Prison Dreamcaster

I returned my hand to the firm ass that bounced there, keeping time with her slowly bobbing head. I grabbed the thin line of elastic and rudely rammed it out of my way. Desire was obscuring clear thought and my pent up need had unleashed the animal. Somehow I managed to croak out a warning.

“Hmmfff?” Her lips never left my cock.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

My hand roughly sought the tender lips of her labia. I slid my fingertips into the wet mouth of her maidenhood, rapidly running from the hooded cover of her clitoris, over the small ridge protecting the base, to the tight pucker of her anus. Want drove me. I suspended my two middle fingers over her, and then drove them into her. She stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed as she accepted my attack. Her head picked up speed.

My right hand continued its wanton thrusting. My hips were beginning to gyrate, and I began to gently ride my pelvis back and forth against her waiting mouth. Her tongue was wrapping and encircling my girth.

The awkward position of my hand was causing my wrist to cramp, so I extracted my offending fingers. Continuing to greet her pumping face, I quickly shook my hand and feeling the soreness subside, brought it back to her. I massaged the great muscle, kneading my thumb into the nerve cluster near the back of her hip. My middle finger sought her anus. I pressed the tip against the dark brown iris and began to flick my finger in small, tight circles. With every couple of rotations, I pressed a little harder, a little deeper.

Her suckling was becoming more audible with each tiny thrust of my finger. With one final thrust of passion enflamed courage I drove my finger to the hilt. The tight circle of her sphincter and the lush, thick heat of her anal canal was too much. I shuddered with delight.

At the moment my finger pierced the dark depths of her, her head jerked back and she gasped for air. Her hand tightened around me, pumping harder than before. My finger was rhythmically slipping in and out of her, and with each thrust, she drew a quivered, gasping breath.

She cradled my dick in her hand and began to slide her mouth along the underside, her teeth dragging at my obscenely enlarged flesh. Her breath was in perfect tempo to my driving finger. The gods of copulation had to be watching, for at the very instant that I withdrew my finger from the mouth of her colon, her lips found the head of my cock and she impaled herself. My goddess of fellatio worked sinfully delicious spell upon spell upon my trembling cock. Her head, my fingers, my hips and the very world around me were all writhing in unison.

For the first time in my life, I felt the shadows of unconsciousness flirting with me as the tympanic pounding of our wanton dance crept to the edge of oblivion. I teetered there. Lewd flashes of light screamed at me, as the growing gasps of our spasmed breath became one voice.

I could bear it no longer.

My free hand twined its fingers into the thick hair at the back of her head. Holding that mane, I began to drive into her mouth. My right hand continued its assault, picking up speed. My hand was now slapping roughly against her ass, and each pelvic thrust into her mouth was greeted with gurgled breath.

“Oh, God…” My voice was quivering, and I could feel tingles beginning to mercilessly needle my arms. “Oh… G… Go… God…” Each faltering sound was drenched in whimpers. I felt tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

She glanced up at me, and when our eyes met, the world exploded.

At the instant the first surge erupted, I heard myself gasp. It was more than that. It was a sob. As each subsequent torrent of seed shot through the aching tip of my penis, I sobbed again, and soon realized I was crying. The tears were freely running down my cheeks.

My body was convulsing in a series of miniature seizures, each muscular contraction forcing another small wave into her mouth. Somewhere, a small pang of fear nipped my soul, and I realized I was giving her little room to breathe. I relaxed my iron grip and willed calm to wash over me. The tears were still flowing freely.

I had never known such simple, overwhelming joy.

I looked down at the small, now defenseless creature curled in my lap. She turned her head, glancing up at me with a look that was at once, satisfaction and hope. There was longing. There was titillation, and exhaustion. I was being given the rare gift of seeing true vulnerability, and in it, love.

She noticed my tears, and a shadow broke the spell. Thankful compassion took me over. My arms slowly wrapped around her and I lowered my lips to gently kiss the top of head. I cradled her in my arms, rocking gently. I whispered and cooed. I was blathering. There were no words to offer her that could properly convey the rare happiness I was feeling. I loosened my hold on her, and she rolled away from me.

There was a muddled softness in her eyes. There was also something else, but I couldn’t fathom what it was. That delicate vision was in direct contrast to the obscene amount of sperm that was smeared over her face. I don’t know if it was passion, or tender empathy, but I had to clean the carnage from her… and I had to do it then!

