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The Psychology of Dreams 101 Episode 11

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to Part 11 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which Leah takes control of the dream.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 1, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 11 Dominating the Dream

The car dissolved around them. They were suddenly back in Dr. Clyde’s office, and it was Al’s cock she was sucking. Dr. Clyde watched from behind his desk. “So how long have you been having these dreams, Leah?” He asked, make some note on his legal pad.

She released Al’s cock with a pop of her lips, and he gave a soft curse of protest as she wiped her mouth and sat down next to him. “Only since I started taking Al’s Psychology of Dreams class. But not at the beginning. At the beginning, I couldn’t remember my dreams at all. Al told me to set an alarm and keep a journal and a pen on my bedside table.” Right on cue, her alarm went off, and she sprang up like a jack in the box in the middle of her own bed, fumbled for the dream journal and pen on her nightstand and began to write furiously. Dawn was just breaking when she finished the details of the dream uninterrupted. She was just beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, the whole thing had been nothing more than a dream, all the way back to her first meeting with Al after class, when she heard a soft moan and felt motion in the bed next to her.

“Did you get it all written down?” Dr. Clyde lay next to her naked, stroking his cock, as he craned his neck to read what she’d written, and her heart sunk, even as the man’s tugging and pulling of his cock aroused her.

“Where’s Al,” she asked laying the journal back on the nightstand.

“He’ll meet us in the dungeon,” Dr. Clyde reached out and gave her breasts a fondle as she settled back against the headboard, realizing with a start that she was naked too. “It’s time for his dream now.”

“But we haven’t finished mine.”

“After observing the two of you in the dream, I’ve developed a theory.”

“A theory?”

“I think that perhaps we won’t be able to finish your dream until we visit Al’s dreamscape. The two are somehow linked. We’ve established that fact already. Your dreams didn’t start until you began keeping a dream journal for Al’s class.”

“Okay, then what do I need to do?” she said, bracing herself for another long scenario in Dreamland.

“Put those on.” Dr. Clyde nodded to a pair of thigh-high black boots that looked way more scary than sexy with their trim of chain and dog collar spikes. Lying across the foot of the bed, where she was certain there had been nothing before was a black leather corset and a scary-looking leather flogger. She panicked. “I can’t wear those. I’m not a dominatrix.”

“You are in Al’s dream.” He gave a little shrug, as he stood to put on his usual dapper shirt and trousers. “Well someone is in Al’s dream, and he knows it’s a woman. It might as well be you since you’re the only woman in this dream.” He gave his tie a final tug into position, adjusted his collar and nodded the door. “Dungeon is in there.” And suddenly they were back in his office again, her dressed in the black leather corset and boots, flogger in hand. The good doctor nodded to a door to the left of the Cordovan sofa. When she balked, he nodded again. “Well, go on then. We don’t have all night.”

They did, actually, the did have all night, but that was something she’d rather not be reminded of. Being held captive in your own dream was turning out to be a nightmare within itself, she thought. She took a deep breath and pulled open the door. To her surprise it didn’t lead to a dark, kinky dungeon, but instead it lead right back to Al’s classroom.

Al, who had been pacing in front of the desk, turned to them, gave her a lookover that seemed more shell-shocked than aroused. She blushed. Then he glanced up at Dr. Clyde. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for ages.”

“No you haven’t,” Clyde said. “It just seems that way because you’re dreaming. Do you have it?”

“What do you mean, do I have it?” Al replied. “Why the hell would I have it? It doesn’t belong to me. I didn’t even know she was going to do … that, until she did. Besides how do you know it was Leah?”

“Dreams always provide you with everything you need.” The doctor moved behind the desk and pulled open the bottomless middle drawer from which he extracted a shiny black strap-on in a leather harness and handed it to Leah, holding it up by the harness as though it were a fish on the line.

Leah stepped back shaking her head. “I can’t put that on. I can’t …” she nodded at Al, who was already opening his fly. “I can’t … do him.”

“Of course you can, ”Clyde said. “We’re in Al’s dream now, Leah, darling, and if he dreams that you fuck his tender backside, then you’ll not only do just that, but you’ll enjoy it immensely, and so will he.”

Al nodded his agreement as he lowered his jeans and boxers over his hips and shoved them down around his knees. His cock looked pretty enthusiastic.

“Here, let me help you into that,” Dr. Clyde said as he hurried Leah into the strap-on and tightened the harness with efficiency that made her suspect he’d done this before.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said again, looking down at the shiny black dildo bobbing in front of her, and in spite of herself, she felt the clench and tremble of growing arousal. “I don’t think I can — ” Her words died in her throat with a little gasp as Al knelt in front of her, hands crossed behind his back as though they had been tied and, gaze locked on her, took the dildo deep into his mouth. The first awkward movement made his eyes water, made him choke and sputter, but when she tried to back away, Dr. Clyde moved up close behind her and gently stroked her hair. “Let him do this. Let him show you how to dominate him, then you’ll intuit what he needs, what you both need.” He guided her hand onto Al’s head, and she curled her fingers in his hair, easing him forward, urging him to take the dildo deeper, which he did willingly, enthusiastically. With only a little more battling to relax the gag reflex, to open deep to her, he found his rhythm, tears streaming from his efforts, saliva sheening his chin and, in his rhythm, the doctor lowered his hand to her hip and began to rock her forward and back until she got it, until she got the shove and thrust of the dildo, the urgent clench of gluteal muscles, the desperate push of the pubic bone. It was the rhythm of sex, the male rhythm of sex, the primal demand to penetrate, to dominate, to possess. She was lost in the archetypal power of its otherness, so different from her own sexuality – a power she did not, by nature possess, but took upon herself now as it was offered up to her, and into the press of heavy breathing and suckling and groaning, came the zip of a fly, and the heavy insistence of Dr. Clyde’s erection against her bare ass startled her out of the mental space where she’d been. As he worried her open with his fingers to make her ready, her anger rose.

