Is your fantasy partner secretive?

Is your fantasy partner secretive?

***

Laying on a towel in the back of a rusted out truck in a junkyard was not a position I had expected to be in again, which was how I knew this was a dream. I could hear my ‘friends’ speaking indistinctly just behind a sheet metal pile, gathered around an oil drum firepit someone made. I was staring up at the stars, fingers interlaced behind my head. I used to spend a lot of nights up in this junkyard, laying in the back of this truck, so why was I occupying this particular night?

Back at the fire pit, Zachary had his arm around Julia, Desmond had brought some bitch with an annoying laugh I didn’t know, Mike and Donna were making out, Jude was probably stoned out of his mind, and Rochelle had brought a few of her friends. I regretted showing them this place. This was the last night I ever came to what had been my little hideaway. Took me a while longer to ditch the shitty friends.

I heard footsteps approaching, but didn’t try to see who it was. There was a little sigh and the truck lurched as Charlie ungracefully clambered up the tailgate, sliding in right next to me and placing a soft pillow on my chest. Despite my frequent visits, I never thought to bring a pillow or even a blanket. I thought I had been clever when I tossed the ratty, rotting towel down in the truck bed.

I smiled, shaking my head and grabbing the pillow, sliding it under my head as Charlie did the same with his own pillow. I scooted over some to give him some room away from the side, but made sure we were still kinda touching. “You never joined me back here.” I said, not quite a question.

“No,” he laughed. “But I wished I had.” He cozied up next to me, laying on his side so he could watch me instead of the stars. “I grabbed some pillows from my trunk and stood just next to that mailbox over there trying to build up the courage to offer you one.”

I nodded, still staring up at the stars. I didn’t know any constellations. I just liked making up my own. “I never knew that.”

“Yeah, I had a lot of moments like this.” He admitted, staring at my face. He usually did that. Didn’t matter the view, he always seemed content to watch me watch things. It used to be creepy before I knew him, then it got cute, then it got sad, but right now it felt nice. It felt comfortable, natural. “Standing to the side and wondering, ‘how do I tell her? How do I tell her?’” I could feel his expression change and tilted my head somewhat to try and see his face in the moonlight.

He was young, presumably so was I. He squinted at me with a contemplative look, his forehead getting that one wrinkle that eventually creased his skin with age. “How do I tell you?” He whispered, folding his hands on his stomach.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Normally you’re the one giving me advice during these.” I mused, turning back to the stars. Dream Charlie was a peculiar thing. If I was smart, I probably would’ve looked more into Animus or whatever the fuck he said he was when I was awake. But he always seemed to know just how to present things I needed to hear. Sometimes it felt like we were together for hours, his hands roaming all my special places, affirming me. Sometimes I talked at him and he listened. Other times he did a little roleplay. Often our time together was brief and I couldn’t remember much except the feeling of comfort when I woke up.

But he never asked me questions unless they were rhetorical or trying to challenge me on something I said. Typically he’d be fingering me or kissing me by now, too, so I really didn’t know what the fuck was happening this time.

Charlie laughed too, readjusting his pillow. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“I just can’t believe you’d do something like this.” I said, rehashing my last conversation with Dream Charlie. “I mean, it just doesn’t seem like you.”

“Well, that’s kinda what I was going for, you know?” He said, propping his head up on his elbow. “Blindside you. Give you that feeling that something was off, but not quite willing to accept the crazy truth. Make you go through something similar to me.”

“Well yeah, but cheating is so in character for me. The only reason you took so long to find out was because you were in such denial, but it’s not like anybody was in disbelief when they heard I did it.” Charlie sunk back into his pillow. Since when does Dream Charlie pout? Oh, I get it. He’s letting me practice for the real Charlie. “Not saying I was right to do it. Obviously what I did to you and our relationship was really fucking bad. I only mean that nobody would ever believe me. It’s like telling people Mr. Rogers was poking holes in condoms.”

We sat quietly for a minute as I waited for my brain to come up with a suitable Charlie response. I could hear that obnoxious laugh over the muted crackle of the fire. I’d fucked probably sixty percent of the people around that fire. I’d dated just about all of them and had cheated on each of them and each of them had cheated on me.

“Well, mine’s supposed to have a happy ending.” Charlie offered. “That’s in character for me.”

“Oh, yeah, gee, thanks.” I quipped, hands resting on my belly.

