The Party

She was sitting back in a corner, out of the bustle of the party, with her skirt pulled around her waist, idly toying with her cunt lips when I noticed her. "Notice" is probably too weak a word to use here, but it will do.

It isn't that often that I get out to parties, and when I do, I very seldom see beautiful girls toying with their pussies in plain view of the crowd. Again, "seldom" is much too weak, but you get my drift.

I've never been what you would call glib around strange women. The usual light banter does not appeal to me and it takes so long to think of a truly astonishing quip that the party has usually wound down before I'm wound up.

Even had I been glib, I doubt that I would have known quite what to say to her. She seemed intent on making some sort of statement with her fingers in her crotch. I got the part about how boring the party was and how she didn't give a shit what the partygoers thought about her activities and the part about "fuck you and the horse you rode in on", but I still had a lot of questions. Who was she? Was it some sort of trap? Had she been doing this all night or had she just started as I walked into the room? Was it for my benefit or was I just lucky?

The oddest part was that I seemed to be the only one to notice her at all.

"Are you real?" I finally blurted.

"Does this look like a fake cunt to you?" she challenged me by pulling the pink lips wide apart.

"No, not really. It's just my first time to discover a beautiful girl at a party playing with her pussy. I thought perhaps the shrimp cocktail I had for lunch was past its prime and was causing me to hallucinate. May I touch it? Just to verify the reality, of course."

"Of course" she replied, spreading her knees far apart and lifting her ass slightly to offer herself more easily to my probing fingers.

She was real, all right. If not, I was hallucinating a hell of a pungent odor from my fingers. I sucked the pearly drops from my finger tips.

"Would you like to go somewhere so that I can use the main probe to verify your reality?" I ventured.

"What's wrong with right here?"

"It seems a trifle public to my taste. Couldn't we just sneak out the back way or something."

"Sneaking doesn't appeal to me. You're welcome to blast your balls off in my cunt, but you'll have to do it right here."

"Why?" I began, but she cut me off.

"Are we going to argue or are we going to fuck?"

I looked around. Nobody seemed to see us at all. My prick was begging to get out and plow into her sweet pussy, but I was having trouble coming to terms with the terms of my coming. The apartment was packed with people. Never mind the fact that she seemed to be invisible to them.

For that matter, nobody was paying the slightest attention whatsoever to me, either. Maybe we were invisible after all. Don't ask me how. But I knew I wanted to try my best to fill that cute little hole she was teasing.

Very warily, I unzipped my fly and looked around. Nobody noticed. I pulled old Roger out and waved him in her face. Nobody noticed. I motioned for her to stand and bend over so I could fry the old bacon, but she wanted more.

"You must take off your pants. I don't fuck a guy with his pants on."

"Aw, give me a break. I'm dying here as it is, afraid that any minute now everybody will notice me standing here with a stiff prick in my hands."

"Not until you take off your pants."

Looking around one more time to verify my invisibility, I quickly stepped out of my pants and shorts and threw them in the corner behind her. "Ok, let's fuck!" I said.

"No. You're the one that's fucked" she threw at me, standing quickly and dropping her skirt. As she stood, the whole crowd turned to stare at me. A newspaper photographer came in from the next room and snapped several quick shots of me as the center of attention.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My breath was coming in shallow gasps. I was so full of adrenaline I could hardly stop trembling. My emotions were yanking me all over the place.

I simply had to find a way to stop these dreams. They were getting stronger and stronger. It was the same girl every time and she always left me in some kind of dangerous or embarrassing situation. She was so familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place her.

Was she somebody I had known, or a composite of several people, or did she just share certain characteristics with someone from my past?

She was the kind of girl who knows her way around. Maybe she had been a barmaid or had some kind of job that caused her to lose any shyness she might have had and to learn how to field unwelcome advances with ease.

She always seemed to be in control of the situation, wherever we were. She was the local, at home, comfortable. I was always the stranger, walking into a new situation where I had to size up the situation at a glance and always failing in some terrible manner. Almost every dream resulted in my coming awake in a panic, like this morning.

As much as I enjoyed the dreams, the shock at the end was making me a nervous wreck.

I was almost beginning to dread going to sleep, but at the same time, couldn't wait to do so.

The phone rang. My mother was calling to invite me for the weekend. If I knew her, she would be having someone "special" for me to meet. She had been trying to marry me off for years. I didn't mind. I felt no obligation to continue contact with someone simply because we had been introduced. If it made my mother happy, then why not go along with her for a few hours?

I arrived at the house early and rang the bell. I no longer carried a key. I looked away at the traffic on the street while waiting, but heard the door open. When I looked back, it wasn't the smiling face of my mother, but it was the girl from my dream! She was smiling at me very warmly. I was stunned and had no idea what to do. She merely stood quietly with a gentle smile while I collected myself enough to follow her inside.

"Hello, Dear. I see you've already met Jeanine. She's a very special person and I'm doing some work with her. Perhaps the two of you can get acquainted while I finish up in the kitchen."

I, for one, certainly intended to get better acquainted. She may not be the same person I had been dreaming about, but she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen and I couldn't wait to get in her pants, if possible. She was certainly "special".

