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She awoke at midnight again, the way she had for the past three nights, the sheets twisted tightly into an umbilical cord binding her to the sweaty womb of her bed.

She disentangled herself from the tangled topsheet and laid back, closing her eyes. Immediately the dream from which she had awakened flashed into her consciousness: the utter darkness and the sudden, dim, slanting light; the stranger, the man she had seen and followed; the small anonymous room; the smell, the feel of him; the awful, all-consuming hunger.

She opened her eyes quickly, sat up and turned on the nightstand light to dispel the vision. No sense trying for sleep now, she thought. Why the dream had come, why it affected her, consumed her like this, she did not know; but for now it would not leave her.

She lit a cigarette, hoping to concentrate on that and occupy her mind, dispel the terrible demon that was the dream with the mundane, the ordinary. She sat back against the headboard, and without thinking closed her eyes tiredly.

Instantly the dream filled her vision again. A dark restaurant, club, bar, a place she had never been; a man she did not know — no, did not *want* to know; the small room, featureless apart from a bed against one wall, without blankets or frame or headboard; the feel of him against her, on top of her; feeling him between her legs, parting them, dividing her (divide and conquer, a part of her mind thought, unbidden), opening her….

She started suddenly, looking down. As of its own volition, her hand was caressing her bare thigh, grasping it, pulling her leg away from its mate…opening her….

She stubbed out the cigarette and jumped to her feet, her heart racing, pounding. This is ridiculous, she thought, pacing the floor. It’s a dream. *Only* a dream. I’m in control; it only affects me as much as I want it to.

Instantly upon thinking the phrase she stopped her pacing. The truth penetrated her mind: she *did* want it to affect her, to consume her. She wanted a reality to match the dream.

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August 6, 1990

What makes a person crazy? I mean, how do I know when I’m losing my mind? Maybe I’m just imagining things. Stress, yeah that’s it. Now, calm down Amanda and just try to be calm.

There it is again!

For God’s sake, why doesn’t it leave me alone?

I keep hearing this voice. It’s calling my name. I know, I know, how can such a simple thing scare me so much? Well, its weird! I can be working, or reading, and suddenly I hear, clear as a bell, “Amanda.” I turn, and there’s no one there. I’m alone in the house right now. My roomates are still at work – I came home early because of this stupid voice.

It’s been going on for nearly 3 months now. Since I graduated, in fact. It started out as maybe once or twice a week, now it’s up to several times a day. Out of nowhere, “Amanda.”

It’s a male voice. I know that much. So I’m hallucinating that a man is speaking to me. Maybe I’m desperate. I’m smiling as I write that, because, no, I’m not desperate. If I were desperate I would have agreed to go out with Shane last week. But no, I won’t date him. I’ve heard too much about his fast hands. Rob on the other hand is a possibility, but he’s not even noticed I’m anywhere around yet.

Okay, I’m calmer now, and I think I’ll be able to sleep. I’ll just turn out the light and sleep, and there won’t be any more strange voices to bother me.

August 17, 1990

It’s 4 AM and I just woke up from the strangest dream. The sheets are soaked with sweat and my hands are shaking so hard that this is hardly readable. I’ve never had a dream like that before in my life. I wish dreams weren’t so hazy. If I could only recall it clearly I think I might understand…

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I have been thinking much about Dianne lately. You see, she is a very beautiful single woman, very open sexually, and very caring for others (it is difficult for a man, and some women, to resist such a combination). I met her several months ago — of all places — in the waiting room of my dentist, where she shared with me her business (which is of no relevance to this story). My wife, Kristin, and I decided a few weeks later to join her business venture, and because of this association we have since developed a very close friendship with Dianne.

Kristin apparently has also of late been thinking a lot about Dianne. The signs are obvious — daily phone calls, visits to her apartment, her name being brought up in our conversation, etc. Last week, Dianne and Kristin went backpacking by themselves to the local wilderness area while I kept our two kids at home (it is important for my wife, a financial planner, to get away from the daily grind and enjoy her friends apart from me)….

Last Friday, Dianne called me up and wanted me to meet her for lunch at our favorite restaurant. After a light lunch with some equally light but strangely forced conversation, Dianne looked into my eyes with a look that I’ve never seen before, a look of fear combined with a look of desire, and asked, “Mark, it is difficult for me to say this, but I have fallen in love with both you and Kristin.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this. On the one hand, my sexual desire for her was burning bright, and I got excited about what was soon to transpire, yet her simultaneous love for my wife confused, scared, and intrigued me. What could I say? I looked at her for a moment, and without thinking I said, “Does Kristin know your feelings for her? As far as I know, Kristin is straight, and has never in our relationship stated anything to the contrary. All I know is that my desire for you is very strong, and that I have wanted for several weeks to make love to you.”

