The Dream Crystal
Interlude
It couldn’t have been a fantasy; it was so real, so vivid. She could still feel his touch, his hands on her body, stroking, exploring. She’d never experienced anything so intense, so exciting. When she opened her eyes, he’d be there. And yet, she didn’t want to open her eyes, fearing that she’d see only the four walls of her own room—knowing it would be so, yet not wanting to believe it. She noticed a clammy sensation between her legs, the moistness chilly where it been so warm only moments before. She was naked, although only in the fantasy could she remember undressing.
At last, with a sigh, she rose from the couch and began to put on her clothes. Her body felt so languid, so drained. All of her energy had gone into responding to the imagery, the sensations of the journey. After a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to concentrate on a novel, she dragged herself to bed. In dreams she revisited the woodland scene, the lovemaking, the way she’d responded to his voice. She awoke in the middle of the night still trembling from her climax, the sheets moist with sweat and arousal. Within moments she drifted away, to pass the rest of the night in deep, untroubled slumber.
The next day was filled with energy and exuberance. Listening to the tape again that night was even more erotic and engaging, but this time she felt lively and vibrant after the tape had finished. “Oh god, this is so exciting, so intense,” she thought. Her erotic imagination was on overdrive now and even when not listening to the tape, her thoughts and senses were filled with hands, lips, caresses given and received, the joy of anticipation, and the joy of release. Unable to wait any longer, the following night found her embarking on the next journey.Interlude
It couldn’t have been a fantasy; it was so real, so vivid. She could still feel his touch, his hands on her body, stroking, exploring. She’d never experienced anything so intense, so exciting. When she opened her eyes, he’d be there. And yet, she didn’t want to open her eyes, fearing that she’d see only the four walls of her own room—knowing it would be so, yet not wanting to believe it. She noticed a clammy sensation between her legs, the moistness chilly where it been so warm only moments before. She was naked, although only in the fantasy could she remember undressing.
At last, with a sigh, she rose from the couch and began to put on her clothes. Her body felt so languid, so drained. All of her energy had gone into responding to the imagery, the sensations of the journey. After a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to concentrate on a novel, she dragged herself to bed. In dreams she revisited the woodland scene, the lovemaking, the way she’d responded to his voice. She awoke in the middle of the night still trembling from her climax, the sheets moist with sweat and arousal. Within moments she drifted away, to pass the rest of the night in deep, untroubled slumber.
The next day was filled with energy and exuberance. Listening to the tape again that night was even more erotic and engaging, but this time she felt lively and vibrant after the tape had finished. “Oh god, this is so exciting, so intense,” she thought. Her erotic imagination was on overdrive now and even when not listening to the tape, her thoughts and senses were filled with hands, lips, caresses given and received, the joy of anticipation, and the joy of release. Unable to wait any longer, the following night found her embarking on the next journey.