Active Imagination Ch. 02

I'd never had much luck in the art of picking up women. That's not to say that it never happened, it was just infrequent at best. I would never call myself an Adonis, but I was attractive enough. I just lacked the confidence. Thus I'd developed a pretty active fantasy life to make up for it. Fortunately, God had seen fit to gift me with an extremely vivid imagination. I could close my eyes and get completely lost in another world, another life or, simply a sexual encounter. Up until now it was a gift that had served me well. Now it was starting to scare me. Okay, I'll be honest, it was scaring the hell out of me.

There were always stories about people who couldn't discern the difference between fantasy and reality and every time I heard them, I found myself wondering how they could let themselves drift so far. I'd never had any mental issues, no psychotic episodes in my sordid past, but I was starting to understand what it must feel like to completely lose your grip. It was freaking me out, but I was doing my best to keep calm. I knew that in actuality, I was lying on my couch, alone, probably with a few globs of cum on my stomach. I'd never lost myself like this, and I wasn't about to start now.

I tried not to think about the fact that, although my sexual imaginings had always been rather vivid, they'd never felt like this. I'd swear on a bible, in a court of law that I'd actually felt Natalie's warm lips caressing my hard-on. I had felt the moisture, and stimulating caress of her tongue. It was difficult to wrap my mind around the situation. Maybe I was going crazy. Out of desperation I pinched my arm. All I got for my trouble was a brief moment of pain.

"I see you're still here." I glanced down. Natalie Portman was still kneeling between my legs, my spunk drying on her face and in her dark tousled hair. The white shine of my baby batter was a rather sharp contrast to the dark blue of her eye shadow. She was wearing a curious smile.

Again my attention was drawn down between her legs. There should have been a pussy down there; hot, wet, and ready for penetration, but instead she'd been gifted with the tool that would do the penetrating. The starlet had a fist wrapped around it and was stroking her erection almost absent mindedly. I was sure that from the base of her well-kept bush to the tip of her purple mushroom head, she had to be at least eight inches, maybe a little more. It was all more than a little off putting. Even in the dark it stood out.

"Not for lack of trying," I whispered with a sigh. There had to be a way out of this.

"This feels great," she smirked, glancing down at her cock. Her rhythm was slow and steady. "Oh," she whispered. "Mm."

I stood up. "I'm so happy for you," I sneered. I walked away, toward the light switch. Maybe I could shock myself into waking up. I flipped the switch and had to squint for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the light. When I turned, Natalie was still there. She was standing now, even in two inch heels the actress was still several inches shorter than me. Her top was still up around her collarbone, leaving her small breasts and pert, bright nipples visible. She had a faraway look in her almond eyes as she continued to jerk her new appendage.

She sighed, and released her grip. Her dick fell forward resting against her left leg. It didn't look like it belonged there, laying against the purple fishnets. "You don't have to be such a dick about it." She slowly walked over, and I tried not to watch as her member swayed gently from side to side, showing no signs of softening. Against her petite frame, it looked even bigger than it probably was.

A moment later, she was standing in front of me. I had to admit that if I didn't look down, I could almost feel the mood returning.

Almost.

"You really can't end this, can you?" She tilted her head quizzically. "You're stuck here."

I rolled my eyes. I really wasn't in the mood to have a philosophical question with a self-admitted figment of my imagination. She gently stroked my cheek with the back of her fingertips. They were warm and soft, and once again I swear I felt them as though they were real. Afraid and unsure, I reached out and took her hand in my own. It had substance and warmth.

"No," I admitted. "I can't seem to wake up."

She took me by the hand and led me back to the couch. I wasn't sure where it came from, but before long, she was smoking another cigarette and offered me one. I nodded. She lit it and handed it over. Sucking on the filter, I felt the arid smoke fill my lungs and relax me a little. It was a fantasy, so I simply flicked the ashes on the floor when I needed to.

"Has this ever happened before?" she asked, leaning in. Somehow she'd managed to situate herself so that she was sitting facing me, one leg on the ground in front of the couch, and the other wrapped inward, covering her erection. If she'd done it to make me more comfortable, I definitely appreciated it. To be honest, I wasn't sure what had kept me from just totally losing it and freaking out already.

