I hadn't considered writing a story like this until a recent conversation. In discussing several popular kinks, I had asked one of my lovely muses, "what's the big deal with tentacle porn?" Her simple response was, "it's like cock, only better." This is for her.
___________
The experiment: A mouse is in a cage with two levers. One level delivers food. The other level is attached to a device which stimulates the sexual pleasure response in the mouse's brain. The mouse hasn't eaten in days.
___________
"Oh! Gagh!"
Cathy cried out softly, waking abruptly. Her abdomen quivered deliciously, bringing to her awareness the powerful orgasm which had roused her from sleep. Involuntarily, her hand raced to her enflamed sex, her mind struggling to grasp at fragments of the dream that stimulated her to such a degree. She held herself still, abdomen tensed, basking in the sensation; tinges of shock, fear, and confusion coloring the delightful experience.
"What the..." her voice trailed off. Surveying the master bedroom, she was alone. As per usual, her husband, Paul, had roused before her. The scent of coffee whiffed through the open bedroom door.
'What the hell was that?" she thought, 'Since when do I climax from a dream?'
Swinging her legs out of the bed, Cathy caught herself as she stumbled. "Oh damn!" Leaning against the bed, she was forced to wait patiently for her legs to regain strength. Giggling to herself, she mused, 'oh well, at least it was good,' still enjoying the lingering shivers of excitation.
Thinking furiously, she struggled to recall the details of her erotic dream. Only amorphous impressions of a dark, mysterious lover flitted about the edges of her remembrance. The tantalizing tidbits, though brief and formless, brought forth a flood of sensations; Trepidation at the unknown, insatiable curiosity, and a nearly overwhelming physical need which threatened to overwhelm her.
Sitting on the bed, Kathy worked to calm herself down. 'Is something wrong with me?' she mused, growing concerned.
"No," the answer dawned upon her forcefully.
Instantly, she knew she was right. 'It must have been a doozy of a dream," she thought, chuckling to herself. "If this is the result, I should have last night's leftovers for dinner tonight.'
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself to start her day.
Upon reaching the kitchen, she was disappointed to find Paul had already left for work. Frowning to herself, she poured her coffee.
The unfulfilled need ached within her, like an itch at the center of her being. She had hoped Paul would still be home and eager to aide her satisfy it's growing persistence. 'Did Paul go in early?' she pondered, then nearly spat out her coffee.
"Ten o'clock!" Her shocked exclamation reverberated throughout the empty house. Frantically preparing to leave for work, she chastised herself, 'damn it! Girl, get it together. What on Earth is going on with me? Waking up three hours late!'
Racing out the door, the mysterious dream faded into the back of her mind. She strived to form the words to explain her tardiness as she drove herself to work. Yet, the itch persisted.
*****
Cathy's day went on tinged by the surreal niggling of her faded erotic remembrance. Having no other excuse, she simply admitted to sleeping in, apologizing repeatedly and self-deprecatingly. Luckily, her employer was fair and understanding, only issuing a gentle warning that, "while these things happen, we cannot afford to allow them to become habits."
Stressed out and working frenetically, she strived to catch up on the hours missed. Forgetting to eat lunch, Cathy didn't get a chance to breath until three o'clock.
Collapsing heavily into her office chair, Cathy leaned back. Closing her eyes, she permitted herself a moment of repose.
All at once, the itching need asserted itself. Heat spread throughout her abdomen, igniting flames of carnality. Kathy reclined further as if inviting the enticing, dark presence of her dream to take her.
Part of her mind searched in vain to place a face upon the vision. Only impressions of conversation could be grasped at; being understood completely, her thoughts, feelings, her needs. The deepest part of her being yearned to be known like that, body and soul. Her posture shifted, reflecting eager openness.
Cathy's pulse raced, the barest glimmer of her dream driving her toward ecstasy with the inevitability of a runaway train. Lightly bucking up at the unknown, she was on the cusp of surrender.
"Thud!" The closing of an adjacent office door rang through her office, breaking through her reverie. Deep crimson embarrassment bloomed across her face. Stark realization dawning as to how close she had come to complete abandon... and in her office! 'What if someone saw? Or heard for that matter?' she reprimanded herself, painfully aware of how close she had been to crying out with ecstatic joy.
"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath. She had wasted another twenty minutes! Springing into a flurry of action, she told herself to keep as busy as possible. 'I need to get past this,' she resolved. 'I hope Paul is in a good mood tonight. Whatever is going on with me, I need to get it out of my system. Fast!'