Charlie sighed, finally looking up at the stars. He laid there for a moment, then a while. I kinda wished he’d joined me in the truck that night, too. “Do you think it’d have been better? If I had cheated instead of doing the pills?”

I groaned, shaking my head. “It’s your ****, dude. Why the fuck are you worried about how I feel about it?” I said. “You did not get the same consideration.”

He rolled back over, staring at my face again. “It’s in character.” He shrugged. I tried to make a show of frowning. It really is, though. My lips turned into an involuntary smile and I shook my head, trying to rid myself of it.

I managed to control most of it, settling with a small grin. I reconsidered his question, which helped remove the rest of the smile. Charlie made a lot of friends. He was always eager to help, willing to listen, and lacked the competitive spark to intimidate people. He volunteered at homeless shelters and soup kitchens, he helped strangers change their tires, he remembered birthdays and tried to make people feel special. Some of these friends had sisters or friends that were hot single women. Some of them were hot single women. But I never worried.

I never thought of Charlie as a sexual thing. He belonged to me, I loved him, and yes we had sex. But he treated me like a goddess and I started to believe it. Sex was more a love thing for Charlie than it was sex. He wasn’t super kinky, he just liked expressing his love. So I never once considered other women to be a threat because he was obsessed with me.

Until my coworker’s kid enrolled in his classes. Olivia. She spoke very highly of Charlie. And very often. While I fucked my secretary in hotel rooms, she would tell coworkers about all the amazing things Mr. Washington did for the kids. She praised his food drives, she complimented his parent emails, she talked about how much her son loved her english and theater classes. She talked about him with the kind of admiration he had for me. That was the only time I worried and I worried hard. That was when my affair got messy, malicious. I wanted to punish him for being good enough that I was competing with other women.

“No.” I shook my head, grabbing his hand. “This is way better. I’m not sure I’d get through something like that.”

He let out a relieved sigh. “Me neither.”

“Uh, you literally did get through something like that.”

“No, I mean doing the cheating.” He snuggled up to my shoulder, resting his cheek on it. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. He was such a dork. “I like this dream. It’s nicer than usual. Usually you’re a bit more… rapey for want of a better word.”

I scoffed, rubbing his hair with my hand. “Ugh, what-ever!” I laughed. “You’re the one who’s always all over me.” I did love the wet dreams, but this was nice, too. Like sitting in the eye of a hurricane. When I woke up, there’d be a fight. I may have accidentally stacked the deck of that argument in my favor by sitting on his jaw for an indeterminate amount of time, but still. We needed to have that talk.

“Hey,” I cleared my throat, not wanting to ruin the moment, but knowing that I needed practice. “When this dream ends, we’re gonna have a fight. And my words never come out right. Can I just try and organize my thoughts?”

Charlie nodded, squeezing my hand.

“I just don’t know what order I should do things.” I said, thinking it through. “I have news about my promotion next year, Dane letting me stay work from home, and the potential move to New York.” I started laying out the good news. “I have the video game I wanna play with you, but don’t really know how to bring that up.”

“Damn, this dream’s getting too good.”

I rolled my eyes, still thinking. “And I don’t know if I should talk about Mary at all.”

“Blech.”

“Even though I told her to fuck off and left her crying on the sidewalk.”

“Meh.”

“And then all of that needs to come either before or after I chew your ass out for the ‘Fetish Pills.’” I put air quotes around it. Charlie chuckled. “I gotta hand it to you, this was devious.”

“Yeah…”

“Granted, we are most certainly even, now.”

“Awesome. I do not like ****. Very relieved to be done with it.” He made prayer hands.

“But I still need to figure out how to tell you we need to try again.”

“What? No, there isn’t a try again.”

“No, see, I need to somehow break the news to you that I had some wine—“

“What!?”

“And I think it messed this baby up.”

“WHAT!?”

I lowered my brow, side-eying him. “Ok, dude, I need you to go back into Animal, or Animum or whatever the fuck mode, ok? I’m dreading this conversation enough, I don’t need you roleplaying him.”

“Ok, nope, don’t like this dream anymore.” He shook his head, starting to shift his body down the truck bed to try and get out. He couldn’t leave!

“Ugh, fine!” I grabbed his wrist, dragging his hand under my shirt to my breasts. “Do what you normally do, just give me some help here. This baby is no good. Wants me to eat metal and shit. But you made your point, I fucked with your career and our relationship, you’re gonna fuck with mine and add a kid since you haven’t been getting your inner dad out at school. After that we’re even. I’ve made peace with it.”