“Did I give you permission to fuck me, Clyde?” She was startled to find that even her voice sounded different, deeper, more powerful.

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6a    “But I thought – ”

“I didn’t give you permission to think either. I dominate this dream, and you will do nothing without my orders, is that clear?”

“But I — ”

“Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” came the reply that sounded as unlike the arrogant, in control, Dr. Clyde as her own voice sounded like the shy reclusive Leah, and she felt a surge of power deep in her core.

“Good, then I want you to make Al ready for me.”

“Mistress?” Clyde’s face went crimson, and he glanced desperately at the door behind them.

“You heard me. I want you to make him ready for me. I want to fuck him, and I want him to be open for me when I do.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 10

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to Part 10 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which Leah and Al take a detour in dreamland.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 9, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

Chapter 10 Safeguards and Detours

“Are you serious? You can’t be serious.” Al’s face had lost all color, and he nearly dropped the coffee cup he’d been sipping from into his lap. “How could I possibly get Derrick’s dreams? How could that even happen?”

“You tell me. Until I met you and my dreams started going astray, I had no idea any of this shit was possible, or I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken your class. Anyway, you and Dr. Clyde enter dreams together,” she said before he could do more than look guilty at her wish that she hadn’t taken the class. “You were in Diana’s and you were certainly both on mine.”

“That was unexpected, and unintentional.”

“Maybe this is too, but it still doesn’t matter, does it? The message is clear enough either way, that someone needs to be punished. Do you feel you need to be punished? Does he feel you do?”

He set the cup down carefully on the Formica tabletop and wiped his hands unnecessarily on the napkin, clenching it tightly in his fist. “He … He did blame me, yes.” He swallowed hared as though the coffee hadn’t quite gone down. “He blamed me for Diana’s death, he blamed me for convincing him to leave her dream to begin with, but then I blamed myself too. But I knew I needed his help if we were ever to get her out.” He looked down at the mangled napkin he held in his hand. “We found out later that she was suicidal, as I said, and then … Well maybe that lessened his blaming me, but if anything it made his own guilt worse — that he didn’t know, I mean, that he didn’t see, and him her lover. She hid it well.” He added, “No one knew.”

“So after that, you lost your grant?” He flinched and gave a convulsive nod. She felt bad for him, for both of them, she really did, but at the moment, she felt worse for herself, and angry as hell that she’d been dragged into their fucked-up past. If her response was a bit calloused, she reckoned she could be forgiven under the circumstances. “And then what? You both went your separate ways?”

“Pretty much. I wanted nothing to do with him or with the bad memories the sight of him provoked. The feeling was more than mutual, I’m sure. We hadn’t spoken until I got in touch with him concerning your dreams.”

“Jesus,” she whispered. “Thank you so much for that.”

Before he could respond, the alarm on his phone went off and they both jumped as he fumbled to reset it.

“Well, here was all are then, so what can we do about it?” She asked.

He heaved a sigh and tore the napkin into shreds. “Punish him, I guess. If that’s what he wants, if that’s what he’s trying to guide us to do. I don’t know, maybe by going back into the dream and taking control, we can give him what he wants — what he need.” He looked up at her and forced a smile, “then maybe we’ll get the relief we need as well.”

“Sounds like a win-win to me. How do you suggest we do that?”

He glanced around the diner. “Well we can’t do it here.” He made a quick glance around the empty café in case someone might be listening in, then he leaned close over the table. “We probably should get a hotel room,” he spoke the words between barely parted lips as though he feared someone might think he was taking advantage, “l need to hypnotize us with some further suggestions, some suggestions that will keep us safe and it’s better to do that in a neutral situation.”

She wondered again if she was dreaming as he paid and they walked to his car. If this wasn’t a dream, under the circumstances, how could she be trusting this man to hypnotize her still further?

“Why didn’t you just do it to begin with – hypnotize us, I mean, then Dr. Clyde wouldn’t have been in the equation at f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aall.”

“It didn’t seem right to do it when my dream was part of the problem.”

“Could be that our going to Dr. Clyde was always a part of his plan to get punishment? Is it possible that even that was a part of the dream?”

“Christ, Leah! You have a devious mind.”

“But isn’t it possible?” She asked, as he turned the car into the parking lot at a nearby La Quinta and pulled up to reception.

“At this point anything is possible, I suppose. Wait here,” he said, “I’ll register us.” It was hard to tell in the dark if he was blushing or not, but making her wait in the car was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t comfortable checking them into a hotel together. She had a sneaking suspicion that the guy was a bit old fashioned at heart. But then again, maybe that was a part of the dream too.

“Hurry back,” she said, and she meant it. She didn’t like the idea of being left in the car alone with everything that was going on.

“I promise.” He opened the door, and paused, as though he’d forgotten something, then he turned to her and gave her what she figured was intended to be just a little peck on the lips for reassurance. At first contract, however, a heat wave of lust engulfed them, and she threw her arms around his neck and practically pulled him in on top of her, with him doing his best to accommodate. And then her alarm went off and they both jumped apart – her fumbling in her bag to find her phone, him cursing under his breath.