I tenderly drew my fingers along her cheeks and across her chin, removing great gobs of semen. As lightly as possible, I drew my fingertips along her lips, cleaning away the sinful residue. Finished with my ministrations, I helped her sit back up. There was a quiet look of contentment, a dash of excitement, and touch of bewilderment. My eyes momentarily brimmed again.

A small, demur smile crept on her face as she leaned toward me and began to lightly kiss the tears from my eyelids.

“Two hearts, one breath…”

A devilish smile emblazoned her face as she rolled on top of me. Her passion, and her want, soon enflamed me. We began another dance… one that I knew would rival the flames leaping in the fireplace.

The room began to fade.

At the first calling of the morning loon, I awoke. She still slept in my arms, contentment glowing on her face. I lay there watching… taking joy in her undisturbed slumber. After a fashion, I began to sense that something was different and my restlessness began to mount. Giving in to it, I unwrapped myself from her arms and loins, carefully covering her with the soft furs that had been our bed.

I chuckled to myself. Those furs had been a great investment, in site of the fact they had cost more than either of us could truly afford. But, we had gotten our money’s worth! The furs had been our playground on more than one occasion, but none as wonderful as this. The softness of the fur seemed to spark something inside her like some mystical tie between our animal earthiness and her sensuality.

I looked at her for a moment longer, wondering whether to wake her. I decided to let her sleep.

I turned and padded quietly over to the door, easing out into the early morning light. Once outside, I headed down to the shore feeling like some primeval hunter in my nakedness, stalking the dawn. At the edge of the pond I stopped, watching the water lap at the loins of the earth as it let its wetness mingle with the sand. I bent down. The waves were leaving behind a smooth canvas of sand, and with my finger I slowly carved her name.

I drew each letter slowly and carefully, treating each slight movement as if it were a sacred act. I sat back on my haunches and looked at the five figures that spelled her name, and I smiled at my handiwork. “God, I love that woman!”

The contented spell shattered as a thought raced through my mind. The dream had never gone this far before! My pulse quickened, and my senses came alive. The hunter within heard a noise and I knew instantly that she was standing behind me. I knew, too, that she was smiling. I stood and turned toward her. She was wrapped in one of the great furs and it contrasted with the softness of her skin. My breath was quivering. I swallowed, choking back the rising tide that threatened to overwhelm me. I stretched my hand out to her and she smiled.

I gathered her into my arms, and bent my lips close to her ear, whispering…
“Two hearts, one breath…”

She nuzzled against me, her answer almost inaudible. “And the stone breathes…”

At that moment, a wave gently rode up on the shore, sliding along the smooth sand canvas. It reached higher and higher, until the fingers of water slowly dissolved the letters I had so carefully drawn. As I watched, a single tear ran down my cheek. It wavered… then dropped, kissing the earth beneath us. In return, the earth seemed to blush.

EPILOGUE

The guard slammed back the heavy metal door and hollered the perfunctory “Get up! Everyone up!”

It was the mindless routine of a state worker closing in on retirement… ten days on, fours days off, eight hours of the same mind-numbing futility. He stood outside the cell for a moment, letting his weary senses process what appeared before him.

“What the fuck!”

It couldn’t be! It was impossible! The cell had been checked every twenty minutes throughout the night. Panic sucked at the pit of his stomach. He knew his senses weren’t lying. The bed was rumpled and obviously slept in. The window bars were still in place, bolted from the inside and out, and the half-inch weld that rimmed the window frame was still intact. The prisoner’s clothes were heaped on the floor and a Marlboro box was crumpled beside the pillow. He reached for the box and opened it. There was one unsmoked cigarette inside. He stared at it for a moment, as if it might hold the secret to what the hell had happened. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. He glanced around the room once more. Other than the crumpled Marlboro box and the pile of clothing, the cell appeared empty.

“Goddamn it!”

He spun around and stormed back to the guard station. As the phone lines burned between him and the warden, the inmates began to gather like flies around carrion, flitting and buzzing. The claxons began to blare and the inmates continued to clamber with ignorant curiosity, jostling and pushing each other, vying to get a peek inside the cell. The guard returned with his baton drawn, standing ready to levy judgment on those that defied his orders.

“Get your asses back into your fucking cells or I’m gonna crack some fucking heads.”

In the commotion, he backed into the now empty cell, his heels dragging through the dirt and dust that lie beside the bunk. As he did, he unwittingly erased five carefully drawn figures etched in the pile of cigarette ashes.

The five letters had spelled her name.