Dream Chasers 03

DISCLAIMER

This is a romantic adult erotic story with fictional characters and plot, targeted at fingernail fetish readers. If extremely long fingernails and/or toenails gross you out, then you're in the wrong place.

'Dream chasers - The Follow Up'

by V. Tarransky

Jan 2022

...And then: The Follow Up

I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened before I could land the first knock. She stood in the doorway dressed in a house robe, holding a coffee mug in her hand. She didn't look like she just woke up, she had a pair of glasses that had the blue-violet glimmer of blue filter coating on the lenses.

'Screen-time' I thought.

Taken by surprise by her opening the door from under my knock, I completely forgot what I was going to say, and a moment later my eyes jumped to the mug she was holding, from behind which the underside of her thumb-nail peeked upwards. It was probably longer than the finger it was growing out of, gently curved and with the slightest slant that would certainly become a twist on its way outwards. Flawless to my eyes, but incomprehensible and crooked for those who cannot see beauty in this.

I forced myself not to stare, and resumed eye contact, but the words were missing. It was obvious that she was expecting me. She looked straight into my eyes, then moved her sights to the bag I was holding. Held it in her gaze for a few moments, like she could see through the wrapping and look at the contents, though it was obvious what was inside, given the visible brand of the shop from which I just came up. She then resumed her look straight at the surprised expression on my face.

"That's not a Kindle", she started pointing with her eyes and chin at the bag. Then re-aimed her look at me like she was expecting some explanation.

I looked at the bag, then back at her.

"Oh... erm... Yeah, I-"

"...-forgot" she took over and completed my sentence. "Come on in," she added and got out of the way.

"You were waiting for me?" I said as I entered the flat.

"For ages, darling!" she replied exaggeratedly pretending to be desperate. "Seriously now, I knew you'd want to talk some time soon, I couldn't say exactly when, but I... felt it coming," she added, closing the door behind me. "And then, the door from downstairs is not very discreet. I noticed the sound of movement coming from your flat, then heard you going out and then a minute later I heard the door from downstairs again. I opened just to say 'hi', but it seems that you... do want to talk. Shoes - off!" she said as she passed by me, towards the kitchen.

I did as she instructed without much thought. It was her place after all. Her flat was identical to mine in spacing but the details of the interior were different, though still focused on easy maintenance.

"Go wash your hands," she continued. I was somehow startled by her bossing me around. "Go on... off you go! You know where it is."

I headed for the bathroom and on it's closed door, a poster that could be seen by anything with eyes, no matter how near sighted, said

BEWARE!

CLEAN FREAK

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

I took two seconds to make sense of it. 'Oh. I see.'

As I went towards it I passed by the bedroom to which the door was open. I stopped and peeked inside. The shades were still on and the light from the window was pretty dim. The double bed was neatly arranged and on the nightstand to the right, next to a few also neatly-arranged nightly-use items there was a piece of scribbled and torn notebook paper, undeniably similar to the one I wrote down my dream on and gave to her the evening before, most probably the exact same one. And then next to that, a rather unusual, dark, longish and round... thing, with a wide golden ring around its middle was... probably... recharging... through a white cable winding away from it. I couldn't help but smile.

"What's taking so long?" I heard her voice. Two seconds later I heard her hurried footsteps and saw her rush towards me with anger in her eyes. I thought she was going to kick or slap me, but she just rushed to the door of her bedroom and aggressively closed it. That kind of confirmed to me the purpose of the extra object on the nightstand.

"Sorry... I shouldn't have... uh..." my trying not to smile gave me away. Again.

"No, you should have not! I thought you wanted to talk, not... invade... my privacy!" The anger on her face quickly changed to shrewdness and guile. "You'll have to work and earn the right to do that! Now go wash! Shoo!" she waved me away, flapping her long nailed hands, so that I would put some distance to the door of the bedroom.

I did as she commanded, while she sneaked inside, probably to hide the 'evidence'.