“I know about your feelings for me,” Dianne replied, “I could see it in your actions, in your words, and in your eyes. And my feelings for you are just as strong. Kristin knows about my love for her and for you, and she is in love with me as she is in love with you. It was during our backpacking trip that we expressed our love for one another.”

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I’m an 18-year-old female with long, wavy brown hair and a 36-24-35 figure. It takes a lot to turn me on, so I’m just friends with the guys in my neighborhood, but I like to dress in sexy outfits for the pleasure of their stares. A month ago, a new family moved in down the street, and I decided to welcome my new neighbors and get acquainted with them. They had a very attractive daughter my age named Kay, and it wasn’t long before we were good friends.

One day after Kay’s family had settled in, I went over to pick her up to go shopping. As I pulled into the driveway, I saw the most handsome guy imaginable shooting baskets. He was my height with long, black, spiked hair and an incredible body — all the more evident because he wore only a pair of jams. I was mesmerized by his beauty. Kay came out, and I eagerly asked her who the hunk was. “My brother,” she replied. “Isn’t he cute!” I soon found out that Kay’s parents had adopted Vin as a child. “Do you like him?” Kay asked.

“He’s hot!!” I replied with a big smile. We both walked up the driveway, and Kay introduced us. I looked Vin over from head to toe, and the sight of the sweat pouring down his body made my panties randy with excitement. I could tell that Vin was also impressed by my assets –accentuated by a white cotton halter top and tight black jogging shorts. Kay and I decided to shoot some hoops with Vin, and the three of us frolicked for a while. At one point, as I went in for a lay-up, Vin shocked me by accidentally grabbing my breast as I dribbled past him.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Foul!” Kay laughed. “I think we’ve all had enough,” she added.

As Kay led me to the house, I stared longingly at Vin. I hoped that he could see how aroused I was by his touch — my nipples were so hard that they could be seen through the fabric of my top. Once inside, we drank some iced tea, but it did not cool the lust I felt for Vin. Soon he came in, and we sat around talking for a long time, forgetting that I had come to go shopping with Kay. I flirted with Vin by deliberately sticking my chest out and curving my body toward him. When I caught him staring, I got embarrassed. I’m kind of awkward in these situations, and I hoped I wasn’t fouling up.

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Kate and Linda spent a quiet few weeks reliving their recent adventures. Nothing too exciting happened to either of them, since, in real life, sexual escapades tend to run in cycles. You have a great couple of weeks, then a few barren ones. Then things start to perk up again. Kate was looking forward to the upcoming Halloween holiday, she loved dressing up in sexy exotic costumes and wandering the neighborhood, watching the children run shrieking from house to house. She wondered if any of the neighbors realized that the woman dressed in the micro-skirt, tall stiletto heels and heavy makeup was their neighbor Kate. She even talked Linda into going out with her that evening. Kate’s husband was out of town on a business trip for several days, and Linda’s mate went across town to play poker with some buddies. Once again, the ladies who loved cum were on their own.

“Lin, I just know you’ll love this – it’s so much fun to walk around the neighborhood all dressed up and seeing people’s reactions to us. They’ll never know its us!”

“I hope you’re right, hon, if this gets around Roger’ll kill me!” her friend responded, only slightly humorously. The ladies spent the afternoon before Halloween night getting their hair and fingernails done, both of them luxuriating in the splendor of the salon they went to. Their every need was catered to as they sipped champagne and strawberries. Linda, on a dare, even had the young beauty parlor girl trim her pubic hair back, until just a small patch wove it’s way on top of her mound, and her pussy lips were completely bared. Linda allowed herself a mini-orgasm as the cute young girl carefully trimmed and shaved her sexual regions. The girl was not as embarrassed as Linda might have thought – as she finished, she leaned forward and gave Linda’s crotch a loving swipe with her tongue, pausing to diddle her clit just long enough to let Linda know that she was turned on herself. Linda picked up her head between her hands and kissed her warmly.

The ladies anxiously awaited nightfall. In their part of the country, the sun set quickly, and the night, though seasonally cool, was not at all unpleasant. Kate was wearing a very short, tight skirt that rode far up her thighs, a tiny cotton halter top, and high red heels with stockings. The tops of the stockings just barely hid beneath the hem of the skirt, and if Kate bent down or sat, a nice expanse of creamy thigh was exposed, under the sensuous red garter strap. She loved dressing like that. Linda wore short shorts that seemed painted on her trim buns, and spent several minutes trimming the crotch up until her panties almost peeked through the seams. A lacy, almost see-through blouse and a black lace bra completed the outfit. Linda purposely wore the dark bra under the white blouse, so that interested viewers could see exactly what she was so proud of. Her legs were bare, but she also wore heels, though not so high as Kate’s.

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