Article 89813 of alt.sex.stories:
From: jsharpe@access.awinc.com (Caesar)
Subject: "Dream #5" (mF)
Date: 26 Oct 1995 23:01:11 GMT

[Caesar writes several fantasy tales by request from Samantha.

Samantha is the alias of another girlfriend(e-mail) - these are erotic
fantasies and attempts at romance, she _loved_ the stories.]

			       Dream #5
			       ========
				 by
			      Caesar(92)
		     (upon request from Samantha)

	I remember very little about the woman who rescued me and who
is responsible for my recovery. If not for her gentle and caring ways,
I would certainly be laying upon the rocks near Gibraltar, dead. I
honestly cannot say what she looked like, nor her age. The whole time
I was with her, I was feverish and mostly comatose. The battle, now
known as Trafalgar, was a nightmare that could be described as Hell.
Especially to those stuck on one of the gun decks of a first rate. I
shall never sleep peacefully again, the images of my friends screaming
out as the ship rocked with multiple cannon shot, both friend and foe,
coming and going. The ship I was proud to be a crewman of, lost more
men with the storm afterwards than the actual battle. I had lived
through Hell, to fight again with an impossible foe, the weather. Yet
that is a different tale.

	The first moment that I knew I was out of the cold water and
knife-like wind was a hazy and sickening encounter. It was also the
first, and only time, I saw my rescuer. Perhaps it was the warm fire,
or snugly blankets that encased my body, the smell of thick stew
cooking over the open fire, or the large flea ridden dog laying next
to my head sleeping. I have no recollection why, yet I opened my eyes
and saw a small warm room and the back of my matron. She was bent over
the table, cutting something unknown. She was a small woman, blond
hair which is a rarity in these waters. Wearing a loose skirt and
large blouse, yet I could still see she was young and in fine shape as
any man could hope for.

	The last previous recollection I have was trying to swim the
impossible current off the coast of Spain, before being dragged under.
And at that moment, I wanted to know what happened, where I was, and
who was the woman. I tried to sit up. Well, that was it. The room spun
dizzily, spots appeared before me, and I lost what little strength I
had had. The last thing I saw before passing out, yet again, was the
face of my rescuer as she spun surprised at the noise. I can still
remember the round pretty face, the wide surprised eyes, and the look
of concern she gave me before I was again gone.

	Don't recall how long it was before I sensed another
sensation, but I felt a warm wet rough cloth scrubbing by naked torso.
I could feel a cool draft upon my exposed skin, proof that the thick
blankets were pulled down to my knees. I was evidently naked. My
consciousness kept drawing me back into darkness, but the coarse cloth
pulled me back again and again. I had no strength, none to even talk.
The woman had strong warm hands, the cloth a rough contrast. I
returned from consciousness at one moment and noticed that a finger
was gently sliding along the length of my penis. Up and down, and even
in my condition it enlarged pleased with some kind of attention. I
must admit I was surprised that he had more strength than I. My
rescuer attempted to encircle me with her small hand but could not,
yet did grasp it enough to point me towards the ceiling. Unfortunately
that was when I again blacked out.

	I awoke a few more more times, but I only remember being sick,
her body holding me still as I puked my guts over the side of the
straw bed. I lived a dizzy black existence for an undetermined amount
of time.

	The hardness of my penis again awoke me. A strange sensation,
one every male learns to enjoy at a early age. There was a warm small
body in the bed with me, laying with her back to me. My male hardness
pressing into the crack of her bottom pushed her woolen nightdress
between those soft globes. She moved only slightly, causing my cock to
slide up the length of that soft enveloping crack before coming back
down. The lady continued thus, going very slowly, her breath slow and
even. She seemed asleep, yet I knew differently. I wished for the
strength to reach out and lift that rough nightgown up past her hips,
but could not. I fell asleep, my penis still hard.

	Again I was being washed, this time I laying upon my front. A
soapy slippery hand washed the crack of my bottom. A strange
sensation, one I had never experienced before. I was wet from
shoulders to mid thigh. She had saved my bottom for last. My rescuer
was indeed an interesting woman! She felt around my small hard anus,
trying to clean me or... ? Quickly she stopped and dried me off.

	There was several forced feedings, a broth was forced into my
mouth with a wooden spoon. Usually I regurgitate this back up, yet she
seemed to want my strength to increase. A man can only go for so long
without food.

	Her body slept next to mine, curled up to my side, her leg
thrown over mine, her head upon my chest. I knew immediately that she
wore the same rough gown. A small hand was rubbing the head of my hard
privates. She pressed her groin into my thigh again and again, her
breathing laboured. Though both of us were covered with the rough
blanket I could feel the warm blow of her breath. Her head was under
the blanket, just above my navel. I realized this woman was presented
with a disabled man, that she thought there would be no remembering of
what she did. Doubtful she knew I had moments of consciousness, as few
as they seemed to be to me. I could feel her heated moisture even
through that ugly gown. The darkness enveloped me yet again.