I got back to the living room and sat on the sofa arranged similarly to the one in my flat and waited. She had already set a coffee mug for me and small plates on a similar coffee table by the corner sofa I sat on. By the window, a desk, smaller than the one in my flat and positioned in a different orientation, hosted a laptop computer which was turned on and displayed a paused video which I immediately recognized. It was one of a three-day workshop that Raduga was doing to popularize his 'phase' approach to lucid dreaming and similar states of awareness. At that moment she got back and caught me looking at the screen of her computer.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it's not polite to nose around in people's homes?"

I looked down feeling somewhat guilty, but I felt I had a way to defend myself.

"Of course she did. And I dare extend that statement to people's dreams, don't you agree?"

She smiled. "But you... wanted me, or at least my nails, in there" she replied as she sat and crouched her feet up on the other side of the corner sofa, leaning on one side, supporting herself on the armrest and cushions at the other end. I couldn't help but notice the fluffy colorful socks she was wearing, stirred by my curiosity aimed at her feet and pedicure.

"Helen, look. I-... uh... nevermind..." I tried to keep defending myself, but my overwhelming sense of shame won. "How much sleep did you get?" I changed the subject.

"Oooh, so it's a... 'professional' call. I see," she replied amused and took a sip from her mug. "Well, I didn't get much sleep last night. ...And as you have already noticed I found study material on the internet and used this time to see what the guy you told me about has to say."

"And how do you find it?"

"I would say... 'complementary' to LaBerge's "Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming". The topic is more... generalized, but the techniques described have quite a lot in common and, like you said, they seem more focused, more... explicit. Somehow, more... refined. Thanks for pointing me to it, with what I gathered so far I think it's time I should start putting it into practice. Raduga's lectures hint that it's not that difficult."

"Good. Way to go." This subject got kind of thin for now. "Umm... I'll just... I should be at my desk in 15 minutes." I checked my watch twice.

Though what I just said was technically true, my presence at my desk was not to be checked for another two hours, at the first online check in of the day. And given that the previous night I worked half-way through it just to keep my mind off from the embarrassment I experienced earlier, today I would just check in to report on my progress for the work I had already done.

"You look like you didn't get much sleep either, hmm?" she turned the question on me.

"No, I... couldn't. Yesterday was a bit... you know... hard."

"Hard, huh?..." she refrained from laughing.

I couldn't help but smile realizing my 'mistake'.

"You're going to turn this on me every chance you get, won't you?" I inquired.

"You started it" she replied.

"I did" I accepted the responsibility "...and look where it got me" I tried to be funny.

"Are you sorry?"

I looked at her again and I didn't know what to say. On one hand I was embarrassed by yesterday evening, I felt in her debt and having my fetish exposed. I felt vulnerable. On the other hand, her wit, open and self-conscious attitude about the way she looked and about the whole situation were somewhat toning down my unease.

"Never mind, you don't have to answer that" she added quickly. She was somehow sensing my vulnerability. She didn't feel like a... bad or... evil person. "So. Theo. Are you going to tell me what you came here to say?"

I sighed deeply. "I still feel... I dunno... guilty... about yesterday."

"Yes, you've mentioned that already. But that's not what you came here to tell me. D'you want me to tell you what it is?"

I looked at her, incredulous at her ability to completely understand how I felt.

"Something... triggered... you yesterday" she continued. "I don't know exactly what I... did... or how it felt to you, but it had something to do with my nails. You've lost control and now you're afraid that I might... take advantage of you. So... you've come to try and... gauge my intentions and to negotiate some... 'truce'. Hence... the 'peace offering'" she eyed the bag of pastry. "How am I doing?"

How could she be so relaxed? ...And blunt? ...And so... right? It was obvious that my confirmation was redundant.

"Theo, listen. I'm not going to take advantage of you, I'm not that kind of person. If I am going to win you, then I'm going to work for it. IF. And that is a big IF, because I hardly know you. We may have the lucid dreaming quest and some... nail... thing in common, but that's not enough, not even for me, and I am... very... willing to make... something happen. For all I know you can be just... some... weirdo, desperate to fulfill some... freakish nail... fetish... fantasy. But... I want to believe you're more than that, and that's why I'm going to try to make you open up to me. You have... guilt... oozing out of you and you're going to have to help me understand why."

