My Dream of Captain Kelly O'Connor
Reoccurring dreams, Michael dreamt of having sex with his commanding officer, Captain Kelly O'Connor.
Every night, something that I never had before, I had now. I had the same two, recurring dreams. I dreamt that I finally saw my commanding officer, Captain Kelly O'Connor off base, in public, and in her civilian clothes.
I hate her. Killed by friendly fire, if I had a gun, I'd shoot her. She's more than just a bitch. She's evil.
My dreams seemed so real and as if it really happened. With my planned revenge for what she did to me running as high as a fever, I dreamt that I bumped into her at a bar after she had been drinking. As payback for her after having me dishonorably discharged, I dreamt that I had sex with her.
Coming up behind her in the parking lot, I dreamt that I surprised her and stripped her naked. With a heavy hand to her shoulder while pushing her to her knees, I dreamt that she blew me. I dreamt that I pushed her in the backseat of her car and fucked her.
Every night, I had the same, two recurring dreams. Every night, my dreams started the same way. Every night, as if a teenager having wet dreams, I ejaculated in my sleep. I had sexual orgasms for Captain Kelly while sleeping.
# # #
With Houston a big city, seemingly, as if she's haunting me, I can't go anywhere without seeing my ex-commanding officer. After being dishonorably discharged, everywhere I go, I bump into her when she's in uniform. Never seeing her before, I always see her now. I saw her at Kroger this morning and at the Galleria Mall last night.
'Who the fuck does she think she is prancing around with those silver bars on her shoulders? She thinks she's hot stuff. She thinks she's a Goddess when she's just a captain in the army at Ellington Field, Joint Reserve Military Base,' I thought. 'Fuck her!'
Too much of a coincidence to see her again and again, especially when I never saw her before, I felt as if I was cursed to continually see her.
'Is she following me,' I wondered? 'Seemingly too much of a coincidence, yet, how would she know that I'd be here when she was here, too? As if it's our destiny to meet, it just seems odd to continually run into her,' I thought.
After all that she put me through, unable to get rid of her, it was upsetting for me to see her again and again. The last straw was seeing her at the Bombers Sports Bar tonight. Only tonight, the first time not seeing her in uniform, she was in her civilian clothes. With her having nothing good to say about me, had she seen me, she would have said something derogatory. No doubt, she would have started trouble. Seemingly, she hated me as much as I hated her.
Had she seen me, especially with her drinking, she would have started an altercation with me that would have had me arrested and thrown in jail. Yet, to be honest, a real looker, and taking my breath away, she looked hot in her civvies. I wished she liked me because now that I've seen her looking so hot, I'd love to date her. I'd love to marry her. I'd love to make her my wife.
'Who's dreaming now,' I thought?
I couldn't stop looking at her. I couldn't stop staring at her. She had one hell of a body under those clothes. Nonetheless, with too much fast and rising water under the bridge, I couldn't let go of my anger and my hatred for her. Before she saw me and started trouble, I left the bar.
Nonetheless my hatred of her, with the sexy image of her plastered in my mind, I admired her slim and shapely body, even when in uniform, especially when she's in uniform. An image that I'll never forget and will take to bed with me tonight, she was as sexy and shapely as she was beautiful. No matter, still angry, while wishing I could get revenge, I'd love to teach her a lesson that she'd never forget.
I'd love to put a heavy hand to her shoulder, force her to her knees, and have her blow me. With a forceful hand to the back of her redhaired, pretty head, I'd love to hump her mouth and fuck her face. I'd love her to suck my cock. I'd love to cum in her mouth. I'd love to watch her swallow my cum. Then, as my payback, I'd love to shoot a second load of cum all over her pretty face and in her beautiful red hair. I'd love to give Captain Kelly, my commanding officer, a cum bath.
Not stopping there with just a blowjob, I'd love to lift her up, turn her around, bend her forward, lift up her skirt, pull down her panties, and fuck her from behind without lubricating her. I'd love to tear her apart with my cock. I'd love to cum in her pussy. I'd love to give her the fucking that she needs.
Yet, nothing more than a sexual fantasy, she'd never even say hello to me and never mind have sex with me. Only, sadly, and frustratingly, nothing more than a frustrating, wet dream, none of that would ever happen. It wasn't until she had me arrested, tried, convicted, and discharged that I started having my recurring dream of having sex with her. Every night, I had the same, two dreams.
