Dreams Ch. 01

Again the bizarre and foreign desire of wanting to see me/Melanie in such a predicament for real entered my mind. "What the hell," I thought, "this was as real as it got!"

Before I could contemplate my thoughts thought, Brad moved in front of me and looked up at his grinning face. "If you don't mind, would you clean me off?" he asked mischievously.

A wicked thought came through my head as I sat up smiling, "Certainly, though not in that position, my stomach is killing me," I grinned.

Moving forward, not bothering to fix my state of undress, I crouched down in front of him, giving the men watching us a complete view of my bare abused pussy and tits. The resulting cheer and applause was all I needed as I grabbed Brad's cock, removing his condom and putting him in my mouth.

Brad's cum was more bitter than Tim's, but I eagerly cleaned off his cock, staring him in the eye the whole time. When done I slowly moved back, his cock pulling my lips forward until he exited my mouth. I could imagine the sight, kneeling down in front of a guy taking his cock into her mouth. What she wouldn't give to have her dick in her mouth—wait, where did THAT thought come from I wondered in shock.

Giving the head of Brad's cock a last kiss I stood up, adjusting my dress back down my hips and over my breasts—to many a groan from those around me. Turning I smiled at the crowd, giving a small curtsey to their cheers, then gave Brad and Tim one final kiss, leaving them in the corner with their friends, making my way back to the table to my girlfriends.

The girls immediately barraged me with questions...

"Where the hell were you?"

"Are you alright?"

"We were worried about you?"

I calmed them all down, telling them I was alright, a big grin on my face.

"I know that look," Mary said, "You got fucked, and got fucked good. Don't tell me you did it AGAIN you slut," she laughed.

"So who was it?" Jennifer asked, "Tim or Brad?" her face eager for the dirty details.

"Yes and yes," I grinned.

"Holy fuck, you did them both?" Stephanie gasped. "Where the hell were—wait, is that why the guys dumped us? To go watch you get fucked by their buddies?"

I grinned as comprehension dawned on all their faces. "Holy shit!" Justine said, "You fucked them both in front of everybody? Good Lord girl, when we told you to loosen up, we didn't expect to be setting off an atomic bomb," she laughed.

The waitress came by with two pitchers of margaritas. "The rest of the night is on those guys' tabs," she said, pointing to Brad, Tim, and the others, gathered at the bar. "They said you girls deserve the best," she said. "And they tipped me well too, so don't you girls worry about it the rest of the night, I got you covered," she said as she took their other empty pitchers away.

As Justine poured the drinks, I was barraged with a thousand questions, telling them everything to their surprise, amusement, and exasperation.

"Damnit, I wanted to get laid tonight and have struck out completely, and your first night here you get it not once, not twice, but three times? Jesus Mel, you are definitely making up for lost time!" they laughed.

As the girls chatted—the primary topic being my reawakened libido—I looked around, seeing several appreciative glances from some of the men around us. I knew what a stripper or porn star felt, having my body so blatantly used in front of an audience. And yet, instead of being embarrassed, I was again turned on.

It was an odd feeling; in the past I would have never allowed anything like that to have happened. It was as if somebody had taken over my body, fueled by my lust and being used. It was an alien concept, but as the girls talked, it was one that kept returning to my thoughts.

We eventually decided to call it a night. Being Monday and having to go back to work tomorrow, we did not want to stay too late, some already lamenting the hangovers they would have in the morning.

By the time the cab dropped me off to my apartment—none of us driving knowing we were going to be drinking—I realized my body felt well used, still wondering what had come over her...

*********************

I woke up with a start, some infomercial on the television. Looking at the clock I saw it was almost midnight, realizing I had fallen asleep on the couch. And holy shit, that dream I had—dreaming of Melanie becoming a total slut in a bar. But it was more than that, as with my other dreams *I* had been Melanie, feeling everything as she was used by three—wow, three men.

Cool wetness between my legs got my attention as I realized I had cum in my dream. And holy shit, based upon the size of the wet spot, more than once.

I thought about how this was the most vivid of any of the dreams I had experienced as I stripped off my soiled sweats and boxers, going into the bathroom to wipe myself off. It was also the first dream I had dreamt through entirely, or at least remembered through. A sinking impression of things getting worse overcame me. What the hell was happening to me, and why was I having these dreams?

Why the hell was I dreaming about being a woman was at the top of my mind. I could understand dreaming about women I knew—many of them were hot and of course I would fantasize about them. But why was I them, instead of dreaming of just fucking them?

These thoughts and more were on my mind as I drifted to sleep, wondering if I needed to see a shrink before I truly lost my mind.

*********************

The next day started as any other uneventful day. I had no more dreams after waking up from my Melanie Dream, so at least got a full night's sleep.

Upon seeing Melanie later that day, I could not help but stare at her, my dream flashing back as I visualized her getting fucked. I had hell of an imagination I thought as I recalled my dream, thinking of that tight body being used.

Today she was wearing a tight beige t-shirt dress with spaghetti straps. The thin cotton material did nothing to hide her body as usual, and my thoughts kept straying to my dream, fantasizing what it would be like to be with her. In my dreams she was an insatiable vixen, but I knew reality fell far short from that.

Surprisingly, she walked right over to me, "Hi Tom, I just wanted to apologize again about running into you yesterday in the copy room," she said.

I stared at her in shock, realizing Melanie never talked to me—or any guy for that matter—directly without them first opening the conversation. I stuttered something along the lines of it being nothing, more at odds with her odd behavior than anything as she smiled at me.

"Well, how about I make it up sometime? Maybe over lunch or dinner sometime?" she smiled.

"Uh, sure, that'd be great," I replied as she turned and left, my mind in turmoil. Did she just ask me out or was she merely being kind. The thought bounced around in my head all morning. And why suddenly open a conversation with me? Life was just too weird.

I ate in the cafeteria again, oddly at the same table as before, deciding to get lost in my e-book again when I saw the girls walking out with their trays. A part of me was hoping they would sit near me again. And what do you know, true to human nature they chose the familiar, sitting down at the table next to mine.

I again nodded to them, Melanie opening greeting me as she sat down with her friends before turning to them and chatting with them. She seemed peculiar today, more open and laughing, more talkative. I wondered what happened to the meek girl of yesterday.

Pretending to read my Kindle, I ached to hear how short reality actually was compared to my dream when I almost spilled my drink as Jennifer's voice carried over, "Damn Mel, I still cannot believe you fucked three guys at the bar last night, particularly Brad and Tim!"