I paused, noticing that he wasn’t really doing any groping or kissing. Or telling me I was gorgeous or super right or anything. Why was he just staring at me? And not in the good way. “How do I convince him that we can’t have this baby, but we can get my IUD taken out, reverse his vasectomy, and try again for a kid who’s not all special—YES I KNOW I SOUND EVIL, THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME WITH! So stop looking at me like that and help me figure this out!”

“Honestly?” He said, pulling his hand out of my shirt. “I hope to God she does not say a word of that. Because if she somehow got pregnant after everything those pills did to us, then I need to report an alien to the government for using my wife as a brood mother.” He scooted down the truck bed, jumping out the back

I shot up, throwing my hands in the air. “Now I know you’re fucking with me!” I groaned, scootching myself down and running after him to catch up as he walked toward the fire. “You’re trying to psyche me out!” I pointed at him accusingly as he continued walking, trying to ignore me. “Ha! Aliens? Come on. We already know that they’re fertility pills.”

“Please leave me alone, Mommy.” He rolled his eyes, stepping over a stop sign. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“Mommy!? Oh, come on, he’s not gonna call me Mommy. I got him to do it the once. If you’re not gonna let me practice, the least you could do is finger blast me so I wake up feeling cozy like usual.”

“Nice try, Mommy! I’m already drowning in her pussy and drenched in her piss. I do not need to wake up horny and frustrated right before an argument.” He stopped, turning to face me just as we reached the sheet metal pile. “Where is the door out?”

“Door?”

“Yeah, you’re Mommy’s special girl. Do you wanna see your girlfriend?” I heard myself coo from the other side of the pile. What the fuck?

“Not funny.” Charlie rolled his eyes, flipping me the bird.

“Please let me kiss her! She’s so perfect! I love her.” Charlie grunted, voice also emanating from behind the sheet metal pile.

In sync, we both locked eyes. Even in the darkness I could see the distrust. Was he pulling one on me, right now? He had to be. Maybe he was doing that thing again? Like when he showed me our old apartment.

We both stepped around the corner, finding that all the people who were supposed to be around the fire were gone. There were only two people.

One of them was me—the older version—sitting in a latex camping chair. She wore a leather corset and shiny leggings, as well as tall heeled leather boots. Fuck, I look good in leather pants. Kneeling between her legs on a rolled up towel, completely naked, was the ever formless Dream Charlie.

Both their heads snapped to lock onto us—the version of me locked eyes with the Charlie next to me while the Charlie between her legs locked eyes with me. “Oh, uh, hi, my love.”

“Love Slut, replace him.” The Me barked at Charlie.

In an instant I was suddenly back to laying next to Charlie in the truck. I was naked and he was busying his hands with gently massaging all my aches away. “I don’t get why you showed me that shit.” I grunted, moving his hand to my clit, which he generously tapped.

“That was your husband’s Anima.”

“Anima! That’s the word I was looking for.”

“No, the word you were looking for was Animus. The Anima is the mind’s conceptually perfect feminine. The Animus is the mind’s conceptually perfect masculine.”

“Seems like I paid more attention to that boring psyche stuff than you thought.” I giggled, burying my face into his shoulder. I was glad to have him back. I really needed help.

“No you didn’t…” He kissed my cheek. “You just learned that.” He nibbled at my ear. I’d had sex many times in the back of this truck. This was the first time it felt romantic.

“But I thought you only knew what I know?”

“Yup. You don’t know much, right now. But something to do with fluid exchange—he’s getting more from you than you are from him.”

“You’re not making any sense Mr. Bridge-Between-Conscious-and-****.” I give him a tender, inviting kiss, which he reciprocated for a few seconds. After seeing that weird version of me, it was odd to be back with Animus Charlie’s formlessness. Even as his hands roamed me and tongue bathed me, it was more like kissing and cuddling the concept of Charlie. Sometimes he was a bit sharper of an image, though it was a fluid image. Other times, like now, he just was. His existence was both certain and undefined. I could recognize him more like an emotion.

“Okay, so, Mommy was just establishing a link with me.”

“That dominatrix me?” I asked. She was very well defined. Almost more well defined than my memory of the junkyard. As if she was more real than even my own self.