“I’ll hurry,” he gasped, as she shoved the reset device back in her bag and straightened her shirt.

“You do that.” And then he was gone, leaving her to squirm on he seat as unsatisfied as ever.

Perhaps she dozed. God, they both had to be pretty strung out by now, but the opening of the door startled her back to herself just as Dr. Clyde got into the drivers seat and buckled himself in, all the while glancing over his shoulder toward the hotel entrance.

“Quick, we don’t have much time if we want to get this dream back on course. Al’s just paying now. We’ve got to go.”

“Wait a minute, this is Al’s car. We can’t leave without Al. Hold on, is this a dream?” She reached for her phone.

“Of course it’s a dream, Leah.” The doctor glanced at her as he all but laid rubber getting out of the La Quinta parking lot. “It’s been a dream all along, no matter what Al is trying to tell you.”

“What the fuck,” she reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Stop the car! Stop the damned car right now.”

“Listen to me, Leah,” he said, more gently this time, but still not slowing the car, “you and Al told me you wanted to stay in the dream until it was resolved, until you both got punishes so you could have some relief from your … situation. I told you that unless there’s an emergency, you would stay in the dream.”

“But what about Al’s smoke alarm? What about my doorbell and our alarms?”

“What, haven’t you ever had the dream where the alarm goes off and you’re late, and then your back in bed and it goes off again, and then the doorbell rings and you can’t answer it? Well, this is just a variation on that dream, that’s all.

“But this is not the dream? This is not the dream at all. There’s nothing arousing about this dream and –”

“Isn’t there?” He nodded over to her and, to her surprise, she realized that she had her hand down the front of her open jeans and in her panties, two fingers hard at work.

She jerked free, but before she could look around for something to clean up with, the good Doctor scooped up her hand and licked her fingers with a hot tongue, slurping at them as though they were dessert, which made her moan and squirm against the seat.

“Dreams get derailed sometimes, Leah.” He settled her hand into his lap where she found his fly wide open and his cock at full attention. “Sometimes the route they take is way more circuitous that one would expect.”

“But what about Al?” As though it were no big deal, she settled into the stroke and squeeze and fondle of his cock with an occasional cup and kneed of his sac.

“Al’s yanking one off in front of the surprised desk clerk at the La Quinta right about now, hoping she’ll give him a hand. She won’t, of course, and when the alarm on his phone goes off, he’ll meet up with us.”

“How do I know I can believe you?”

“Oh you don’t. It’s a dream, Leah, and no one or nothing in a dream is to be trusted.”

“Then what Al said about Diana, that’s not true?”

She felt the flinch all the way down to his cock, which softened briefly to her touch. Then he caught his breath and replied, “oh that part was true, the basic facts anyway. The point of view, however, is always skewed by the teller.”

“What the hell does any of that have to do with my dream then?”

“Not a fucking clue, Leah. Not a fucking clue. That Al thought you look like Diana, well maybe that has something to do with it. I can see the resemblance, but then I’ve seen the resemblance in a thousand women since her death. Still, I have no idea how that fact could have possibly entered the realm of your unconscious, nor do I know what it means.” His cock hardened again in her hand. “That’s what we’re trying to find out, remember? In the meantime, would you mind?” He placed his hand at the back of her head exerting just enough pressure that, with the slight nod and glance down into his lap, there was no doubting what he wanted, and she discovered, a bit to her surprise that, no, she didn’t mind at all.Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_b

As she took him into her mouth, he offered a little hiss of breath and sighed. “Ah, that’s nice. That’s just what the doctor ordered. And now if you could turn just a little bit, just a tiny bit more. That’s a girl.” Against her better judgment, she undid her seatbelt, but after all this was just a dream, and squirmed until her bottom was up in the air, just barely hidden from public view by the dashboard, but then it was dark, and it was a dream. Dr. Clyde slid his hand down into the back of her jeans and into her panties working his way inside, wriggling fingers past her anus and over her perineum until he found the sweet spot, and she all but purred against his cock. He gave an animal growl in response. This hardly qualified as punishment. The thought was barely formed in her head before the doctor replied, “I’m not the one being punished, in spite of what Al may think, and anyway it’s a great way to pass the time until we meet up with Al again.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 9

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to Part 9 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which things turn darker still, and Leah’s dreams become harder and harder to navigate.

And yes! The fabulously talented Kev Blisse has worked his magic again with a great cover for The Psychology of Dreams! Thanks Kev! you’re the best!

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 8, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

A Reminder: Time got away from me this week, so please do remember that The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a work in progress, which means you are viewing the raw story before it’s polished up. That means in some cases it’s rawer in others. But it also means what you’re getting is as close to what’s coming out of my head as it’s possible to get — or as close as you really want to be anyway. 🙂 Enjoy the work as it unfolds.

 

Chapter 9 Whose Dream is Whose?

“But it was a dream, right?” Leah made no attempt to hide the desperation in her voice. “I mean they might have been in comas, but it was still only a dream.”

For a moment, Al didn’t speak, then he heaved a sigh that sounded like he bore the weight of the world. “Leah, do you have any idea the power dreams have? I mean if I — ”

“What happened,” she cut him off, swallowing back the sudden urge to scream. “Don’t lecture me. This is not your goddamned class. Just tell me what happened.”

“I got Derrick out by convincing him he could do Diana more good if we regrouped and tried to figure this out together. That was a mistake. She wouldn’t let us back in after that.”

“Jesus,” Leah whispered, feeling another wave of vertigo and lying back on the grass until things stopped spinning.

