Dream Lover Ch. 02

(WARNING: This story is rated MATURE for adult content and explicit imagery. Keep this story and all other material like it out of the hands of children.)

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It has been more than a week since you were visited by your mysterious mirror-image...since you and she made love together. That incident has stayed in your mind every waking hour of the day...and somehow, each time you recall it, an involuntary wetness emerges between your legs. You can't explain it; you don't know why...it just is.

You have not mentioned anything of the strange visitor to your man—he would likely believe you were making it up, or worse, trying to come up with a fancy way of saying you were cheating on him. And the sheet you were on when she made love to you—you have tried washing it with every kind of disinfectant, but somehow the blue stain she left from your heated moment of passion has refused to be removed. You know that there is no logical or rational way you will be able to explain this stain to your man, so you have resorted to keeping this particular sheet locked up.

Ever since that night, you have found yourself constantly and carefully examining your own body. Up to now you haven't found any noteworthy differences in your physical appearance, nor have you noted any other significant changes from before. Since the mysterious woman ejaculated her fluid inside you when you made love, you've been expecting at least some form of change to come over you—but none has, and for that you are grateful.

Now...

It is nighttime once again—9:55 to be exact. Vaguely, you remember that this was the same time you had gone to bed when that stranger showed up. Now, though, you push it to the back of your mind, though you have certainly not forgotten the experience. After all, what are the chances she will come again?

Once again you are alone in your room, clad only in your nightgown. Moments ago, you had a long hot shower, to relax your nerves in preparation for sleep; the heat of the water on your bare skin in the bathroom is still radiating off of you as you climb in between your sheets. Today, your room was sprayed with strawberry scents; the fragrance lingers in the air as your head hits the pillow. The beautiful colors of the drapery combined with the paint on the walls and the redness of the carpet provide something of an illusion for your imagination: that you are resting yourself in a garden. The only flaw is, here you are Eve, but tonight you must sleep without Adam.

A delicious warmth fills your chest and stomach as you think of your lover. Since that tantalizing night when your mirror-image came to you, your lovemaking with your man has gotten far better than it had ever been before. The time you spend in each other's arms has become longer, slower, more teasing, more fulfilling. Perhaps, then, that incident with your other self was just your mind's way of expressing your desire for him, to feel him inside you, slowly taking you. Although that logical explanation doesn't give an account for the mysterious blue stains on your old bed-clothes...

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A peculiar scent hits your nostrils. Your nose twitching, you rouse yourself and sit up in bed. The scent is strange, but not unpleasant...almost like the smell of nature after the rain has fallen. Rubbing your eyes, you glance around—

Then suddenly your eyes fly fully open.

You are in your bed, but...somehow...you are no longer in your own room. All around you, there are flowers of many brilliant colors; underneath all of this, the grass shines a lustrous shade of green. To your disbelief, rays of sunshine shoot down on your body; not bright enough to be blinding, but warm enough to create a tingle on your skin.

"Am I dreaming?" you wonder to yourself. On impulse, you look at your wristwatch. 12:00. But you went to sleep only moments ago...have you overslept? And if that is the case, how on earth did you end up out here, in this paradise-like garden? Surely this has to be a dream!

Suddenly, at the foot of your bed, you notice something like a creeper vine growing on the bedpost. It is growing at a steady pace; with eyes filled with wonder, you watch as the vine covers your bed's entire frame. As you continue to watch, white and yellow roses bloom from the vines, some larger than others.

Right above your head, one particular white rose is growing on a longer-than average vine. It swings and shifts as though it has a mind of its own, hovering above your body the whole time. Its petals open a little; to your surprise, small drops of a clear gold fluid leak out and drip onto your face. The white rose's stem grows downward toward you, its petals brushing the fluid all over your face. You recognize the scent of this fluid: it is honey. Instinctively, you reach your fingers to your face and dip them into the honey; putting your fingers to your lips, you have to admit that this is by far the sweetest honey you have ever tasted in your life.

As you continue to taste the honey, the rose moves along the curves of your body—and you don't know how to explain it, but somehow, it seems that nature is acting as its own aphrodisiac for you. The sight of such a rich and beautiful blend of colors; the scent of the fresh vegetation; the smell of the honey, the feel of it on your skin, the taste of it in your mouth...it is all exciting to you.

You feel a soft, gentle nudge on your thighs. Looking down, you see that the white rose's stem has gotten much longer, long enough for the flower itself to have reached down your body. As you watch, the rose's petals open up again. For a moment you start thinking that it's going to deposit more honey on your body...

...but as the rose's petals open and its center is revealed, your eyes widen in astonishment. You have never seen any flower that was like THIS!

Growing from the center of the rose is a long shaft, cylindrical and gold in color. It is not explicitly penis-shaped, as your mirror-image's clit became when the two of you copulated, but it is very suggestive nonetheless. It's not very big, only about an inch and a half around, but it is quite long, about nine inches. There is, you notice, a small round hole at the very tip; from that hole honey is dripping in small, steady amounts.

The shaft nudges underneath the edge of your nightgown, probing your now hot and aching pussy. You blink, realizing what is about to happen; but by now your senses have been so touched by the power of nature, you can't tell whether you really want to resist or not. So, with only the slightest hesitation, you part your legs a little. That is all the rose needs; it thrusts forward immediately, burying its shaft into your moistening hole.

You suck your breath in between your teeth and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the rose's grown shaft slowly sliding in and out of you. Your hands unconsciously run up and down your body, squeezing your breasts and tracing outlines on your stomach, even as your hips thrust forward to meet the pushes of the rose's shaft. You can feel the rose's petals brushing against the insides of your thighs; in your mind's eye, you know what is happening: the flower is pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling, like a piston, working its shaft in and out of you...

Now your breath is coming out, in low moans that start from the throat and work their way out through your mouth. In and out, in and out, the thrusting continues; and as your moans become a little more vocal, you only barely note that the rose is working your pussy a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper, going further and further with every push...

Your hips are thrusting faster now; you desperately want to feel the shaft even deeper than ever inside of you. As if sensing your need, the rose pumps its shaft harder, giving slow, powerful thrusts into your body. Three...two...one...

And then you arch your back and cry out as the blissful wave of orgasm hits you. And even as you come, the rose's shaft continues to pump inside of you...and then you feel an immense heat coming from within your body, and that combined with the pleasurable feeling of your climax sends you even further over the edge. You let out a scream as your hips shoot upwards, as the rose buries its shaft all the way inside of your pussy.

Finally, after what seems like forever, your body calms down. You slump on the bed. The rose slowly pulls the shaft out of your pussy; a small spurt of honey squirts from the shaft's tip. A whole lot more honey leaks out of your hot pussy, mixed with your own body's fluids...

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BZZZZT! BZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT!

The buzzing noise of the alarm clock jolts you awake. You breathe heavily, even as you unconsciously reach over to disable the clock's alarm. You glance over at the time: 6:30.

Once again, it is morning. Glancing around, you see no sign of a beautiful garden...you are, once again, in your own bedroom. A glowing feeling passes over you, a feeling you can't really explain...you are relaxed, satisfied, and exhausted all at the same time. And in between your legs feels sticky.

You are immediately reminded of what happened the last time...has it happened again? Filled with suspense, you reach down between your thighs with one hand...and it feels sticky. Raising your hand to your nose, you take a sniff, and the smell is like that of—honey. You pull back the covers...and there, oozing out of your pussy, is indeed a golden-brown puddle with a sweet scent that you instantly realize is more than just your womanly reaction to sex.

Just what is happening to you...?

END