"No," I finally answered, taking another drag. "Never." I knew full well that the real Natalie Portman had gone to Harvard to study psychology, and the irony of the situation wasn't lost on me.

"Maybe you haven't cum yet," she offered, trying to be helpful. "Maybe that's why you're still here." She cocked both eyebrows.

"I don't think that's it," I told her. "Something's really wrong here."

"Well," she said slowly, as though she were testing the water. "Maybe," she paused long enough to lift her left leg and rest the heel on my shoulder, bringing her new endowment back into full view, "there's a reason you're still here." She used her chin to gesture down toward the stranger between her legs. "Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something." Natalie stopped, allowing the awkward silence to hang in the air for a moment.

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "I think if I were a homo, I'd have figured it out a long time ago. I like pussy," I finished.

Her gaze drifted from my eyes, locked on the couch. "You know," she said, rubbing my shoulder with her heel, "Gay and straight aren't the only two available options here." When I didn't answer, she continued. "Maybe you're bi. You know, sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't." She wrinkled her nose and smiled at her own joke.

I was less amused. Seeing her in the light, her sizable prick on display, it was even more unnerving. "Look," she finally said firmly. She took my chin in her hand and pulled me in for a soft slow kiss. We remained together for a time before she pulled away, taking my breath with her. "You like me," she whispered, "right?"

"You're just a slutty version of an actress I wanna fuck. I'll never actually have her, so my mind created you instead," I said slowly, still trying to catch my breath and longing, despite myself, to kiss her again.

A smile of triumph crossed those lips I desired so. "Exactly," she said, "Your mind created me and last time I checked, you're pretty much in control here." Natalie leaned in closer. "Now I'm sitting here with a massive boner, and I'm pretty sure that's not my doing." Her voice was soft, her breath warm against my cheek, and her point was indisputable.

"I don't know," I said, with little conviction. I found that, despite my nervousness, the desire to fight this was quickly leaving. When I looked down, I realized I was playing with her breast. I pulled my hand away.

"Don't over think it then," she said, her left hand sliding down to rub my flaccid member. "Just start slowly. Touch it."

I hesitated. Her attention was slowly making me hard again. Looking down at her crotch, I could see the ridges and the veins on her member. I had to remind myself that this was supposed to be Natalie Portman. In every aspect, she resembled the actress and star of so many of my fantasies. There was just one difference. One really big difference.

Cautiously, as she leaned in and began to nibble gently on my neck, I reached down. It took a moment or two to work up the courage, but finally I slid my fingertips against the warm hard flesh. I pulled back quickly when it flinched at my touch, and Natalie chuckled. Pulling her lips and teeth away from my neck, she looked me in the eye.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It won't bite." She smiled. "I might though."

Building my resolve, I touched it again. This time I didn't tear my hand away when it moved. I brushed my fingertips up and down the rough flesh of her tool. A small gasp escaped her lips every time her dick moved. I did this for what seemed like several minutes, watching and feeling it respond to me.

She was biting her lower lip now, that needy look in her eyes again. "Is that so bad?" she asked quietly, running her fingers slowly up the side of my face.

I just shook my head. It really hadn't been so bad, and I was starting to wonder what I'd been so afraid of. "Hold it," she whispered. Now both of her legs were up on the couch. The one was still resting over my shoulder. Her other leg was bent at the knee, her foot resting between my legs. She was rubbing her stiletto slowly up and down my hardening shaft.

Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my hand around her dick. It felt firm, warm, and a little sweaty. It began to squirm. I let the confusion I was feeling slide away. It's not like I was doing anything to her that I hadn't done to myself a hundred times. She smiled. "That feels great," she whispered. "I see why guys tend to think with their dicks."

"It only gets better," I said, before I'd thought about it. Though I hadn't meant it the way she took it, her eyebrows lifted and I could see the arousal in her eyes.

"Stroke it," Natalie whispered. "Stroke my dick for me."

I'd already gone this far. Besides, this was a fantasy right? At worst I was just giving myself the mental equivalent of a hand job. Where was the harm?

I started to jerk Natalie's cock. She arched her back, and tilted her head back. "Yeah," she said softly. "Mm, just like that." I kept my pace, sliding my hand slowly all the way down to the base, and back up to the purple tip, tightening my grip every so often. Her penis felt as real in my hand as mine did when I masturbated. It was more than a little unnerving. "Play with my balls," she moaned.