“Mommy, yes.” Animus Charlie corrected me. “There’s chemicals inside you that are doing something to you. There’s chemicals inside of him that are doing something to him. Twelve hours of oral sex later, a lot of your chemicals are inside him doing something, some of his are inside of you doing… something—sorry, she’s really pretty and very commanding. She didn’t tell me much.”

“I’m not following. Link?”

“Right now, with your gorgeous pussy in his mouth, your subconscious brains can talk to each other because of the chemicals. Basically, I now have some knowledge from the real Charlie. Mommy was very picky about what got through, though. Mostly practical, useful information he’s tried to teach you that you never picked up.”

This dream was so fucking weird. “Can we talk about something important? I need to organize my thoughts before I wake up.”

“This is important, my love. Your subconscious mind is panicking right now.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Because it hasn’t reached you, yet, my darling light.”

“What?”

“Mommy fought really hard to keep it secret. She doesn’t want you to hurt her Love Slut. But he feels too guilty to hide all of it.”

“Love Slut?” I laughed in disbelief. It was actually kinda hot. I was gonna start using that. Degrading and cute at the same time.

“The Fetish Pills.” He hesitated.

“What?” I urged him on.

“If I tell you, please promise you’ll let me see Mommy again.”

“What? You’re my brain. You can’t hide shit from me!”

“Sure I can. Poof! Repressed memory.”

“Fine, whatever.” This was just a dream, after all. Whatever I needed to say to get it to move forward.

“Like I said, I don’t know much. Mommy has much more control over this communication than me. But from what I understand, those pills are changing your body. Permanently. I know he feels really guilty about it. And he keeps thinking about someone named Jens who either did this to you or can undo it to you, it’s not very clear.”

“Okay, cool, whatever.”

“My love, she’s also trying to access a memory. The one you swore to take to the grave.”

Before I could process this, my environment suddenly shifted, making me nauseous. I hated this dream. Why couldn’t it just be gentle cuddling and orgasms like the other times? I was standing next to the oil drum firepit, staring at ‘Mommy’ me in her shiny camping chair. Even sitting down, she was as tall as me standing. Her muscles were defined, even without a flex.

And she wore a hungry, wicked expression. A pierced tongue ran across her lips as she looked me up and down. “I love you.” She laughed. “I mean, setting a random alarm and telling her to lick until it went off is devious.” She leaned forward, getting her face close to mine. “I loved the trick. Set the alarm for ten minutes, give her hope…” She slid a hand to the waist of her leather pants. “And then sleep right through it.”

She threw something into the fire and it started showing something. Looking into the barrel, I could see my own ass lightly bouncing in front of a nose. I could hear a muffled whimpering. And I could hear my alarm. Ringing away just out of sight on the kitchen counter.

Shit, guess it’s time to wake up. I thought, the world around me getting stretched. But all at once it collapsed back down as Mommy’s hand wrapped around my wrist. Looking down was odd, as her hand seemed so real. More real than me. There were no abstractions. No shortcuts. She was a definitive entity.

“Oh, don’t bother.” She giggled, the alarm stopping. “Your phone died. The alarm’s been quiet for almost eleven hours. But my little Love Slut kept going, licking and kissing her pretty little girlfriend. Making her quiver, making her squirt… oh and chugging all that milk—it’s a good thing you fell asleep riding the best urinal in the world.”

Fuck! Was this my brain’s way of telling me I pissed the bed? How could I guilt Charlie for baby trapping me right after pissing in his face? “Shit, can you please let me wake up? I have an argument to have and apparently a couch to replace.”

Mommy clicked her tongue, standing up, but still keeping a tight grip on my wrist. “Not yet.” She took long, commanding strides forwards, which I clumsily had to jog along with. “My Love Slut is just obsessed with you.” She said as we walked through an archway of palettes, suddenly putting us in the hallway of—

“Is this our middle school?”

Mommy shushed me, still smiling. “I wonder if you remember this?” She chuckled, pushing the door open to the cafeteria, the noise of screaming kids overpowering the senses. Mommy snapped her fingers and it sounded as if they had all been encased in glass, muffling but not muting their noises. She brought us over to a table, pointing out a little boy in dirty, ill fitting clothes. He was holding two trays of food and walking next to another little boy in a wheelchair who was still getting the hang of rolling each wheel at the same time to move forward. The boy with the trays was Charlie—oh, my God he was tiny—and he was excitedly talking to the kid in the chair as they slowly made their way around the crowded cafeteria.