# # #
'That uniform doesn't make her better than me,' I thought while watching her sashaying around the grocery store and at the mall when in uniform. 'Those silver bars on her shoulders doesn't make her stronger, smarter, or better than me,' I said to myself while watching my commanding officer leave the bar alone. 'In the way she's dressed tonight, she's nothing but a whore.'
I was still angry that she brought charges against me. I was still angry that she had me dishonorably discharged. She forced me out of the military because she didn't like me, as simple as that. Always out to get me, she couldn't stand me. She hated me. And that was when my recurring dreams started. Every night, I dreamt that I had sex with her. Every night, I dreamt that I forced her to have sex with me.
Tonight, as soon as I put my head on my pillow, happening again, in the way that I saw her tomorrow night, I dreamt that she wasn't in uniform. The first time seeing her in civilian clothes at Bombers Sports Bar, with her short, red hair done nice and her wearing makeup, she looked hot. She wore a short skirt that showed off her shapely legs and that defined her round ass. She wore a low-cut, button blouse that showed her long, sexy line of cleavage, and that enhanced her enormous, double D cup breasts.
And with her having been drinking and a little drunk, I dreamt that she was ripe for the taking. I'd love to have sex with Captain Kelly. As if I was really there, and she was there with me, too, I looked around to see if anyone was out and about. With everyone still in the bar partying, the coast was clear. As if my dream was a replay of Thelma a Lousie where Mary Louise Parker was sexually assaulted in the parking lot of a bar, I dreamt that I was alone in the parking lot with Captain Kelly.
'Captain fucking Kelly. Look at her. She's drunk. She can't even walk straight,' I thought. 'How's she going to drive? She's nothing but a whore, a drunken whore,' I said out loud for no one to hear even though I was still asleep in my bed while dreaming of her in the future instead of in the past. 'Yet, she's a woman who I'd love to fuck.'
# # #
I dreamt that I was walking parallel with her while ducking behind cars so that she wouldn't see me following her. I stared at her shapely ass in her short skirt and through the car windows. I stared at her big, natural tits through her tight blouse bouncing as she walked.
Continuing to stare at her while we walked, I stared at her pretty face and her beautiful mouth. Indeed, even though she was such a vindictive bitch, she was a very good-looking woman. She had a phenomenal body. Her running with the platoon did her figure a lot of good.
I wondered what she was like in bed. I'd love to kiss her. I'd love to make out with her while touching and feeling her everywhere through her clothes. I'd love to slowly undress her.
If things between us were different, I'd ask her out. I'd love to date her but an officer in the army would have nothing to do with an enlisted man, especially one who was dishonorably discharged. Besides with her graduating from West Point and having a promising career in the military ahead of her, and with me barely finishing high school, what would we even talk about?
'We could talk about cars. I love cars,' I thought. 'I love the new, bright red, six-speed, Mustang GT that she drives. That's the kind of car that I'd buy, perhaps, not in red. Red is too flashy for me. I'd prefer a shiny, black Mustang.'
Yet, whenever she looked at me, she looked right through me as if I wasn't even there. She'd never want to have a conversation with me, even about cars, and even about her Mustang. I'm a no one and a nobody. I'm just a loser that she kicked out of the army and sent packing. I'm sure she doesn't give two thoughts about me. I'm sure that she isn't haunted by having recurring dreams about me in the way that I constantly and continually think about her.
Nevertheless, unable to remove her from my mind, I visualized her while I'm sleeping. Someway and somehow, she needs to be taught a lesson. I envisioned getting even with her and fixing her ass while I'm dreaming about her. In my surreal dreams, with her too drunk to know that I was following her, I watched her walk closer to her car.
# # #
Nothing more than my active and revengeful imagination, my dreams seemed so real, but they are nothing more than my masturbation fantasies playing tricks on my mind. Something that I masturbate over every night, and every morning, I dreamt of striping my commanding officer naked and having sex with her. I dreamt of taking control of her in the way that she took control of me by having the military police arrest me and lock me in the guardhouse.
'Showing her who's the boss, I want to fuck her,' I thought. 'I need to fuck her. I can't wait to stick my big dick in my captain's cunt. I need to make her my bitch. I need to get even with her for her ruining my life.'