Dreamer and Doer (or, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy?)

Sometimes my dreams scare me. I don' think I dream like normal people. I've never had that "naked in front of your speech 101 class" dream, or the "falling from the sky, landing on a elephant." My dreams are always in color, of ordinary (usually), daily tasks and events. Lecturing on Mark Twain. A particular student coming to class on crutches. Another particular student receiving a scholarship. Rough sex with a coworker. Sometimes, these dreams come true within the following week, almost exact, to cause a nauseating feel of deja vu. The rough sex with the coworker did not come true, thankfully, nothing against the mind-blowing dream sex. He's a coach (yuck) and he dips tobacco (double, triple yuck). My dreams can be frightening because of their tendency to become true. Maybe, in some cases, they are self-fulfilling prophecies. Subconsciously, I act in the manner of my dream; thus, the Mark Twain lecture goes as seen. Yet, as tempting as it is to injure some students (in a thoroughly non-sexual, purely "you annoy the shit out of me" way), I cannot control injuries of others, accidents, scholarship committees.

My new year started out with one of those dreams. I already knew, before going to sleep, that I would meet up with T, his wife, other friends. I knew we would go to the movies. My dream ended with me bound, restrained, face down on a bed, my ass in the air, legs spread, T's mouth on me. That finale certainly wasn't on the menu for New Year's Day. I hadn't seen him in ten years. I was meeting his wife. I had not shaved my legs in a few days. I dismissed this dream, as I have many others. Especially after I overslept and missed the first movie.

I ended up meeting T, his wife, and about eight other people for lunch, after their movie ended. We had a great time, reminiscing, story-telling, laughing loudly, me flirting - sans ulterior motive - with those people I had known from college. Exhilarating. Fabulous. I was stating off the new year, not isolated at home, with only my cat or cloistered in with my parents, but with a group. A social group, young 30-somethings, some married, some not, most not yet having kids. The majority of my friends nowadays, it seems, have moved on to the family stage of life. While I love their children, and am delighted with the joy of their new families, I can't help but feel... left behind. So, I push my dream to the far corner of my mind, and relish in the good, non-sexual things to come in 2010.

After lunch, a few of us (four, exact), decide to catch a(nother) film. I was the only girl, and I ended up being seated between T and O. I tried be a good girl. I sat in my plush movie-theater seat, in the dark, between two amazingly charismatic men, both simmering with a silent, untold power. I was determined to behave. As I watched countless phallic symbols dance across the screen, and Robert Downey Jr cuffed naked to a bed, I found myself wishing I had worn a skirt. My mind wandered from the fascinating story on the screen to the captivating fantasy in my mind. In the dark, had I worn a skirt, T and O would be able to manipulate me, explore my damp darkness. I wouldn't be able to make a sound in a public theater. Public indecency charges are especially dangerous for teachers with morality clauses in their contracts. I made myself focus on the detectives on screen, despite the fact that my pussy was dripping with possibilities. When my hip accidentally brushed against O's leg (kinda hard not to squirm when you're horny), a shock went through my belly. When T decided to tease me, by scratching the underside of my arm, the inside of my elbow, the side of my breast with his nails, I was proud that I was still able to follow the symbolism of the film (all the while thinking "fuck me! use me! make me beg!").

Our party, replete with innocent intentions (I maintain that I had innocent intentions) ended up at T's home after the film. Through socializing, laughing, video games, my nipples (usually unresponsive) were hard little points, and my cunt continued to drip. At some point, people fell asleep. Vodka and shot glasses came out. I do not remember asking for a shot. Nonetheless, I was served, and the liquor was smooth, delicious, liberating. It was not my last shot. After all, I put my complete trust in T. I knew that he would protect my boundaries, and say "no" for me, should I become incapacitated.

In talking and drinking and flirting, five of us piled on a couch - boy, girl, boy, girl, boy. Never, in my wildest dreams, could I have imagined. This was not helping to diminish my arousal. Only pride was preventing me from begging. On my right, T, kissed me, teased the top of my ass crack as it peeked over jeans that had slipped too low. On my left, O traced the shell of my ear with his fingertip, bit the heel of my hand teasingly. I'm sure I gasped, moaned. The couple at the end of the couch watched us - when did I develop a thing for exhibitionism? They didn't join in, actually left, and went home to party as a duo. I have never been attracted to women, but I must say, looking back, she is beautiful. If T or O had ordered me to, I would have kissed. Hell... I would have gladly done their bidding. Still would, even now.

At one point, T held me, standing, my arms up, his hand firmly grasping my jaw, preventing me from looking down and hiding my face in shame, as O bit and sucked my nipples (still hard, now, as I write, two days later). I had trouble catching my breath - maybe from T's arm across my throat or maybe just from excitement. O's hand caught me between my thighs, the soaked denim giving away my shame, and he lifted me, by my pelvic bone, so he could nibble at my stomach and hip...

I remember being alone with O, later in the night, as he forced my legs open, slowly kissing up the inside of my leg from ankle to thigh, avoiding my ache, asking me if I had ever been dominated, promising that we could, and would have fun, promising not to leave marks - at least not where my student would see. His voice was so low, gentle, alluring.

Later, O's fingers inside my dripping cunt, his mouth - tongue, teeth - on my clit, T pinched and tugged at my nipples, pulled my hair, all while I struggled to stay quiet so we wouldn't wake anyone...

They teased me like this, stopping short of making me cum, and I relished every moment of it. Now, I wish they were both here, continuing that sweet torture, still, days later. I was not permitted to give O release. Pleasing him - he who was not part of my life just days ago - has become something I crave.

My evening ended with me face down on a bed. I was not bound with ropes or chains or cuffs. T held me in that position, my face pressed into the velvet pillows, with his hand firmly on the back of my head, his fingers wound tightly in my hair. His other hand held my ass up in the air, my legs spread apart, as his fingers stretched my pussy open, preparing for whatever he has planned in days to come. His mouth was on my clit, and he made me beg before I could come. Sometimes, he would remove his hand from the back of my head only to bring it crashing down on my ass. He praised me for the way my pussy clenched his fingers in anticipation of each sporadic slap. He said he could smell me, smell my desire all day, throughout the movie, through the games, the teasing. Even though he said the fragrance was awesome, my face burned with shame and mortification. Yet, my cunt dripped and trembled even more with this knowledge. His hand and mouth worked me, until, with his permission, I came. When was my last orgasm? I hardly remember one, and it was no where near as forceful.

I showed T my appreciation for this dream-like evening by sucking his cock, gagging over the girth of him, my hand squeezing the shaft tightly, tighter at his insistence, until he shot his approval into my mouth.

Maybe T will agree to let O teach me as well. After all, in the education world, the best teachers collaborate, observe, compare techniques. The idea of being discussed and manipulated (even, please, sir - used) without being permitted to talk or interact is incredibly erotic. Maybe, if I am a good girl, a good student, they will give me their cocks next time, fulfill my potential... I promise to do exactly as I am told.

I hope this year brings much more delicious teasing, humiliation, and maybe even tears (of shame, release, I am not sure) as I learn to cum like a good girl.