He lay down next to her. “We tried everything we knew – everything, but when it became clear we were helpless, we had to come clean. She was taken to the hospital. We lost our grant. Derrick barely avoided jail. I think he would have preferred to go to jail, actually. Living with the guilt, which was much worse. And the fact that the university let us off easy, covered everything off to protect its own ass didn’t help.” For a moment there was only the tinkling of the stream over the rocks and the whisper of a soft breeze in the fir trees. Leah might have been alone in the place lying there with her eyes clenched shut, wishing she would have never signed up for the damned class. Then Al took a deep breath and continued. “He blamed me for dragging him out of the dream and leaving Diana there. I blamed myself.”

“He shouldn’t have done it to begin with,”

“Hindsight is always better than foresight, isn’t it? Besides, he told me later she’d been hounding him about it for a long time. Diana was fascinated with the work we did. She’d even asked us once about that old wives tale, if a person falls from a high place in the dream world, if they don’t wake up before they hit the bottom, they’ll die. You know what I mean.”

“You think that’s what she was trying to find out?”

“We found out later she was … well she’d suffered from a psychotic break a year before we met her in grad school. She had stopped taking her meds, we found out. No, I think she knew exactly what she was doing, or at least what she was hoping to accomplish. You see, we always took detailed psychological and medical profiles of all of our subjects before we involved them in our work. They were all very carefully screened. But she … well she got to him and, frankly, he would have done anything for her. We both would have. We were both … well we both loved her.” He gave a tight jerk of a shrug. “She chose Derrick. I didn’t know they’d been sleeping together until that night.”

“It must have been a shock.”

He huffed out a jagged breath. “That’s an understatement. I was furious. My first response was to leave them there to be found out and just pretend I knew nothing about it. But it was as much my research as Derrick’s. Derrick was, well Derrick really didn’t need the money. He had an inheritance. I had nothing. I … had nothing.”

“What happened, Al? With Diana, I mean. Did she recover?” Even as she said it she knew the answer to the question with a knot of cold certainty low in her gut.

“She died.” His answer was blunt, unembellished.

In spite of the world spinning harder than ever she forced herself into a sitting position, “Fucking hell, Al, and you took me to this guy to sort out my little dream problem knowing what you knew, and you kept it from me.”

“Leah,” he sat up next to her and, when she tried to stand, but lost her balance, he guided her back down, putting her arm around her and settling her against his shoulder, her with her eyes clenched shut to stop the spinning. When she opened them again at last and took a deep breath, he was studying her. She could feel his intense gaze even in the darkness. “Leah, listen to me. I took you to Derrick because of your dreams, and most especially because of what was written in your dream journal the first time you dreamed about me. He quoted the words from her dream journal almost verbatim. “You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the way your lips turned up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done! Well done!”

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6a“You memorized what was in my dream journal?”

“I didn’t have to. I memorized almost the exact same thing five years ago when Derrick wrote it for Diana, whispered it over and over in her ear until his voice was hoarse, trying to get her to let him back in.”

“What?” Everything in her wanted to run away and even though there was really no place to go, she might have if he hadn’t held her arm in a firm grip. “How the hell can that be?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But when I saw what you’d written, I knew I had to get you to Derrick, if nothing else to find out if he was getting inside your dream somehow, but he swore to me he wasn’t, that he had no idea what was going on. I, well, I would have told you, but I needed to be sure. And if I’d been wrong it wouldn’t have made any difference and you wouldn’t have had to be dragged into this.”

“I see,” she said, not really seeing at all.

“If I’d been right, then you would have had to know the whole story at some point, though I was hoping it wouldn’t be like this. “

“So why do you think he’s doing this, Dr. Clyde, I mean. Why do you think he’d want to manipulate our dreams? If everything you say is true, then he’s not just some pervert getting his jollies from other people’s sexy dreams.” She was a little surprised at just how calm she felt. The urge to run away had dwindled and she felt removed from it all somehow, rather than totally dropped in the middle of someone’s worst nightmare to be used as their pawn for reasons she was totally unsure of, but hey, life was like that sometimes, wasn’t it, and Al had a hard-on. He’d gone to stroking her thigh with tight circular motions inching his way higher, ever inward as he stroked and, for the past couple of minutes, she’d been unconsciously easing her thighs apart to encourage him. She was as slippery as he was hard, she realized. How the hell could that be when he had just dropped such a bomb? She forced her attention back to his words.

“You look like her, Diana, I mean. Oh it’s not a startling resemblance, not like twins or anything, but something in your mannerisms, your coloring, the way you carry yourself, and dreams, well dreams see detail in a different way. I’m not sure Derrick even noticed the resemblance, but then he wasn’t the one in your dreams, was he?” He broke off and caught his breath, which she realized was coming in desperate little gasps. “You wanna fuck, Leah? Because I’m desperate here, and you doing that only makes matters worse.” He nodded to her chest.

She was surprised to find that she was fondling her breasts. She didn’t remember when she started, but with the discovery, she realized that her whole body tingled with desperate arousal, the same desperate arousal she’d felt when they’d gone to Dr. Clyde’s office in the dream. “Yes, I do wanna fuck, actually.” It did enter her mind as he undid her jeans and slid them down over her hips, as she returned the favor that there was absolutely nothing arousing the situation in which they found themselves, and yet she was horny as hell. He shoved up her blouse and nibbled on her nipples in turn. She’d not taken the time for a bra since he’d been distressed and anxious to get away from her house as though Dr. Clyde might be listening from the water pipes or something. Perhaps he was, for all she knew, but as Al shoved her jeans and panties off onto the grass, she didn’t care. As Al fingered her open and kneed her legs a part to make room for himself, she didn’t even care that he wasn’t using a condom.