I tried to explain to her about my dreams, but she never said a word--just kept smiling that same sweet, sexy smile at me, even when I approached her and took her in my arms. She made no objection as I kissed her and found her hard tits in my hands.

Without consciously being aware of the sequence of events, I soon found my self standing in my mother's living room with my dick buried to the hilt in a beautiful woman. The enormity of what I was doing suddenly struck me, but before I could move, my mother swept into the room and stopped , aghast, right in front of me.

"Why John Paul Jones! Whatever are you doing? How dare you act like this in my house? How dare you take advantage of that poor girl at any time? Can't you tell she is retarded? She may have the body of a woman, but she has the mind of a toddler. I told you she was "special". What I meant was that she requires special treatment. Not only has she been raped repeatedly by men like yourself taking advantage of her inability to resist, but I'm afraid that she has almost every communicable sexual disease known to medicine."

I woke up in a cold sweat. My breath was coming in shallow gasps. I was so full of adrenaline I could hardly stop trembling. My emotions were yanking me all over the place.

At any rate, I felt the need to do something about it. I wasn't sure what to do. After all, it was just a dream, or series of dreams. What could it mean? Was there anyone, anywhere who could make a difference, or was I losing my mind?

On the off-chance that the latter was true, I leafed through the yellow pages until I located a psychiatrist with a nearby office. It seemed as good a criteria as any, since I had no other way to evaluate their potential usefulness to me. To my astonishment, I was given an appointment for the very next morning!

I arrived right on time, a little out of breath and apprehensive at the prospect of possibly learning that I was certifiably insane. "Is a psychiatrist duty-bound to report lunatics to the police?" I wondered.

The receptionist was a knockout! High, firm tits rode jauntily upward from a trim waist, without constraint. Her nipples strained at her starched, crisp uniform blouse. I could see the outline of her aureole through the white cloth. The smile she gave me was positively radiant. Never mind the psychiatrist, the visit was worth the trip just to see his receptionist. He must have hired her for her body. If she could write her name, it would be a bonus. Typing or any other office skills would just be too damn much to expect.

"Doctor will be with you in just a moment", she breathed, in the sexiest voice I've ever heard.

I was in lust. I tried to read one of the magazines on the waiting room table, but couldn't take my eyes off the lovely body behind the desk. At any moment, she was going to demand that I quit staring at her, but so far, she acted as if she welcomed my attention. She made several trips across the room to retrieve papers from the bottom drawer of a large filing cabinet. What grace! What charm! She moved as if there were no bones in her body. She apparently did not care in the least that I could see the white patch at her crotch when she knelt to reach the papers. My prick was lurching frantically in my pants. If "Doctor" hadn't come to the door right then, I was on the way to an embarrassing situation.

My first glimpse of the person opening the door to the doctor's office made my blood run cold. It was her! I mean, IT! WAS! HER!!!!! There was simply no doubt about it. The patient with the appointment just before mine on this particular day was the same identical person who was haunting my dreams! I stood, staring. My jaw must have been dragging on the floor. My head was spinning. The effects of the show I had been watching with the receptionist had dulled my senses significantly, and now this!

I determined to ask the doctor for her name as soon as I got inside. Meanwhile, I finally managed to avert my gaze marginally, so that I was no longer staring directly at her. It would stand to reason that most psychiatric patients would not particularly enjoy being stared at as they left the doctor's office. My shock was complete when she walked directly up to me and put out her hand.

"Good morning. I'm Doctor Smith. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but one of my other patients was having an emergency and needed some consolation."

Things were happening too fast for me to keep up with them. This beautiful, luscious thing in the sexy silk dress, just like the one she had worn at the party, was my psychiatrist? It was too much. I stood, dumbly watching as the two beauties managed to lead me into the office and place me on the couch. Barbi smiled and gave me a reassuring wink as she quietly closed the door on her way out. I couldn't see my doctor, which was just as well. It was going to take some time to adjust to this situation.

"Well, what seems to be the matter?" asked the girl of my dreams.

I tried to answer her--I really did, but nothing would come out. My mouth worked, but no sound came forth. I don't know what I would have said, anyway. How do you go about trying to explain to a psychiatrist that they themselves are the person in the dreams that are driving you mad? Am I mad? Am I just on the way? How can I worry about losing my credibility with her when I have none to begin with?

She sat quietly, watching my feeble attempts at answering dribble down my chin. Finally, she leaned over her desk to the intercom. "Miss Jones, can you come in, please?"

"Miss Jones, Mr. Smith is obviously distraught in some way. Can you do something to relax him so that we can proceed?"

"Yes, Doctor." Miss June knelt beside my couch and carefully unzipped the door to my pleasure stick. "Oh, it's so big", she breathed as she untangled it from my fly.

If it wasn't big before, it quickly got that way as she lovingly stroked it while the doctor watched quietly. Then, very, very slowly, she eased inch after inch of my manhood down her throat until the entire thing was hidden between her ruby lips. I still couldn't talk, but I was in heaven!

Then she bit it off.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My breath was coming in shallow gasps. I was so full of adrenaline I could hardly stop trembling. My emotions were yanking me all over the place.