She stopped and waited for me to speak.

"How can you possibly... know... that?" I managed to ask.

She chuckled and smiled.

"Theoooo!... It takes one to know one. When you're... odd... the world will inevitably... respond to your 'oddity'. If you're lucky, then your peculiarity will... entertain others and the feedback you'll get is harmless. But if you're not so lucky... then unless you're the narcissistic type - and you don't strike me as being such, a feeling of shame or guilt will embed in... the way you act, in the way you behave. I can see you constantly stealing glances at my nails. It's okay, I don't mind, I know you like them. And I like it that you like them. But the way you're doing it is just another giveaway of this shame and guilt you seem to bear."

The way she said it, it made perfect sense. But it exposed me even more. I was beginning to feel... 'naked'.

"Once you become aware of it... and understand it... you can do something about it. I've been there, I've... shed my guilt... I think? ...aaand put on a... different... coat," she patted her belly "but this one does not stem from the same source it seems. With your help, I'll dream it off."

"My help?..." I scoffed. "The way I feel right now... it's more like the other way around. You're so... sure of yourself, so confident. And I've just lost another bit of what little confidence and self esteem I had. I was thinking I was... managing my... obsession pretty well, and then... you came along. Or rather I... stumbled on to you. Or... I don't know... the... 'blame' of our encounter is getting fuzzy. It became inevitable that we would meet the moment you moved in here."

"That thing you said with the stars being aligned..." she smiled. "We probably have a few things to learn from each other." A moment later her smile vanished and she added thoughtfully "...But it might just as well be a coincidence."

A pause in the conversation followed and we sipped coffee.

"Now... about... yesterday evening," she changed the subject. "Can you... explain to me what happened? Help me understand. What was it that was so... overwhelming?"

I quickly replayed the events in my head and tried to remember how it felt.

"I can't explain what happened. It felt like... I don't know how to say it... a combination of 'too much', 'too strong', 'too sudden' for what I... expected, I guess. Or rather for what I was not expecting."

"And that's... just... from my nails?"

"Yes... Wait! No. It's... the way you... 'offered' them to me - I can't think of a better word. I... crave... to... feel them, and I don't mean it in necessarily the physical touching sense. A woman's long nails... trigger, like you said, something in my perception... There is somehow a... 'sense' I have especially for them and when I say that I crave to feel them it's through this... extra 'sense' that I perceive your nails and their growing. It's a... feeling all over my... being, a 'rush' of sorts, I don't know what to call it, or a 'high' maybe... I dunno, I never did drugs."

I paused to let her digest what I was saying while I tried to formulate what I was going to say next.

"And then you... presenting your nails to me, sort of like... sharing them with me, was like... something that tastes extremely good, but... too much, too strong, too fast. Like... sweet is good, but... sweeter ...and a lot of it in... one... mouthful. It's... too sweet, your taste gets... saturated. Overloaded. You need a glass of water to get over it, to get... relief. And... uh... what happened next..."

"...-makes sense now" she took over my sentence, sparing me the embarrassment of trying to explain what little there was in my head at the time. "Wow... that's... quite... uh... powerful... I don't know what to say. I had no idea that my nails could be so... desired, so... like you said, craved."

She was looking at her nails as she said that, like looking for something hidden in them that I could see and she couldn't.

"So... basically, what you're saying is that you... have an... 'on' switch that I accidentally flipped ...aaand then that... there's also a... 'turbo' button, which by another coincidence I managed to... hold... pressed, for longer than it would otherwise be... satisfying, is that right?"

"That's... one way of putting it, yeah..." I smiled at the analogy with a kitchen blender. "Though I would have to say that the... erm... 'on'... switch, as you've... named it, for you... would... be... uh... very... difficult not to flip it, having... nails... so long and... beautiful."

