I woke up briefly from the last dream, but went back into another dream quite similar. Jordan Supon and I are a couple, although he didn't appear in this dream. Laura Hubbard, one my best friends, is in the dream with me instead. We are roommates, and just like my last dream, we were living in a small dumpy apartment. It was considered in the upper side of the crackhead neighborhood. It was all that we could afford. Somehow, I was involved in the sex trade industry. (I must be watching too much MSNBC on this!). It's not like the normal sex trade where guy or girl purchases a delicate newly blossomed flower, or at the least one that is not wilted. It's where one sex trade company exchanges with another sex trade company, and their ripe "soldiers" are technically forced to have sexual encounters with each other. The idea is to insult the community, leave a mark that these companies were all powerful, and use these sex slaves as a game of profit and respect. Each member had to perform to their best and get judged by the opposite company, merely by what each sex slave says about the other. It could be your life if you didn't perform well. I don't know why I was involved, but I can only assume it was because of my earlier dream. I remember not wanting to be involved, and feeling disgusted for it - but I was still a complete novice, and was at this point too hungry for money to care.
While Laura and I were at home, Laura doing her toenails on the couch and I was in the bathroom getting ready for something, a big man barges into our apartment startling the both of us. "You are up. Let's go," the man calls out. He must be one of the guards or summoners for the company.
"What is this?" Laura demands.
I didn't even get out of the bathroom before I heard shuffling around. The guard grabs her unknowingly that she wasn't me. "You're coming with me. Don't you try and fight this . . . you all do and never win."
"Wait!" I shout across the room as I see Laura dragging her feet unwilling to leave the house. "I'm the one being summoned, not her."
"Summoned? What are you talking about?" Laura asks inquisitively. I gesture to her to be quiet. She has a heart of a lion and I love her for it, but this was not the time to be tough.
"I don't know what game you girls are playing," the guy says, "but now you both are coming with me. I don't know who I need and I'm not bringing the wrong person because one of you wanted to help out a poor friend. You're both coming!" With a swift move this guy was able to hold us both in each one of his arms. Laura was kicking and screaming. Of course I didn't want to go, but I knew what I was up against and the possible consequences that I didn't even put up a fight. It was like they broke me because I knew that wasn't normally my attitude toward things.
Next thing I knew we were at this house. It was a quaint Mediterranean-style house with a a tropical garden to relax in. A lady enters with cigarette in hand. It was none other than Lyla (from my previous dream!). The woman I was both envious over because of her being highly respected in our community, and despised because she was very good at manipulating almost anyone to do things they normally wouldn't. "Got two for the price of one? Nice." She looks Laura up and down sizing her up. "I'm sure we can break her in and find someone for her."
"Fuck you!" Laura yelps, the guard holds her back by her arms from getting at Lyla. The guard chuckles with admiration for Laura's gumption.
Lyla chuckles back, but for her own disturbed reasons. "Ah, we have a wild one. I know just the right person for you." There was a pause, and then she says, "Wildcat." The nickname she gave Laura. Laura takes a large swallow, nervous what Lyla meant, but kept her head high. Lyla walks out of the room, soon followed by the guard after he locks the door for no escape.
Laura and I stand in the middle of the room, bodies hunched over like inferior children who are awaiting to be told what to do next. "What's going on, Angela? Am I . . . are you . . . are you a prosti--", Laura asks, but doesn't finish her sentence before I abruptly answer with a 'no'. But she doesn't let up. "Because of you I'm going to be raped, ain't I?" I couldn't answer her. Laura's bottom lip quivers. I felt ashamed.
Minutes pass and we both were now seated on a love seat together looking out the window. I was daydreaming thinking how could I be doing this again and awaiting the inevitable. I assumed Laura was thinking how much she hates me for indirectly putting her in this situation.
Laura broke the silence. "I can do this!" Wiping away tears. "I can. I can do this. It's like anybody else, right?"
I could only stare at her as if it was okay for her to imagine it that way . . . whatever makes her more comfortable. I certainly understood. Laura, in my dream, had a reputation for being promiscuous, so she wanted to imagine it's like any other time she was having casual sex and not feel as used as this night will prove. Her coping mechanism is the same as mine. I could sympathize how she felt in that moment as I remembered how I had to use that same coping skill the very first time I needed to, and it's quite scary not knowing whether it will work or not, and if so, how long will she be able to cope?
It starts to become dusk out before we were graced by Lyla's appearance again. "You, in that room, " Lyla tells Laura and points to the room at the end of the short hallway. Laura walks hesitantly towards that room. I watch her walk towards that room. I'm feeling terrible about it, and just once I want her to see my face so she'd know. But she never looks back. "You're guy will be in there in a minute." Lyla looks at me now. "Welcome back, " smiling with a small lip curl and a tooth showing. "You're man is already in your room. This is your room." She gestures her arm to the first room to the right.