It was the insistent ping, ping, ping of the alarm on her cell phone getting louder and louder that brought her back to herself with a little yelp and a jerk that nearly unseated her from the booth at Eddie’s diner. The alarm on her phone was drawing the disapproving stares of the lovers and the waitress, who stood over their table with her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Leah gasped.

As she fumbled in her bag for the offending device, Al jerked convulsively into wakefulness from his side of the booth and catapulted to a standing position beside the table with a none-to-subtle, “What the fu …” Color rose to his cheeks as he took in his surroundings and settled back into the booth just as Leah shut off the alarm, still apologizing to the waitress and her fellow diners.

“Is everything all right?” The waitress studied them over the rim of her tortoise shell glasses and nodded down to their breakfasts, which were still steaming. “For a second there, I thought you were dead.” She offered a little laugh that was just this side of being really nervous.

“Fine, everything’s fine,” Leah managed. “I’m so sorry. Studying for exams, you know? Pulled too many late nights with too much caffeine.”

The waitress forced a smile that said she didn’t believe that for one minute, but this was Eddie’s Diner. She probably had actually seen stranger things, though not likely tonight she hadn’t.

They both watched as she returned to the counter, then Leah leaned across her waffles and hissed at Al, “you said we weren’t dreaming. You said this was real.”

“This is real,” he picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers and nibbled at it suspiciously.

“Then what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” He shoved the rest of the meat in his mouth and spoke around it. “At some point we were pulled back into your dream.”

“It couldn’t have been my dream. I’ve never been to that campground. My parents never took me camping.”

“Do you really think that matters at this point?” He said, shoveling in a huge bite of eggs. Then he nodded to her plate. “Eat, Leah. Whatever the hell’s going on, visiting the dream world unexpectedly like we just did takes a lot of energy.” And he was right. She was starving.

For a moment, the feeding frenzy took priority and, as they ate, Leah noticed that her head was beginning to clear. “The alarm. It pulled us back, didn’t it? I set it for yesterday. I had a Skype session with a client in another time zone. For me it was the middle of the night. I guess I forgot to delete it.” She reached for her phone to delete the alarm.

“No wait, don’t delete it. Set another one for a half an hour. In fact set it to go off every half hour.” He pulled his phone out. “I’ll do the same, only at the fifteen minute mark of yours. That way even if we are pulled back into the dream, we’ll have a built-in safety every fifteen minutes. As you can see,” he nodded down to their half-empty plates, “we weren’t in the dream but a few minutes and yet it felt much longer. Time runs differently in the dream world.”

As they set the alarms, the lovers paid and made their exit, and there was no one else in the diner. It was too early for the breakfast crowd and too late for the bar crowd. Oh, there might still be the odd rendezvous or someone working really strange hours, even a student or two, but not at the moment, so Al took advantage of the quiet. “Excuse me,” he said to the waitress, as she filled their cups, “but I want to apologize for what just happened and ask,” he shifted nervously and glanced down at his plate, “well could you tell me, did we do anything really embarrassing?”

“Well you didn’t drool or snore if that’s what you mean. It’s just that for a minute there, I couldn’t wake you up. Scared me really. I thought maybe you were on something. Thought I’d have to call the cops, but I’ve seen you both in here before, so then I start thinking that something sinister is going on.” She offered an embarrassed shrug. “You wouldn’t believe some of the strange things that go on at Eddie’s on the graveyard shift,” she gave them a dramatic roll of her eyes, “but then the alarm went off and you both woke up, so I figure no harm no foul as long as you pay the bill and tip the waitress for her efforts.” She offered them a broad smile.

Al dug in his pocket. “Here, I’ll just take care of that now and give you a little peace of mind.” He handed her a wad of bills.

She glanced down at the money and smiled back at him. “Hon, you can sleep in my booth any time.” Then she left as two retired men came through the door and settled at the counter.

For another moment, they shoveled in the food and Leah was just reaching for her last sausage link when it hit her. “Al, you said that the message in my dream journal is the same message that Dr. Clyde used to try and get through to Diana.”

america-artist-art-paintings-prints-note-cards-by-howard-chandler-christy-nude-women-reading-approximate-original-size-18x16“That’s right, why?”

“Well, what about your message? What exactly did it say?”

He took a slow sip of his coffee and wiped his hands on his napkin, delay tactics, she thought, but at last he spoke. “You have to be punished. It’s the only way you’ll get any relief. Until you take what’s coming to you, there’s no real satisfaction, and no walking away. Stay in the dream.” It’s been recurring since Diana’s death, but then it all but stopped until I met you.”

The room felt suddenly ice cold and gooseflesh climbed Leah’s spine on little barbed feet. “Al, why would you get that message? That message sounds like it’s intended for Dr. Clyde. From Diana.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Part 7

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aWelcome to Part 7 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which Al tells all … or at least some of it.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 7!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 6, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 7 Deceit and Permeable Dreams

At Eddie’s All-Night Diner, the waitress took in their disheveled appearance with only a quirk of a smile, then she headed for the counter and the coffee pot. The first thing couples wanted when they came into Eddie’s in the middle of the night was coffee. Eddie’s had a reputation with lovers – both the starry-eyed first love kind and the not-here-with-the-spouse kind. If she only knew, Leah thought. But then again, the woman did have that seen it all look about her. Waitresses, if they’d been in the business very long – especially at Eddie’s – became Renaissance women, with a little knowledge about almost everything. No doubt that knowledge by osmosis and by the unavoidable bit eavesdropping involved at least some facts about BDSM and a good smattering of psychology as well.

