Levi strode beneath a glaring spotlight, the growl in his chest keeping time with the rolling of a hidden snare drum.
He was alone on the dark stage, stalking in brightly illuminated circles as the pool of brilliant light moved to keep him at its center. All else was pitch blackness, accentuated by the shadows of still shapes around him as the percussion instrument kept up the persistent
rat-a-tat
from the gods only knew where.
The auditorium held a ghostly, other-worldly quality. There but also not quite there in an ethereal fashion. Levi couldn't shake the dogged sense that something should be happening at that moment. Something vital was missing from the scene loaded with vague, dreamy
Déjà vu...
"Where are you?!" He roared, and the deep gravel of his voice was swallowed up by the all-pervasive darkness. "Come face me!"
Levi didn't even know who he was challenging or what he was missing. There was just endless drum roll droning on and on, offending his sense of sensibility in this place, at this time. He clenched his fists at his sides and felt his fingernails dig into his palms like claws as his rippling muscles bunched in agitation.
That non-stop goddamn drumbeat was maddening. It had to end!
His golden eyes reflected the blinding stage lighting as he locked his sights on the shadowy orchestra pit where the invisible percussionist undoubtedly performed his cursed music. Levi dropped to all fours in a low crouch and then pounced.
His powerful hindquarters sent him sailing far over the edge of the stage, forelimbs outstretched, and teeth bared before he plummeted into eternal blackness...
________________
Levi shot upwards in bed, going from a prone position to seated with shocking abruptness. The clicking of an off-balance ceiling fan whirled above him with irritating regularity, but otherwise, he was alone in the sprawling four-poster as the morning breeze off the lake caressed his burly chest from the open double doors of the balcony.
There was that brief puzzled moment all sleepers experience when they awaken in an unfamiliar bed before Levi took a deep breath to calm his hammering heart.
Had he been dreaming? Waking from anxiety-riddled night terrors wasn't an uncommon experience for the nervous college freshman, but he wasn't trembling with fear this morning...
He was seething with anger.
He was actually shaking with fury.
Levi was rock hard with it, he realized, peering down at the pagoda his rage boner was pitching under the cool satin sheets.
What the fuck had he been dreaming about?
Grumbling with discontent, he threw off the lavish coverings and climbed out of the opulently large bed. His riled-up manhood swung for the fences as Levi stood naked in the expansive bedroom and hunted about for his clothing.
Yesterday seemed like the delirious hallucinations of a man stricken with fever in the light of a new day. Had he really fucked his beguiling neighbor Alina senseless while some hugely inflated, cartoonish copy of Carmen begged to suck him clean afterward? Surely not...
But the memory was there, fresh as a horny daisy, and that wasn't the half of it.
...Alina holding a kneeling Carmen's arms, chicken-winged behind her back and whispering strict instructions in her ear as the new maid fucked her own pretty face onto Levi's unyielding length, choking herself on his gagging girth.
...Carmen wrapping her unbelievably soft cushiony cleavage (that Levi was certain the Latina co-ed didn't possess last week) around the steely shaft of his massive manhood and calling him "Master" as Alina made out with him long and passionately on the Chesterfield couch in her parlor.
...Alina squealing and laughing in drunken glee when Levi pinned her to the bed, valiantly attempting to fuck the gorgeous Russian goddess through the plush mattress and into the floor. All while "the new help" (as she derisively called Carmen) lapped at their pumping privates, moaning loudly and frantically frigging herself stupid under the frilly skirts of the skimpy French maid outfit.
It had been a furious bacchanal of degenerate debauchery, and Levi had acted not at all like himself.
Things were getting terribly strange...
The first example of this was that Levi couldn't find his clothing. What he did find was a neatly folded set of men's clothing laid out on the hand-carved mango wood chest at the end of the bed. A pair of crisply pressed tan linen pants and a bone white, turndown Havana shirt with boxers, belt, and socks included were laid out in preparation for him. An expensive-looking pair of supple leather loafers was tucked beneath the stack of heinously high-end apparel.
It all fitted his swarthy frame well--almost as though it were custom tailored--Levi had to admit as he shrugged his way into the light springtime fabrics. He decided to leave the top few buttons of the shirt undone as he stepped into the imminently comfortable footwear. It was shaping to be a warm day, and his broad chest could use the extra breathing room.
Adjusting his stubborn erectness where it was stuffed down one pant leg, Levi growled in frustration and set off in search of answers to questions still unformed and vague in his mind.
...and breakfast too. He was famished.
________________
"Darling!" Alina cried in her rich, sonorous accent when Levi entered the large, well-appointed kitchen. "You have risen too early! No, no, you should rest more, my Lion. Go back to bed. Your Alina has not sung for you yet."