I enter the room. I'm only partly in. Door still open. Hall light shines through the room. Darkness. All I could see were silhouettes of shapes, and some of the corners of the walls. Laura had the bigger room, which was next to mine. The only reason I knew this was when we were coming up to the house I saw the sliding glass door from that room, which leads to the garden - and only large rooms have that! Mine was small in comparison when I could see the walls under the dark shadows.
These guys in the trade were bred to do such, otherwise they were considered worthless and put to death. The women on the other hand were treated fairer because they wanted the women to be delicate and sensual by nature, and overall be rated by their counterpart as such, as well as rated for how good they felt from within. If a women didn't get rated well, they didn't get paid, and likely wouldn't be chosen much at all to participate, furthering her to poorer conditions. Laura knew none of this! She just thought it was sex to please a man, maybe put on a little show for him and be done. Oh, now how I wish I could explain to her that it wasn't so, but she was gone behind close doors and walls.
I turn my head back and saw Lyla slowly closing my room door. For a brief second I saw a man walking past Lyla towards the room Laura is in. That's got to be him! And boy, did he look like an old brute! It looks like he came straight from the Viking Ages, old but ready to fight, or so it seems. Lyla shuts the door.
The window in front of me was boarded up. I can see a little moonlight shine through the few open spaces, but that's it. I don't say anything. I didn't want to grab attention to myself. But I knew eventually him and I would have to feel around the room for something to lean against for comfort, and it might be each other.
I'm facing to the left side of the room when I feel an arm grace my right side waist. Nothing said. He then intentionally graces the left side of my waist with his other arm, firmly grabbing his hand across my backside to bring me closer to him. This is it! It's about to happen. I have to expect the worst, as I should!
I put my hands out to know the body of my evening suitor. My hands straight out in front me lay flat against his abdomen - he was taller than me and shirtless! I knew he had pants on and wasn't completely naked because on my way to lifting up my hands to feel for him, one of my hands hit his belt buckle. From just the touch of his abdomen I could tell he was generally fit. He lowers his head down to the crease of my neck and starts to breathe gently inches away from my skin. It gave me a surprising rush and goosebumps raised all over my body. He lifts his left hand to my neck and with one passionate move of his finger, my shirt strap lies dangling down my arm - he begins to kiss my neck softly and slowly. This is not what I was expecting at all! Wasn't he suppose to ravage me, or else?
It was hard for me to admit since I have a fiance, but it felt really good to feel this man's touch. Perhaps it was because it's been a long time that my body was explored like that, or perhaps it is the taboo nature of the unknown thrill, or maybe because since most senses are limited in the dark, my other ones were heightened.
I maneuvered my hands upward against his chest and then down his arms. I hear a low groan escape his mouth as he lifts his head away from my neck. My hands were pulsating with heated pleasure. I felt excitement between my legs that I normally wouldn't want to happen in a situation like this, but it was different with this unnamed and no-faced man. I wasn't feeling pleasure because I was being pleased, but because I was pleasuring a man! That's got to mean something, I tell myself.
He finds my face with one hand and leans in with a kiss. His tongue gently caresses mine and the outer parts of my lips. I suckle on his bottom lip and we mutually separate to ponder in awe.
"Wow," I say out loud. He reciprocates with a "nice". I continue as I trace the silhouette outlining his head, "I don't know about you, but I hope it's the same for you, but that felt beyond amazing. Nothing I've ever felt before!" My biggest question to myself is if I should follow that feeling.
"It was definitely amazing. That's got to mean we have some sort of connection," he says. That's all I had to hear was that it meant something to him, to validate my own thinking as I thought the same. As soon as I heard him say that, I kissed him again . . . deeper. He grabs one of my legs and brings it to rest on his hip. We both stand together, closer physically and emotionally connected. Now all I could think about over and over again while in the darkness with him is that I hope he is good looking because everything else, like his kisses and hands, were good to me already.
We fumble together a short distance to the foot of the bed. Kissing each other's faces as if lovers meeting together again after years of separation. Kissing and fondling each body part because we yearned to feel apart of something good again - sex and love like it's suppose to be. I felt around for his belt and undid it. He pulls it quickly from the loops of his pants, and I start to unbutton them. I didn't get far before he stops me by grabbing me close again. He squeezes my ass and pulls my pelvis against his. I wrap my arms around his neck and we both simultaneously did what was innate to us - he lifts me up by my ass and I help by jumping up to wrap my legs around his torso. His pants drop unprovoked, and this excites him further as I feel his penis against one of my butt cheeks.