They settled into a booth in the back, having barely spoken to each other on the drive over. Whatever was eating at Al had kept him zip-lipped until they were safely ensconced in the booth. Even then, he waited until the waitress brought coffee and left them to peruse the menus, all the while, he kept looking around like he was a crook expecting the police any minute.

“Al, what’s so important that you had to drag me out my bed at stupid o’clock?”

He sipped his coffee, burnt his tongue, then cursed.

“Al?” The knot that had been growing in her stomach since the ringing of the doorbell dragged her up from the dream world tightened.

He leaned over the table until their heads nearly touched across the Formica and spoke in a hurried whisper. “I Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bthink Derrick is manipulating your dreams.” He gave a quick glance over each shoulder to make sure no one overheard.

“Manipulating my dream?” Leah sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “How the hell can he manipulate my dream?”

“Shshs!” He hissed at her just as the waitress showed up, and they both offered her a forced smile. To Leah’s surprise, Al ordered the jumbo Lumberjack breakfast complete with extra eggs. Even more to her surprise, she ordered the Death by Chocolate Belgian Waffles with half a pig’s worth of sausage. Suddenly she felt like she could eat the whole menu. The waitress’ smile grew wider and wider as she wrote down their order. Lots of lovers came into Eddie’s ravenous after their night of passion. From the size of their order, she must have thought they’d just come from a right proper orgy. The clench low in Leah’s belly reminded her once again, that while the woman might not have been far off in her speculations, sadly no one had gotten any satisfaction at this particular orgy. And then it hit her. “Wait a minute. This isn’t part of the dream, is it?” she said as the waitress sauntered away.

“No, it isn’t. It’s real. Remember Derrick said that if someone rang the doorbell or if there was some emergency, the word he gave us wouldn’t work any longer. This is real.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he said with another glance around.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure! All right? I am. Really.”

“Well then … If you’re sure. It’s hard to tell anymore.’” With a shiver, she sipped her coffee then held her cup between her hands for the warmth, recalling what they’d been talking about before the urgent need to order enough breakfast for the whole neighborhood. “Now then, tell me how Dr. Clyde can be manipulating our dreams.”

“It’s pretty simple really – at least in theory. He creates a sort of door into your dream using the same basic hypnosis technique he used on us.”

She recalled them both being surprised when the good doctor told them he’d already hypnotized them and that the word was in place. She remembered nothing. He didn’t even tell them to relax or look into his eyes or anything like that. Just suddenly, he said they were done.

Al continued. “He links it to the word that keeps us under. As long as we’re sleeping soundly and we’re in a safe, undisturbed situation, he can come and go at will. I didn’t know he’d perfected the technique. We could only get it to work sporadically.” He looked down into his cup, and she thought she saw a shudder climb his spine. “The few dreams we were able to sneak in to through the back door were not ones very pleasant to be in, not like yours.”

“We?” She definitely felt the shudder crawl up her back. “What do you mean we?”

He shifted in his seat and rearranged his cutlery, holding her gaze. “You may have noticed that on the syllabus and on my class handouts, it says Instructor: Doctor Aldrich Foster. I worked with Derrick — post doctoral research on the permeability of dreams.”

“Permeability of dreams? You mean like…”

“I mean Like what Derrick is doing with us. He shows up in your dream and makes … suggestions.”

“Suggestions? Suggestions!?” The lovers at the table across from them glanced up from the raspberry chocolate truffle sundae they were sharing to see what the fuss was about, and Leah took a deep breath in an unsuccessful effort to calm herself, as the stomach knot tightened still further, then she spoke between barely parted lips. “He’s a fucking pervert, that’s what he is. How the hell can he be in my dreams unless I dream him? It was my damned dream? Wasn’t it?” her voice rose again, and this time the lovers shifted nervously and pretended not to hear.

Al shushed her and tried to grab her hand, but she pulled it away. “Listen to me, Leah. You have to listen to me, dark moon image_xl_6338206whether you like what I have to say or not. You need to understand.”

She glared and him and braced her feet against the floor in a useless attempt to keep from trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anger though she suspected it was a good mix of the two. “So enlighten me, Dr. Foster.”

She felt just a hint of satisfaction when he flinched at the use of his title, but he squared his shoulders and inhaled like he was about to go deep-sea diving without oxygen. “It was promising research – really promising. I mean we both thought it was possible, thought that maybe through hypnosis there might be a way to influence another person’s dreams, not just influence them, but actually enter the dream state with the subject. Believe me, Leah,” he raised his hand as though he feared her response, “Our plan was to help people. Think about it; a surgeon can cut away damaged tissue, go in and reconnect, bypass, heal a person by actually getting inside their body, finding what’s wrong, and making it better. But while psychologists and psychiatrists can diagnose and treat symptoms, we can never actually cut into the part that hurts, we can never actually see for ourselves what the problem is because the mind is not flesh and bone; it’s not muscle and sinew we can cut into or stitch back together. Think what an advance for medical science it would be – and advance for human health, if we could walk with a troubled person in their dream world and heal them from the inside. Like a surgeon for the mind.”