A bigger kid furiously typing a message out on a flip phone grumbled as he got stuck behind little Charlie and his friend in the wheelchair. Impatiently, the bigger kid grabbed one of the back handles of the wheelchair and pushed it hard, sending the chair right into Charlie. He dropped the trays of food and his body flipped the chair on its side, the kid in the chair screaming in surprise.

“Fuck, you two are slow in every sense of the word…” The bigger kid scoffed, squeezing past them.

Suddenly it was all muted and silent. A single hand from the table behind him reached out and grabbed the loop of his backpack. The girl was a bit taller than the others, her fingernails covered in chipped black nail polish. Her hair was fried and dyed black, too, and she wore a t-shirt for a band that made whiney, angsty music she thought only she understood.

She braced herself on the bench and then ripped backwards, sending the bigger kid’s feet into the air as his bag pulled him backwards. His tray launched into the air, spilling the packaged food as Charlie frantically tried to use his little arms to get the wheelchair upright. The bigger kid got the wind knocked out of him as his back slammed into the floor, the girl twisting around on the bench to look down at him.

“Literally kill yourself, retard.” I cringed so hard as the words left the girl’s mouth.

My head shot to look up at Mommy “I was, like, twelve! Come on!” Mommy just smiled, eyes locked on to the scene. “It was two-thousand-two! Everyone was saying it!”

“You were thirteen. Now see that?” Mommy pointed my attention back at the scene. Charlie was staring at the girl as she turned back around and went back to her meal. “That was the moment.”

I had opened my mouth to demand clarification, still feeling defensive about my past self. But seeing the look on the kid’s face as he scrambled to pick up all three trays of food and even helped the big kid to his feet, it was clear. “Gosh darnit, I’m sure it was an accident.” Charlie smiled up at the big kid, handing him back his reassembled tray of food. And then he went right back to staring at the girl.

“That?”

Mommy nodded. “You were violent, you were vulgar, you were unashamed—you were every suppressed urge my Babygirl ever had.” She smiled, walking me away from the cafeteria and towards a door labeled McDowell’s. I hadn’t heard the name of that place since college. Since Charlie brought me… home… “So, that was her moment. But she’s really scared right now. And I think it would do her some real good if she could see your moment.”

She stopped at the door, smiling down at me expectantly. My stomach dropped as I looked at the door. “Come on.” She encouraged. “Your ‘Dream Charlie’ as you call him put a lock on this one for some reason. So only you can open it.”

I stared at the door knob. This was just a dream, right? I was just in my own brain, alone, having a weird little dream. But what if… well, playing by the rules of this dream, whatever I showed, Charlie saw. And I didn’t want to show Charlie this. “No, this one’s, uh, special.”

Mommy’s look hardened somewhat. “She’s given herself to you. You’re literally gaining control of some of her bodily functions as we speak. There’s not a corner of her mind she would deny you if you asked.”

I did not understand most of what she was saying, but I knew she really wanted into this room. Did she even know what I was hiding in there? Did she know what she was asking me to do to him?

“I need to wake up.” I said, the cafeteria fading into darkness. But Mommy still held my wrist and kept her other hand on the door so that all of us remained.

“Open this door right now. After everything she’s done to keep you? After everything she’s sacrificed? You can’t show her the moment you cared?”

“He… he knows the story, he was there.” I tried pulling away. Charlie had a romantic, beautiful version of the story. One that was sweet and romantic and I was not going to ruin.

“You never did, did you? That’s why you won’t show me! You’re just using her you filthy fucking whore! You never loved her! I knew it! You just get off on making her cry!”

“No, I—“

“Well I hope you’re happy! She’s gonna be endless entertainment!”

“No—“

“Why can’t she leave you!?” She slammed her fist against the door, muscles rippling. “I keep telling her to leave you! What do I need to show her so she’ll see that you’re not worth it! You’re a selfish, emotionally stunted, child that can’t love anyone who doesn’t worship her but can’t respect anyone who doesn’t hold power over her!”

“Let me go!” I yanked my arm back, slipping slightly out of her grip, only for her to yank me even closer, fingers jamming up into my pussy in a quick, harsh motion. I howled in surprise, then moaned in pleasure as her powerful fingers locked on to my g-spot.