Her sack hung down below, resting on the couch cushion. How far was I willing to go here, I wondered, staring down at the wrinkled scrotum. They weren't huge, but they were certainly a good match for her dong. I touched them with my free hand. I squeezed one of her rocks softly, and elicited a moan. I was careful not to squeeze them too hard.

It dawned on me that, for some strange reason, I was sitting on my couch giving Natalie Portman a hand job while I played with her balls. So many things in that sentence were completely fucked up that I didn't even bother keeping count.

I quickened my pace, and her breathing sped up to match. I stopped when I reached the peak, and pressed my thumb down against head while I jerked the top couple of inches.

"That's great," she gasped. "Stroke that dick!"

Surprisingly I was kind of getting into it. I felt a little thrill every time her dick shifted in my hand, or every time she bucked her hips to meet me.

"You're good," she said between breath, tilting her head up so that she could look at me. I felt the warm dab of pre cum on my thumb, but I kept on going.

I started jacking her faster and faster, and her breaths became more and more ragged, her body starting to shake. I wasn't sure how I'd gone from unwilling and vehemently against this to actively enjoying it, but maybe there was something to what she had said. Maybe I was bisexual. It was certainly something to think about. My hand was moving up and down at a feverish pace now, but she didn't seem ready to explode just yet. My other hand was cupping her testicles, massaging them.

"You like that?" I asked her, grinning.

"Mm hmm," and a gentle nod of her head was the only response she could manage. I noticed I was completely hard now. I used the hand that had been groping her family jewels, and took hold of myself. I started masturbating furiously as I continued Natalie on her own journey toward orgasm.

I didn't know how far along she was, but I knew I wouldn't be long.

"Almost..." she took a deep breath, "Almost... there..." I started pumping her as quickly as I could. "Faster!" she commanded and I obeyed. I watched as her body began to convulse. Her hips were bucking furiously now matching my speed and motion. "Gonna... Gonna cum," she whispered, but it was almost lost in the sound of her gasps and ragged breaths.

When she finally erupted, it was like watching a fountain. A stream of warm sticky jizz shot into the air at least four or five inches and landed on my hand and wrist. For a moment she held her breath and cried out. I kept on stroking her dick until it stopped spurting. I don't know if it was just timing or the way her seed felt on my hand, but I came almost immediately after. I felt a rush as I exploded. Both of my hands were covered in cum now.

When I looked back up, she was sitting up a little and smiling seductively at me. "That was amazing," she said. Natalie immediately shifted onto her knees and leaned in to kiss me feverishly on the lips. She took my hands in her own, rubbing her palms against the cream we'd produced. When Natalie's lips left mine, she was grinning.

"So," she asked. "How does it feel to have just finished your first hand job?" she wiggled her eyebrows playfully and, before I could answer, she started cleaning my hands, taking each finger between those beautiful lips and licking them clean.

"Honestly," I said, coming down from the high, "I'm not sure." I could feel waves of electricity as she gently sucked on each finger.

A few moments later, she finished and there wasn't a trace of cum left. She must have swallowed it all. She came up so we were face to face again. "That's fair," she said, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my eyes. "You did a damn good job," she added, "for what it's worth."

I leaned in and kissed her again, slowly and gently. When I pulled my lips back, I glanced down between her legs. The dick was still there, but it was soft and spent now. She pushed me down onto my back, and crept down between my body and the back of the couch. Natalie was on her side, her bare breasts pressed against my side, her fingers lazily tracing circles around my nipple. I could feel little Natalie rubbing against my thigh, but it didn't bother me as much anymore.

"Thank you," I finally whispered. She smiled and nuzzled my cheek.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them she was gone. I was lying alone on my couch, hand resting on my exposed crotch and covered in my seed. Taking a deep breath, I reached over for some Kleenex to clean myself up. I wasn't sure what had just happened, or the why or how of it, but part of me was glad it had.

Of course, had I known what I know now; if I'd known what was still to come, I would have been scared shitless. Fortunately for me at the time, I didn't, so I was able to simply enjoy the moment. I tried not to think too much about it as I showered and got ready for bed. It was almost noon and I'd have to be up by eight thirty tonight to get ready for work.