He leaned over the table closer to her, his eyes bright with conviction. “I mean imagine what it would mean if we could actually find a way in?” When she did nothing but stare at him, he continued. “Medical doctors have all sorts of tools at their disposal. They have X-rays, MRIs, CT scans, and while we can do brain scans, while we can look into the actual physiology of the brain, we have no way of doing the same with the mind, no way of understanding on a psychological level, anything beyond the outward symptoms and what the patient is willing to share with us. And what if the patient can’t tell us? What if the patient is so traumatized they can’t speak or what if they can’t even remember? All we have to go on is the obvious and what the patient or client tells us; and people lie, Leah, people are notorious liars – especially when it comes to their mental health.”

“So you thought you’d just shove right in and help yourself to my dreams, did you? Christ, Al, that’s sick!”

“No! Leah, no! It wasn’t like that. Honestly. We never attempted anything on anyone who didn’t completely understand the process, what we were doing and the risks, which were minimal. We were very careful to be sure of that. We never tried the dream permeation technique without our subjects’ total and complete consent. Or at least I didn’t.” Suddenly he was toying with his cutlery again, avoiding her gaze, and the knot in her stomach turned to ice.

They sat in silence as the waitress delivered their food and refilled their cups. The waffles didn’t look nearly as appetizing as they’d sounded a few minutes ago, and Leah physically fought the urge to run away. She was in this mess up to her ears. She had to know the whole story, and then she would kill Al. Surely the waitress would bring her a steak knife. After that, she’d kill Dr. fucking Clyde and tie him to his own goddamned desk bare ass in the air. But first, she had to know. “What happened?”

“She was a friend of Derrick’s.” the fine muscles along Al’s cheekbones twitched. “More than a friend, I suppose, though I didn’t know that at the time. They were drunk. He took her to the office and then the lab we shared, and when he told her what we were doing, she insisted that he try it on her. He couldn’t refuse. He always was a bit full of himself, Derrick.” He sat for a long moment as though he had suddenly been hypnotized, and maybe he had been by whatever memories were going through his head.

Leah watched him, hands clenched around the napkin in her lap, feeling a chill that didn’t come from the AC. She watched him and waited, and when the silence became almost worse than the knowing, she asked the question she was pretty sure she’d rather not know the answer to. “And then what happened?”IMG_5339

He looked up at her as though he’d only just remembered she was there. “I found them the next morning, asleep in one of the beds we used for our subjects.”

“Well you did say they were drunk.” Funny how the brain always grasps for the easy answer. That was it, of course it was! Had to be. They were drunk, and the project got cut because, well drunk and disorderly … drunk and disorderly what? Drunk and disorderly sleeping?

With an effort, he held her gaze, his hands now clenched in fists on either side of the jumbo Lumberjack breakfast getting cold on the plate. “Leah, they were in a coma.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Ch 6

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aIn Part 6 of The Psychology of Dreams, Leah and Al are saved by the smoke alarm. But saved from what?

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 6!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 5, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 6 Now what?

“So what do we do now,” Al said. “We can’t go on like this.” He glanced down at his overworked fly, and Leah nodded her frustrated agreement, standing as she was, with her trousers down over her hips and one blazing ass cheek exposed from her red panties.

“Well,” the good doctor rubbed his chin and glanced around the room. “We could continue here. We’re clearly still all in Leah’s dream,” He nodded to his desk top, “I suppose the location doesn’t matter – at least not unless we’re going to analyze the dream, but I hardly think we can even consider that while we’re in it.”

“I don’t care about analyzing it,” Leah said. “I just want to get it over with. Besides, your office is a lot nicer that Al’s classroom.”

As Doctor Clyde cleared off his desk, Leah noted, as she hurried her trousers and panties down over her hips, that she could see her reflection in the polished glow of the dark wood.

“I want to look at you,” Al said, helping her out of her clothes.

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020            Leah was about to ask the doctor to see if the mirror they’d been using might be in his desk, after all if they were still in her dream, everything they might need should be tucked away nicely. Certainly there was a lot more room for dream paraphernalia in his huge desk. The two men, however, had something else in mind, as they hurried her out of the rest of her clothes and, when she started to bend over the desk, now completely naked, it was Doctor Clyde who stopped her. “Not like that, not yet anyway,” he gave her breasts a grope and then together he and Al turned her until her back was to the desk. Al kneed her legs apart … wide apart, until she had to grab onto his arm to keep from losing her balance.

“Now this may sting just for a moment, but trust me, it’ll be worth a tiny bit of pain,” the doctor said.

Both men reached beneath her legs and lifted her in a seated two-person fireman carry so that they supported her beneath the knees and high on the ass, effectively forcing her to spread herself wide open as they settled her, girlie bits first, onto the cool shiny surface. At first there was a sharply inhaled breath, and then she forgot all about the pain in her bottom and gave a little sigh of surprise as she got it, she totally got it! Making a damp spot on the good doctor’s pristine desk was exactly what they had in mind. She spread her legs a little farther and gave a little wriggle and a moan — a moan which the men echoed as they waited expectantly. Then they lifted her off the desk and they all three turned anxiously to admire the print of her, splayed, swollen, and more than ready for some serious relief, but as the doctor led her to the other end of the desk, not wanting to disturb her artwork, and bent her over, as Al slipped his belt from its loops, still admiring her self-portrait on the desk, she remembered again that the punishment had to be completed before she got any relief.

She groaned. “All right, then, lets get on with it, shall we?” It came as a total surprise when Doctor Clyde fumbled out of his paisley tie and bound her hands behind her back. She was just about to panic, just about to tell him that she didn’t like being tied up when she suddenly realized that … actually she liked it just fine. If anything it made her even more aroused, a thing she would have thought well-on impossible at this stage of the game. A breathless groan from Al clued her in that he liked it too. Then he quickly added. “It’s your dream, Leah. Do you want to be bound?”