	Possibly I was getting better, I began to awake more often. I
had no strength, but knew of my surrounding even more. Especially when
I was touched or a loud noise awoke me. Evidently my lady washed me
once a day, her hands withholding nothing. She would fondle my shaft
to it full height every time, the last she even bent forward and her
lips kissed the head of my penis. That time was also the first I head
her voice, a soft gentle voice, she spoke a gutteral spanish. A
language I did not understand, yet I heard a few words that were
familiar to me, "lavar", "cama", and "obra".

	After that day when she kissed my cock. The lady began to
sleep with me wearing as much as me. Meaning nothing. I was fully
conscious when she again pressed her centre to my thigh, her hand
immediately grasping my hardness. The woman began to stimulate herself
as well as me. Yet this time, I could feel the hardness of her nipples
against my skin, the scratchy coarseness of her pubis, and the
moisture that part of her covered my thigh with. Night after night,
was spent thus. How many I have no idea.

	Yet one night, she sleep with me and clung fiercely to me, her
nails biting into my skin. The unknown lady cried upon me, of what I
have no idea. Perhaps her husband was a sailor, pressed as I had been
into service for his country. I didn't know, but knew she was a
lonely, perhaps even scared, woman.

	After feeding me one afternoon, she pulled my covers off me.
Thinking I was to get another bath this day, I anticipated what was to
follow. I was wrong. My rescuer immediately grasped my penis in her
small hand and began to squeeze it back to life. Of course it did,
very quickly. She immediately started to stroke it back and forth for
a long moment. I could hear her murmuring under her breath as she
unabashed stimulated me. She stopped. I was thankful, being sexually
stimulated often without a release can become very hard on the male
body. Yet when I felt a naked thigh next to my hip, then the other was
thrown over to the other side, I knew what was to follow and was very
pleased. My lady was kneeling above me, her hands upon my chest. I
could feel her bottom moving around, the head of my cock sliding back
and forth across her moist crack. With a brutal shove, she dropped
upon my lap and I realized she had seated herself around my organ. She
began a string of spanish obscenities as she moved delightfully upon
my lap. Already I can feel the moisture sliding down to my balls and
my lap. The sound of her hurried sex loud in the small room, the smell
intoxicating. She had wonderful control of her inner muscles and used
then wonderfully. The woman leaned forward and pressed her hardened
nipples to my inert lips, rubbing them back and forth across my face.
My release was almost simultaneous with the moment I moved my hand to
grab her calf next to my thigh. She gasped out in surprise both from
the life giving juices shooting deep into her and my rough hand
against her warm smooth skin. I blacked out just when the last spasm
rippled through my cock, and hers was beginning.

	I believe it was that night when she again took me. Climbing
over me, her body laying on mine. She quickly slid me into her wet
grotto, and pressed her legs together and began to enjoy me. Using her
hands next to my torso, she seemed almost male as she moved her hips
up and down. This time my release was simultaneous with hers. I fell
asleep with her laying upon my spent body.

	Was it the good care of my nurse, or was it the awakening of
my sexual urges that brought me back to life. I have no idea. Yet the
woman spent, I would guess, three days sampling what I had to offer.
Mostly it was with her above me, but once she lay with her back to me
at night as she moved be bottom back and forth against me. She must
feel delightful uninhibited as she did things ladies of these times
would not do. Like I felt her lips taste me, her tongue running up and
down the length of my shaft. Or using my hand to wiggle along the
length of her slit. Perhaps the scariest was when she pressed that
warm wet slit to my face, rubbing it up and down. Yet I could not
breath, and thankfully she spent very quickly.

	She soon realized I was conscious and that my strength was
returning. The lady stopped her playfulness. Evidently returning to a
puritan way. Her hand never touched my penis, even when she cleaned me
and my organ grew to great heights, her hand never even touch it. Only
once more did I discover her urges still applied. Noises awoke me, my
body was uncovered, and I could almost feel her breath upon my sex.
She was evidently stimulating herself while looking upon my manhood.
It only lasted a moment before she spent, barely long enough for me to
gain my full height.

	I awoke with the heat of the sun coming through the open
window. The storm was over. I could hear a male voice speaking with my
rescuer. I learned her name was Samantha, yet could not make out any
other of the foreign words. I was taken away without ceremony or
gentleness. Over a rocky hilly terrain I was taken in a cart to a
small town. In a few days a small sloop of war took me on and I awoke
fully on that vessel. I am a sailor, and will probably die such. When
the spray blows against my face, and the length of the voyage becomes
obvious, my mind returns to Samantha and her warm bed.

Caesar <jsharpe@access.awinc.com>