Somewhere in the back of her mind came the nagging doubt, 'what if I don't want to get over this?' Shaking her head at the notion, Cathy leapt to accomplish her duties. Pointedly ignoring the racing of her heartbeat.
*****
"Fluff!" Cathy called out excitedly, hearing their front door close.
"Yeah, Babe!" Paul called back, responding to the odd, yet familiar, pet-name she'd given him.
Cathy bounded through the house, feet barely touching the floor. Since arriving home forty-minutes prior, she had been desperately busying herself to keep her mind off her incessant urge for physical satisfaction. Dressed in sports bra and leggings, she had resorted to putting on a workout video.
With Paul home, she leapt to seduce her husband without delay. Wrapping herself around him, she kissed her man, breathing deep of his familiar scent.
Slightly staggered by her exuberant embrace, Paul caught his footing, saying, "wow, gorgeous. What's on fire?" Chuckling, he attempted to remove his coat while still holding onto his animated bride.
"I am," Cathy said heatedly, clawing at her man. Her intent was painfully evident, though her aggressiveness was somewhat out of character.
Paul's expression became bemused, though certainly interested. Cathy took any attention as a positive sign pointing towards satisfying what had become an all-encompassing itch. Impatiently, she pawed at her man, clumsily removing his clothes, pulling him into their bedroom.
"Now!" she commanded, unwilling to entertain any other possibility than immediate sexual union with her man.
For his part, Paul was thrilled, though confused, by her amorous behavior.
Stripping her top off, Cathy tossed it aside, pressing her naked chest to his. Her lips met Paul's, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she stepped out of her leggings and pounced.
*****
"Ugh, yes! Argh!"
"Hon, are you okay?" Paul's voiced floated into the bedroom.
Cathy awoke, her body quaking ecstatically. "Uh?" she looked about, confused as her waking mind asserted itself. The delectable sensation of sapphic joy dominated her attention, retarding her ability to focus. Agonizingly, she knew she was in her bedroom. Seconds before she had been blissfully... elsewhere.
The lingering impression of her phantom lover's treatment caused her to gasp, its absence threatening tears to form. Doubling upon herself, she ran her fingers over her sensitized flesh, attempting to recreate the effect of her secret paramour's touch. She felt as though every cell of her body was alive, responding to a sort of stimulation she had never known was possible. Laying still, she grasped at the fading memory of her rapturous dream. 'Don't go,' she thought, seeking to hold onto the all-encompassing erotic bliss.
'TONIGHT.' The promise asserted itself forcefully.
Cathy's breath caught, terror gripping her from head to toe. The voice of her dream lover rang in her ears. Daring to look around, the rays of the morning sun revealed no figure in the bedroom. She was alone.
Heart racing, Cathy sat up, attempting to collect her jumbled thoughts. 'Did I really just hear the voice from my dream?' That didn't seem possible. Yet, the thought of it filled her with a curious mix of hope and fear. 'Wake up girl,' Cathy chastised herself, 'don't get carried away.'
Throwing back the covers, she swung out her feet and stood up. Feeling something slide down her leg, Cathy looked down, curious.
Her legs felt as though they transformed to rubber. Cathy sat heavily upon the bed, dumb-founded as the sinuous thrill of shock raced up and down her spine. There, laying damningly at her feet, was the tattered remains of the panties she had worn to bed last night. The cool caress of the morning air upon her sensitive sex confirmed that she was bare under the old oversized t-shirt she wore as a nightie.
Her pulse deafeningly loud, Cathy desperately sought an explanation. 'Did I do that in my sleep? Did that happen when Paul and I were together?' Incapable of finding the memory, Cathy decided she must have done it while in the throes of her dream. 'Maybe I should talk to a therapist? I feel like I am losing control. Why don't I remember?'
Deep within herself she feared to examine the situation too closely. A growing part of her regarded it as a gift. It was so freeing; this ardent fire of lust that burn within her, constantly promising joy should she simply surrender to it. The certain impression that she was desired and sought by lovers desperate for what only she could give. No woman she has ever spoken too has ever related such experiences to her. She had never even heard of such things. After all, what was the real problem? Pleasure? Achieving a level of physical fulfillment which bordered upon the superlative? Why not? Why should anyone question such a thing? Smiling impishly, deep within, she permitted herself the private vanity, 'maybe I'm special.'
Paul appeared in the bedroom door. "Hey, I heard something. You okay?"