“Of course she does,” the doctor answered for her, “Can’t you tell by her breathing, by the way she squirms. If all else fails just give her a little feel.” He wriggled a thick finger up into her wetness, and she struggled not to groan. You’re the Dom, Al, you don’t ask, you pay attention to your sub’s body language. You are the one who gets to choose, besides,” he brought his finger away from her and popped it into his mouth as though it had just been in the cookie dough, “a little restraint can be such a turn on in these situations, and of course the dream symbolism … well I quiver to think. Now then,” he nodded to Al, “Time to tackle the rest of that luscious ass.”

Al took a deep breath, and Leah held hers and closed her eyes, her heart racing in anticipation, her brain doing what it could to mentally prepare her for the sting. The fucking doctor stopped the action again!

“Hold it! Hold it! If you do it like that, Al, you’re going to hurt her other butt cheek just as badly, and we’ll never get this punishment sorted.

“Well fuck, Derrick!” Al exploded. “How the hell am I supposed to know what to do? I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

Doctor Clyde took the belt from his clenched fist and half whispered in his ear, “not even in your dreams? Come on, Al, admit it, you’re a teacher, haven’t you ever wanted to spank a misbehaving student on her little bare bottom?” As he spoke, his free hand came to rest on Leah’s unmarred buttock, which he began to stroke and knead until she could no longer keep from grinding against the hard wood surface, easing her legs apart with each wriggle and shift as the doctor’s thumb came dangerously close to her back hole. She was just doing her best to raise her bottom, so his fingers would slide home where she really needed them when, with a motion so fast is was over almost before she could do more than give a little cry of shock — one in which Al joined her, the belt came down sharp and crisp, like the strike of a snake and, while the sting was still there, it translated almost immediately into something quite different than pain down deep in between her legs. “Oh … Oh!” came her almost involuntary response.

“Now there, you see, Al?” The doctor said. “Don’t come,” he addressed Leah, then turned his attention back to Al. “She’s close, Al, here feel,” He guided Al’s fingers down to the evidence, and Leah bit back a curse. “See, she’s close, but she’s being punished, remember?” He handed the belt back to Al and added, “don’t you come either. A Dom has to have even more self-control than he expects from his sub if the results are to be satisfactory, or so I’ve heard. Now then,” he rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “I think we’re making progress here, though it is a shame about the sandwich, I mean the one the three of us were about to make back in Al’s classroom, but that’s dreams for you, isn’t it?” Before he could do more than wave Al on, the next sharp thwak came expertly administered to the wounded left butt cheek, but just enough to the outside that the sting was exquisite way down deep where Al had not bothered to withdraw his stroking fingers.

“Oh that’s a nice touch, Al. Well done. Raise the steaks by making her hurt so good all over your fingers. You’re getting the hang of this now.” With that the good doctor unzipped his fly and pulled out his erection just as Al gave her right cheek another smack, then trailed the length of the belt down her spine and teasingly along the cleft of her ass, and she moaned.

Al gathered Leah’s hair into his fist like she was a horse and he was the rider, then he began a rhythmic smack, smack, 7401867966b49d9e25e799def0c09dae
smacking of her upper thighs in turn just enough to sting, just enough to stimulate, while he pulled her hair back just enough to make her arch up off the desk, just enough to lift her nipples off the desk while driving her pubic bone hard and tight against the wood. It was hypnotic, it might have even been meditative if she hadn’t needed to come so badly, if she hadn’t been clenching tight, holding herself right on the very edge, waiting for it … waiting for it … Waiting for what? How the hell would she know when her punishment was over and she could get on with it? Get on with what? Was there something that was supposed to happen after they’d both been punished? Certainly they’d assumed so and so did Dr. Clyde, but how could they know? This was only a dream, wasn’t it?

“And now I’m going to put her mouth to good use,” the doctor said, “Turn her head just a little bit this way, Al. It would be a shame to waste one nice wet hole just because the other one is being punished.”

The relentless ringing of her doorbell brought Leah up from a sound sleep in a startled jerk that landed her on the floor with a breath jarring kathunk and a yelp trailed by several breathless expletives. Who the hell would be ringing her doorbell at this hour? She drug herself to her feet and cinched her robe around her waist, all the while the doorbell kept brrring, brrring, brrringing. From beside her bed, she grabbed the baseball bat she always kept handy just in case and, with heart hammering, made her way on tiptoes through the darkened house to the front door. In her efforts to be quiet, she miscalculated the distance from the coffee table to her little toe, and there was no stifling the resulting yowl of pain well laced in foul language.

The doorbell went silent. “Leah?” Came the hissed voice from the other side.

“…Al? Is that you?”

“It’s me, yes.”

She hobbled to the door slid the deadbolt and opened to her bleary-looking instructor, who stood in complete dishabille. Bed head didn’t begin to describe his wild hair. His shirt was buttoned crooked and untucked from his jeans,
and he wore no socks. “Did I wake you? I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I was dreaming.” She nodded him in.Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_b

“I know. So was I. Listen, about that. I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” She looked down at her watch. “It was nearly three in the morning.”

“And thank heaven my smoke detector went off,” he said, then he waved a dismissive hand. “Oh it was nothing, just low battery, but it was enough to get me out of the dream and make me realize what’s happening. As soon as I figured it out, I knew I had to warn you or we’d be stuck in the dream unpunished and unsatisfied.”

 
© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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