“I’ll let you go. But you don’t get to wake up satisfied and cozy this time. This time, you’ll have what she’s been getting.” She buried my face in her soft chest, suddenly putting me right at the brink of orgasm. And all at once the dream ended.

***

Charlie was stood, rocking in the kitchen to the sound of jazz music. It was weird how undefined everything was. Like the whole world was out of focus except for some key details. The leak in the roof, the creak of the floor, the fridge almost looked like it existed. The music wasn’t even a particular song, it wasn’t even really like he was listening to it, more like he was feeling the emotion of jazz music.

The presence behind him was the least defined out of everything. Its arms wrapped around his waist from behind felt like Tori. But whenever he looked at the being, it was more like experiencing than seeing. He recognized the body as the concept of a body. He recognized it as being beautiful. But he did not have any visualization.

“I guess Mommy wanted to talk with her.” The presence said with a voice he recognized as his.

“What are you?” He asked, not particularly alarmed. “Why don’t you… exist. Everything’s so out of focus.

“We call me Dream Charlie.” The presence answered. “I think my purpose is to make her feel loved and satisfied.” One of Dream Charlie’s hands slipped under regular Charlie’s pants, finger gently teasing his anus to begin the slow work of insertion. Despite every anal experience having been traumatizing, Charlie found this sensation safe and non-invasive. “Tori’s not a visualizer. Memories are a bit sharper, but our brain works more with conceptualization.”

Charlie sighed, heart sinking at the realization that he’d created this being within her. This was her version of a wet dream. “Oh, so it was you.” Dream Charlie cooed with a non-accusatory voice. “This is what the pills do?”

“Among other things.” Charlie answered, sighing with heartache.

“Shh, shh…” Dream Charlie tickled his scalp, slipping the first knuckle in. “You’re scared. She’s scared. But she’s willing to do it for you. She’ll have a kid for you if that’s what it takes to prove she loves you.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“That’s not the plan? Isn’t that what the pills do?”

“No! They’re fetish pills.”

“We thought that might be your fetish. We’ve always known you to be pretty vanilla.” Another knuckle sunk deeper, sensing Charlie’s displeasure with that statement. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. We’ve come to appreciate that about you. Sex is so much deeper for you. Less a shallow performance and more an expression of respect and admiration.”

“They’re not fertility pills. That would be way less bad.” He moaned as the third knuckle inserted, massaging the soft wall of his prostate.

“This is a great relief to us.” The other hand slipped down the front of his pants. The fingers ignored his twitching but still soft cock. They tenderly but decidedly pushed past his swollen testicles. The middle finger rested just between the lips of his new vagina. “Mommy uses feminine pronouns for you. We want to know if you consider yourself a girl, now.”

“Relief?”

“Fuck, this would have actually been a really sexy surprise if they were some sort of sex pill or something.” Tori’s panicked voice echoed around the apartment. “Please, Charlie, we want to know if you consider yourself a girl.” The voice returned, finger grazing but never entering, his new vagina.

“Y-yes.” His cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment, hands flattening on the counter. The finger dipped into the new sex, curling and straightening as the other hand made a similar motion on his prostate.

“You’re scared we won’t want you? But you’re our wife. We put our name on you. You belong to us.”

Charlie whimpered, legs shaking. “Good girl.” Dream Charlie cooed into her ear. “Good girl. Victoria’s getting scared and is going to wake up very soon. Mommy is not happy with her. My connection to conscious thought has just been severed, which means Tori won’t process any of what we just talked about until she opens back up to her subconscious.” A thumb gently slid and began tapping Charlie’s clit. “This usually happens when she’s panicking or upset or otherwise needs to feel in control. I’m sorry for what’s to come next, our love. Whatever she does, she does it because she doesn’t want to lose you. So just remember…”

The fingers began vibrating with just the right intensity. “You are hers.”

Charlie felt orgasm wash over him, moaning as the world darkened. He felt a pressure build all over his body, as if covered by a great weight. Much of this pressure began to focus on his jaw. His face felt sticky and warm. His pants were soaked in cum. The taste of her perfection grew strong on his tongue. The weight lifted off his chest, then all at once crashed down on his face, stopping his breath for a moment.

It lifted again, then fell back down harshly. His lips were **** left and right, his face following as the warm, powerful weight wagged side to side. “Wake up, damnit!”