Things were heating up and we continue to huff and puff quietly between kisses. Suddenly a light knock on the door, and it was Lyla. "I don't hear anything in there. You know you can't leave until I do." At this point I didn't want to leave. I'll stay as quiet as I have to to enjoy this moment that will soon pass me by and may never get back. It was the best thing in a long time. We giggle softly, child-like, at Lyla's comment because she didn't know that I was actually with a man who wanted to take his time, care for my well-being and didn't follow their rules.
I scoot up to the head of the bed and he's over me reaching toward the boarded up window. He grabs a board, holds tight and grunts as he pulls. One frees, and light by the moon casts a blue-white hue inside the room. Just enough, like a candlelight from across the room. He gets down from the window and crawls back down onto me. Impatient I was waiting for him to look at me. I see him blink and he turns to look down at me. His eyes were beautiful! He was beautiful! I was no prize in comparison to him. Now I see in that dim light what I needed to see, and it all matched up perfectly! I was on cloud nine. "Oh my God, you are so gorgeous," I tell him. It had to make his day. He smiles large - his plump lips I couldn't stop staring at knowing I was just kissing them. We look at one another in the eyes and we just knew we had a spark there.
"It's so weird but so cool at the same time that we had to meet this way, don't know each other, and already have this strong connection," he says eyes wide open.
"Yeah", I agree. But then reality hit that I have a fiance, and worse, that we are going to be judged by our performance from our bosses. "We can't . . . well, you can't do it this way. They want to hear you hurt me." My face grows long. He rubs my face in comfort.
"I won't do that to you. I can't. I don't care what they say. We can always pretend until they think otherwise." This Chris Hemsworth (think the movie Thor) or Alexander Skarsgard (HBOs show True Blood) lookalike was right. How would they know?
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| Alexander Skarsgard |
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| Chris Hemsworth |
He lifts up my tank to massage one of my breasts while kissing the other one, gently nibbling on my nipple arousing it higher. He pulls his boxer briefs down and off and rests his body atop of mine again. Our breathing becomes heavy with excitement ready to enjoy the moment. I pray it will be enjoyable rather than a job, to which I was use to in this business. I feel his cock against my pubic bone. It throbs up and down and feels real nice. I just want him inside me. He thrives on the anticipation. He rocks his hips back and forth, his cock first massaging my pubic bone, then further down against my clit, then between my vagina lips where it rests.
"Oh yes!" I quiver. I feel my wetness engulf his penis, and I hear the wetness smack every time he moves against my lady lips. I cling onto his shoulders guiding myself closer to his manhood. With impeccable timing, I lift my bottom up for him, and he rocks just enough for his cock to plunge inside of me. The warmth was pleasant. He strokes his cock inside of me slowly and gently, he doesn't even go deep . . . yet. Three strokes in and my toes were already beginning to curl. He was feeling his hair stand on ends like little tiny prickles. "Are you kidding me," I ask referring to how good it was already feeling. He laughs. We couldn't stop looking into each others eyes. We were locked on.
As I was getting more into it, I hear muffling noises in the next room. Laura! My mind was taken away from the pleasure. "Yes. Mmm . . . mmm . . . yes, yes yes! Oh . . . oh . . . uh huh, yeah . . .," Laura was moaning in the next room. Him and I smile contently knowing everything is okay with my friend in the next room and continue to make love. Seconds later though, Laura's sounds of pleasure turns into squealing and blood-curdling screams. We stop dead in our tracks. I was worried, but what was I to do about it now, I thought? Sex doesn't always come easily in this type of industry, at least not in the way I was receiving it tonight. I was being a little selfish at the moment soaking up what I was getting that it was hard to shift away from it, especially after years of waiting for something like that.
I tried to get back into the sex I was having after the screaming had stopped, but the guy I was with wasn't focused on it. Still with is penis inside me, he asks, "Aren't you wanting to check on your friend?"
"I want to, but we are technically doing the same thing as her and that other dude are. What does she expect me to do? As far as she knows I'm going through the same shit and can't help her. So, please, let's just enjoy this moment."
He gets off of me, puts on his boxer briefs. He is not upset, but tells me I ought to console her. He also says he'll be right there waiting when I get back, but we both know as pawns of the slave world, we are there one minute and not the next, and our words have no guarantees as they are not our own.
I exit the room and go into Laura's. The lights were on in that room. The guy who was with her wasn't there. When the silence came through the walls, that must have been the time that he left. I didn't see her in the room. I look out from the sliding glass door and see her in the garden sitting in a low part of a tree, wrapped in a robe facing the other way all curled up. I walk up to her and she was not budging. I gave her the time she needed. Finally, she turns around, relaxes her legs and sips on coffee (apparently it was morning now). "He fucked me!" Laura pouts. "I thought I knew what that meant before now, but I didn't." She trembles with fear and anger. "He fucked me five times! Five times back to back. He hurt me five times!"
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