I live in an amazing two story apartment with my mom and two sisters, Sue and Kate. A few years back, I had a very active sex life but more recently I'd hit a dry spell. I guess that's probably what brought on the dreams. Family life is cool. We all give each other a lot of space. But we have plenty of time for each other too. We all work, although I'm the only one who can wfh 5 days a week. That gives me a good bit of time to myself.
I had a pretty good sleep pattern, especially since the start of my dry spell. I wasn't too bothered by anything. The dreams just came out of the blue. First night, I'd fallen asleep watching movies on my laptop. Then, I was in a coffee shop with an older woman. Like older old. Maybe 60s. Maybe even older. She was attractive enough in a slightly saggy sort of way, and was familiar looking without being someone I knew. She obviously kept herself fit, but you could tell gravity wasn't her friend anymore. She had nice boobs but you could see they were being held in position by artificial means. We were talking about astrophysics, a subject I know nothing about. In this dream, that didn't seem to matter and we chatted away. There was no context as to why we were there, how we met or how we started talking about such an odd topic. Her name was Abi. I remember that. She had a nice face, attractive. Dark hair, bright eyes, luscious lips.
The coffee shop was busy with late morning trade, but the two of use weren't in any hurry. We sat beside each other in a booth, sipping on lattes, chewing the celestial fat. Abi was wearing a low cut red blouse and a black skirt that came down to above her knees. Somehow, I was aware she had an attractive butt, but don't know how. Or what relevance it had to the conversation. A blonde eighteen year old girl sailed by the booth on rollerblades at some point. I was drawn to her pert breasts and pointy nipple that stuck out from her chest.
Abi caught me looking at roller babe and asked me what did I like in women. Through some bizarre logic that only works in dreams, I decided to be honest. I mentioned the girl's beautiful breasts and expressed regret that I hadn't caught sight of her ass in the tiny shorts she'd been wearing. Abi smiled as if reminiscing. She asked me what did I feel about the role experience might play in lovemaking. I told her I'd had plenty of experience. She said I'd probably had the same one or two experiences repeated many times. That doesn't make a huge amount of sense as I write it, but it seemed really profound and insightful at the time.
Totally contrary to what I would do in real life, I asked her what her experience could teach someone like me. She said that sex was wasted on the youth. That it was only from the distant hills of age you could truly look back and see what it was. And what's that? I asked. Something to be grasped and grabbed at any and all opportunities, she replied.
As she finished that last bit of advice, I became aware of a sensation in my loins. I looked down and realized Abi was wanking me under the table. Far from being surprised, I instead became fixated on her slightly wrinkled hand on my cock as she slid it effortlessly up and down my shaft. And at no time did I think it strange that this older woman was giving me a handjob in a busy coffee shop. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to do. When I looked up from my lap, Abi leaned in and kissed me on the lips. I found my mouth opening and her tongue flicking inside. We kissed passionately, my own tongue found its way into her mouth and we explored each other's mouths while her hand was busy under the table.
Before I knew it, Abi had leaned sideways and took me in her mouth. The feeling was incredible as her aforementioned experience came to the fore. One hand cupped my balls and played with them, while her mouth settled over my head in an 'O' shape. Her wet red lipstick covered lips inched up and down over the head, while her tongue swirled around over my glans. Then she sank her mouth down to the base of my cock, I felt the tip of my penis slide into the back of her throat. Then she slid her mouth back up along it. This she did three of four times before returning her affection to the tip. Then she was bobbing like it was Halloween and she was hungry for all the apples. My fingers snaked through her hair and send little nudges of appreciation through to her rather than any guidance. She knew what she was doing. Truth be told, she had me coming more than I ever had before in my life in less than two minutes. As I climaxed with a massive rush of orgasmic jizz, I woke. I was lying in my bed, disoriented, and my cock was covered in massive gobs of cum. The memory of the orgasm clung to me like a hot shower on a cold day.
I had a similar dream every night for a week. The setting changed but Abi and her ministrations remained constant. I took to changing my bed covers every few days, causing something of a celebration in the house. Abi began to fill my waking moments too. And I found myself requiring quick pitstops to the bathroom to relieve dynamic tension. To be honest, it wasn't concerning. Quite the opposite, really. I would now drop off to sleep with an expectant smile on my face, waiting for my mature lover to put in an appearance. It never bothered me that the encounters seemed a little, ehm, one sided. I took what enjoyment I could from the dream encounters and thought no more about it.
That is, until the day of the dry cleaning.
It began as usual, me waking, showering and burying my crusty shorts in the depths of the laundry. Mom asked me at breakfast if I could drop some items into the local laundromat for some dry cleaning. I duly collected said items and toddled off the three or four blocks. On entering the premises for the first time in some months, the familiar chemical smell assailed my nostrils. I stood at the counter waiting to be served. There was only one person on that day. She was working away behind a wall of plastic covered items hanging from the ceiling.
"Be with you in a minute." She called out. Something about her voice rang a bell in my memory but I put it out of mind almost immediately as I flicked through my social media while I waited.
"Now!" A cheery female voice said and I looked up. Into Abi's face. Two thoughts collided in my brain, thankfully stopping any words from tumbling out of my mouth. First, this was the woman of my dreams. Second, this was, of course, the woman from the dry cleaners that I had met, maybe three times before in real life. She looked at me quizzically and without recognition, then at the clothes in my hand. I stuttered and laid them on the counter.
"Three days, ok?" She smiled as she asked the question and I had the curious flashback image of her lips wrapped around my cock. In real life, she was closer to sixty-five, greying a bit and carrying a little more weight that she had in my dreams. Her face was a little more saggy and lined and her hands more wrinkled. I stood staring at her, clothes still held by my side. Then, manners returned, and I saw she was holding her hand out, a curious look on her face. I laid the clothes on the counter.
"Sure, no problem." I said meekly.
This time, she looked closer at me.
"Do I know you?" She asked and my heart started pumping hard and irrationally in my chest.
"Em, just from here." I tried.
"No." She said, biting her lip and creasing her brow. "I'm sure I've bumped into you somewhere else."
I shrugged. A look of what I can only describe as impossible recognition crossed her face. Her eyes went wide, and it was her turn to be flustered. She dropped the proffered clothes, bent down to pick them up. Tore off a chit and handed it to me.
"Th, Thursday" She said with a strange look of disbelief. I could swear she was blushing. I took the chit and left the laundry quickly, not daring to look at her again. All the way home, I replayed the exchange to be sure it had been as odd as I'd first felt. Could she be having the same dreams as me? That wasn't possible. A person's dreams were their own. There wasn't some great collective unconscious connecting us. I put it down to having one of those faces, and thought no more about it.
My nights with Abi continued. Now, though, that I had a real life person to connect the woman with, they took on a new importance. I became aware of being in a dream while I was dreaming, something I hadn't experienced before. She too seemed to be more familiar with me. Although neither of us mentioned having bumped into the other in the real world. Why would we? Thursday rolled around and I volunteered to collect the dry cleaning much to mom's surprise. To be honest, I really wanted to see the real Abi again. If nothing else, it had added a real frisson to the nocturnal encounters.
I took a deep breath at the door, and pushed it open. Abi stood behind the counter when I walked up to it. This time, it was like she was waiting for me. Her eyes opened wide again at the sight of me, as if I was way more familiar with her in real life than I was. The corners of her eyes crinkled, and a coy smile played about the sides of her lips. I handed her the chit for collection, my hand shaking slightly. I couldn't break eye contact with her or, or apparently she with me. We connected in a way that made me feel a little woozy -- a little turned on, to be honest. I felt a familiar stirring in my trousers.
"I can't shake the feeling that we know each other." Abi said as I held out the chit.
"Really?" I gulped.
Her hand touched mine as she took the little piece of paper. I jolted at the touch, and saw her react the same way.
"Strange." She laughed shyly. "Electric shock."
I nodded and smiled back.
"I have one of those faces." I said redundantly.
She shook her head. "No, that's not it." Her face had creased into a puzzled expression again. "It's something more ... intimate." She took on a faraway look as if remembering something. Then, it looked like a particular memory crossed her face and she blushed, her eyes dropping to the counter. She looked back up at me, a slightly pleading look in her eyes.
"Can I tell you something strange?" She asked hesitantly.
