"He's having that dream again."
"Persistent little son-of-a-bitch, isn't he?"
"Permit me to remind you, Commander Yadoni, that you were the one who introduced him to the visual of Carina."
"I know, but I also introduced him to Fellina and Martina's visuals also."
"And he imprinted on her."
"Yes. You should be offering me congratulations, Soloni. Phase One has been completed without a hitch."
"Yes, Commander Yadoni. You are correct. Congratulations." The alien subordinate glanced over at her master, his cloven fingers hovering above the blinking button. "Shall we launch Phase Two?"
Yadoni gazed at the holographic image of the sleeping young man who was tossing and turning while his hand vigorously fisted his swollen, reddish-purple cock. Having no external sex organ himself, Yadoni was always mesmerized by the sight of a human's anatomy, especially the parts that related to procreation. He leaned closer and hummed in appreciation at the pearls of pre-cum that steadily bubbled from the large slit, watching as the young man's palm slid up and over, gathering and dispersing it down his long, thick rod. It would happen soon by the reactions of the young man's body and he was not disappointed.
A fountain of thick white cream exploded from the rounded end and the young man groaned and thrashed as if he was in pain. Several more spurts followed, each accompanied by a tortured expression and a deep groan.
And finally, he was still.
Yadoni leaned back, swallowing his own ejaculate and tenderly licking the two small tubes that were softening and retracting back into their burrows just behind his teeth. Soloni did the same, hiding his reaction in the appearance of being busy and it was some time before either alien spoke.
"Begin Phase Two."
Soloni depressed the button and the second part of the experiment began.
Jamie Halloran awoke at seven and lay quietly while tears filled his eyes, then coursed down his cheeks. It was the same dream; the same dream that had claimed his sleeping hours for five straight days in a row and the same dream that was slowly but surely driving him insane. This time, she had touched him and the sticky evidence on his hand and chest told him that he hadn't just cum in his dream. It had been so real, so real that each morning he'd awakened, expecting her to be lying next to him. And each morning, he was alone, with only scattered cumstains and salty residue to prove that he'd had the dream.
Why couldn't she be real?