I looked down in embarrassment. She was silent and didn't say anything until I hesitantly started to look back at her. She had one hand over her mouth and I could see her eyes widened in surprise.

"I think that's the... sexyest and... sweetest and... most... beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me! Oh my God... I'm... blushing!..." she set her mug down on the table, while I picked up mine and took another sip and then she took off her glasses and set them also on the table. "Gosh, I'm... not sure what I can do to express my... erm... appreciation for your... umm... compliment, I guess, but without over-... erm... ...-doing it. Again."

She was still crouched on the sofa, with her attention on me, like she was afraid that I might... go off. "Are you... 'on'? ...Right now?"

Could she be any more direct than that? Probably not.

"Helen... Please, don't make me feel embarrassed even more than I already am. I opened up to you. You said you won't try to take advantage of me."

"But I don't want to take advantage of you! I told you I am willing to put the time and effort into making you like me."

"But... Helen, I do like you! The way you're handling what happened yesterday is... I don't know... It shows... class. There's an amazingly classy lady behind that... that... um..."

"...Fat?"

"I was going to say... 'robe'" I smiled with guilt.

She burst into laughter.

"Gosh, that was... brilliant how you dodged a word that... I dunno... that can hold you accountable. You know I'm fat, you just don't want to say it to my face. That's so sweet..." She paused. "Anyway, you've summarized it pretty well. You just... 'like' me. You're probably afraid of even thinking about... something more, because my... fat...-ness... is... un-... un-...concealable. But hey, at least you got this far, you came back to talk and we didn't even have sex. 'Not in the sense that everyone thinks about it, anyway', isn't that how you said it?"

I looked down again and didn't know what else to add to the conversation. And then, coming from her direction, I heard:

"Come on, take it out".

"What?!?!" I felt a punch in my stomach.

"Take... it... out. You know... it?" she continued, gesturing with her eyes to my groin.

This... came as unexpected as her asking me about my dream the evening before. But being with a clear 'aim' and 'straight on the mark' the 'hit' was much more effective.

"You can't seriously be thinking about going to work still... 'on', can you? So instead of letting you go and... relieve yourself on your own, I'm going to... give you a... hand," she added and emphasized the last word with a quick double eyebrow wave. "What do you say?" she added, raising a hand towards me, gently wiggling her fingers with nails almost as long as them in a hypnotically familiar manner, and my eyes hopelessly latched on to them. Bare, spotless, creamy translucent, unequally curving and gently slanting, each one naturally imperfect, but all of them natural perfection in itself.

"That... thing... you're doing it... again..." I said, feeling my heart pounding in my throat.

"Oh, right!..." she pulled her hand back.

Suddenly I got a feeling of uncertainty about the reality of it. Dream sign! "Be honest with me, Helen, is this a d-...?"

"Does it matter? If it's a dream or not?" She got closer to me on the sofa.

"Yes... Actually, no. I just... need to know."

"Why?"

"Because... things this... perfect... don't happen in real life. Not to me."

"Let's not exaggerate, Theo, you know there's a few things about me that are quite... far from being perfect. Come on, help me out here. Taaake... iiit... out" she said as she traced her index nail against the front of my jeans.

I felt like there had to be some... payback for it, otherwise things would be... somehow off-balance. Strangely, the idea of rejecting her offer did not even cross my mind.

"There has to be a catch," I said.

"No, there isn't."

"You may say so, and you may even think so. But you're making it feel... 'for free'. 'For granted'. And I know for certain that there is no such thing. And after yesterday... there'd be even more for me to feel... indebted to you."

"Okay... You've paid me the most beautiful compliment I've ever been given. Think of it like... I'm giving you an appreciation... gift."

"...ummmnooo... that's too... thin."

"Okay, then... consider it part of our deal. You can do anything you want with my nails, remember?"

"No, the... erm... current balance is still in your favor."

"Fine! Then put it under my efforts to... steer your feelings towards me?"