Message-ID: <7301eli$9803272152@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: hrichard@bellatlantic.net (Registered) Subject: ASS: "Dream A Little Dream" by Hawk Richards (M/F mast) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <351ccc31.2190101@news7.bellatlantic.net> You must be 18 years old to read this. This work is copyright to Hawk Richards, so you cannot sell, distribute or whatever unless you have my permission. You are allowed one personal copy for your own use. Of course, Eli's granted persmission to archive it at the ASSM archive. Author Notes: Note: This story is not guaranteed to produce an orgasm, but then again, it couldn't hurt. Second note: I'm not sure if I ever posted this story.... If you recognize it, then I guess I did. Third note: Send feedback or I will send a hundred militant nymphomaniacs to beat you up. Hmm, sounds like a story idea to me. "Once upon a time, there lived a neurotic writer named Hawk Richards. After saving a horny forest fairy, he was given a wish. The first thing he asked for was a 14 inch cock. With the wave of the fairy's magical wand, Hawk peeked down his britches, but nothing changed. "Where's my 14 inch penis?" he asked. "Right here, big boy," said the fairy. Fourth Note: The moral. Be careful of saving horny forest fairy's. You never know what you're gonna get. *************************************************************************** "Dream A Little Dream" (c) Hawk Richards "It was just a dream. Go back to sleep, ok?" I buried my head into the pillow, ignoring her babbling chatter about crazy nightmares. "Carl are you listening?" she asked. I tried to fake being asleep, but she just nudged me even harder, jamming her cold fingers into my ribs, until I gave up any hope for sleep. "It was so vivid!" she said. "It was like a huge vortex of colors. You know, like a TV in my head." "What was?" I groaned as I tried to act interested. "The dream." "What was it about?" I asked. "You were in it," she said. "Ok, so what was it about?" I asked, getting tired of playing twenty questions. "I can't really remember." She licked her lips and embraced me. "It was kinda sexual, though." The mood was catchy and I found myself aroused. I felt the soft swell of her breasts against my bare chest. My face was buried in her long red hair, the smell of her consumed me and I fought the urge to ravage her. "You wanna do it?" she asked. "Uh, ok," I said. As usual, I was confused by her strange behavior. It was only hours earlier that she had fought off my attempts at romance, feigning a headache. Sometimes, I think I know her. Then, she throws me for a loop. I think women do that just to keep us men from truly understanding them. It's like a rule or something. "Are you sleepy?" she asked as she stroked my chest gingerly with her fingertips and played with my chest hair. "I mean, I don't want to keep you 'up' or anything." She grasped my crotch in her loving hand. "Not anymore." "Are you hungry? We could have a midnight snack or something." "Not really," I said, noticing that it was well past midnight already. "Have you ever had a dream that was so intense that you...?" she asked. "That I what?" I asked in total confusion. I was perplexed. Even when I was totally awake, she could perplex me like no other person could with her vague questions and silly conversations, but maybe that was why I loved her. Even after two years, she was still a mystery to me on some levels. I like mysteries, and I love being a good sleuth, especially a sexual sleuth. I like to find out what excites her, what tantalizes her, and most of all what she needs, desires, and wants from me in the bedroom. And, I don't think she has ever really complained. "You know --" she said. "Oh," I said, as I finally realized what she meant. "Yes, when I was younger I used to have wet dreams, why?" "I think I had one," she said. "How could you have had a wet dream?" I asked. Remember that I wasn't quite awake yet, so I my brain was really slow to realize what she meant. "Women can have an orgasm while they dream silly! We don't always need a man -- duh!" she said. "Actually, if it wasn't for the fact that you had that silly thing between your legs, we wouldn't need you at all." She emphasized her words by cupping her own breasts, stroking the fabric of her negligee around her stiffened nipples that poked enticingly through the thin garment. I had never really witnessed a woman masturbating -- except maybe in a movie. I just sat there with my jaw gaping, my heart pounding and my loins straining the front of my boxers. "Actually, I don't need you at all," she said. This kinda shocked me a bit. Actually, I had never really thought about it before, but of course, she didn't need me -- men in general -- to have a "good time." It made complete sense, although, like any man I was self-centered, so I tended to think of myself as Mr. Orgasm Maker. "You don't need me at all, eh?" I asked in disbelief. "Nope." She grinned mischievously as she ran her hands, up and down, her thighs, parting her legs as she ran a her slender fingers over her glistening mound, softly rubbing the soft curly hair above her coral nether lips. "I see, well then I guess that I am replaceable?" I asked. "Hmm, no you're not replaceable, but you aren't needed." I watched in awe as her fingers found clitoris and she circled it, rubbed the tiny nubbin, and groaned a sexy moan with passion. Her middle finger slid between the soft folds, and dipped into her. I watched as the finger disappeared like a tiny cock as it went in and out. I could see the excitement in her movements and her need to climax. "Oh, I see," I said, pouting in a playful puppy dog manner that gets her every time. "Aww, my poor baby," she giggled and playfully extended her shiny finger to my lips. I could smell her musky scent, strong and feminine, as I kissed her hand. I sucked upon her finger, nibbling gently. She gave up on her masturbatory explorations and straddled me. She lifted her negligee off and presented me with two warm handfuls of soft, pillowy flesh. Each one was topped with a crinkled nipple of larger than average size. I suckled on one, while I cupped the other in my palm, kneading the dangling breast that jiggled and bounced with each movement. "You know, I don't really need a man to do this," she said. "Yes, but how about this," I said as I positioned my erect member at the entrance to her wetness. "Mmm, I dunno, I think they make replica's of those don't they?" "Yes, but they don't have the same skills." "Why don't you prove it?" she replied. She engulfed the entire shaft within her wet slit, and proceeded to grind her hips in rhythm with my upward thrusting. "Not bad," she said with a grin. "Not bad? Not bad?" I asked. We both started giggling, which caused the most exquisite sensations. Her breasts heaved with each breath, and a serious look came over her face. I had always loved the face she makes when she is just about to come. First her nose crinkles, and her eyes glaze over with pleasure, then she contorts her mouth into this pleasurable grimace. I wasn't that far from the point of no return, myself. "Oh god," she moaned. I held her tight, bucking my hips up into her as we came simultaneously. We were one animal moving together as our bodies gyrated, up and down, in orgasmic frenzy. "Now, what were you saying about not needing me?" "Well, you have your uses, I guess," she said. "Could you get me a glass of water?" (c) Hawk Richards __ Hawk Richards hawkrds@aol.com Hawk Richards' Storyboard members.aol.com/hawkrds -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |