Dreams of Ginnie

Ginnie leaned forward, placed her elbow on table, and gently placed her chin in the cup of her hand. The V of her blouse intentionally gaped. She watched his eyes. They were focused on her exposed cleavage. That satisfied her. Ginnie delighted in the tease. She nonchalantly moved her hand across her lap to tug at her blouse. Now when she moved, even more of the V between her creamy breasts was exposed. Ginnie crossed her legs under the table and coolly slid the point of her high-heeled shoe against the back of his calf. Tony took an involuntary breath. Ginnie gave him a sultry smile and rummaged through her purse for her notebook. Her questions always began with her favorite topic of conversation between them, Tony's dreams, and desires.

Tony delighted of moments like this. He liked the conversation and he particularly liked the way Ginnie flirted with him: a flash of cleavage, a coy word, and an inadvertent touch. While tantalized by these displays, he was cautious with what he revealed to her. Tony carefully guarded his dreams and fantasies. To dream one must sleep or at least relinquish conscious control and therein was his terror. The vivid blue flashes, the tingling from head to toe, and the blinding white light all combined to make his dreams of her a fearful experience. Yet, Tony could not help himself. She was constantly on his mind and in his thoughts. It was hard for Tony not to contemplate, savor, and mentally relive those private, secret moments they spent together when she dominated his entire being.

His head bobbed and snapped back. He jolted wide-awake and sat bolt upright only to discover he was still at his office desk. It was awash in unmarked student papers. Tumbling over the computer keyboard were the notes for the next day's lecture. Organization by piles was his forte. By the bookshelves were three disorderly heaps representing the current research papers with which he busied himself. Publish or perish was still the rule even for a professor with tenure. He felt a moment of panic. Glancing at his watch he was relieved to find that he had not slept through their date. He had enough time for a leisurely walk to the rendezvous. She was never late; on the other hand, he tried never to keep her waiting. Through the halls, he strode popping in and out of offices and classrooms. He punctuated each visit with a short conversation.

"Alice, could these be copied for tomorrow's class? Sixty copies should be enough."

"Jason, you need to hand in those papers, if you want to upgrade your marks before the end of term."

"Excuse me ladies...Oh thanks, glad you enjoyed the lecture"

His progress towards the outside courtyard was a series of one-way conversations delivered with practiced sincerity. "Oh Laurie, we must meet regarding, oh you know, what do you call it? We need to have it ready for the Dean before month's end. Drop by Alice's office and make an appointment so we can finish it..." His voice trailed off, not waiting for a reply he headed through the doors and outside.

He proceeded at a steady pace across the courtyard to the cafŽ by the Student Union Building. Since it was a warm, bright, fall afternoon he chose an outside table. He beckoned the young waitress, ordered their usual fare of nachos and beer, and sat back to wait.

At precisely 4:30, he saw her leave "The Maze" and start across the courtyard. She was wearing a crisp blue pantsuit and a white blouse. His favorite piece of jewelry, a gothic cross, was around her neck. They had met just over four years ago at a faculty mixer. She was a junior assistant in the Psychology Department doing research on the electrical transmission of brain impulses or something like that. He could never remember. Drawn to her quiet assertiveness, he had arranged that they work on several committees together. Over the years, they found that they shared a lot.

They had an unusual relationship. Both lived alone and vicariously through friends, nieces, nephews, clubs, research, papers, lectures, students, and dreams. However, for an hour and a half every Tuesday, they shared a special reality over beer and nachos. As friends who cared a great deal about each other, they flirted, touched, and traded conversations not about one another, but the world around them. Smiles permeated these interludes and they culminated in hugs. Sometimes during their meetings, she would even reach out and touch his chest but the public involvement never went past the platonic stage. She knew he was unavailable and her morality had drawn clear boundaries. These made sure he never had the opportunity to cross the line of indiscretion. Bands controlled his life. They bound him. He had been married for 24 years spread over three less than happy occasions. Deep in his soul, he wondered and worried if the reasons for the failures were within him.

Yet, twice a month, after the evening faculty meetings she walked across the college courtyard through the garden archway and up to the backdoor of Windsor College. There in the shadows of dusk, a small silver key allowed her to enter and wind her way up the stairs to a room on the third floor. Tony's long tenure at the college allowed him certain perks. The garret in the old college building was one of them.

The room, while stark, had a neat lived in look. Within the cell-like confines were a roll top desk, wardrobe, and daybed. In front of the window was a large cast iron radiator. Nearby was a low table with a red wine bottle and two glasses. In the centre of the floor was an oblong area rug.

Tony's long strides took him quickly down the hall. He eagerly anticipated each rendezvous. Each one reaffirmed his dreams and fantasies. Tony saw that the garret door was ajar. He cautiously pushed it open. There she was dressed in a uniform-like skirt and blouse, lounging on the bed, wine in hand. "You're late! It's rude to keep a lady waiting, you know" Ginnie looked at him sternly. Tony did not say a word, only placed his tweed jacket over the back of the chair, poured himself a glass of wine, and sat on end of the bed opposite her. He took a sip of wine and began to massage her feet with his free hand. She wore no stockings and reveled at his touch. "That feels marvelous, darling," Ginnie said with encouragement. After placing the glass on the floor, his hands moved to her calves. She moved her legs to provide easier access. The hem of the skirt crept up her thighs and his hands followed.

Ginnie stretched and emptied her glass. Tony's hands continued to explore. Her face was now flushed and she was enjoying the warmth that was building in her pelvis. The thin material of her panties transmitted every touch of his fingers. She could feel her wetness growing and his hot breath against her inner thighs.

"Sweetie, stop for a moment. Let's get out of these clothes." Her voice was husky but she was clearly in control. In moments, their clothes were in neat piles on the floor, they were back on the bed. Ginnie guided Tony's head with her hands. Tony gently kissed her inner thighs and her pubic hair. His teeth nipped and tugged at her neatly trimmed bush. His eager lips found her pussy. Then his tongue began to explore her wetness. Ginnie could feel her heat and tension build. She guided his mouth to her clit. Rapid tongue movements and sucking soon brought her first glorious release. "Tony, I need your cock," came the panted command. Tony started to rise up. He stroked his hardness and pointed it at her gaping pussy. "No! I want to suck on it and I want you to suck on me." Came the impassioned command. Tony obeyed. He straddled her face and buried his nose in her pussy.

Tony enjoyed it when Ginnie took control. He liked doing her bidding. Strong fingers grasped his cock and her tongue probed hard against his penile opening. Her sex now pressed urgently against his face. The smell and taste of her sweet cream electrified his thoughts. She squirmed as Tony's tongue lapped against her clit. She bucked. Her thighs squeezed, vice-like, against his temples as his probing tongue snaked deep within her. Teeth grated against the sides of his penis as Ginnie's head bobbed up and down. She reached out and grabbed his toes. Her nails dug into the balls of his feet. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite. Tony could hold out no longer. Brilliant flashes of white light filled his brain and he released, as his body writhed in a series of rhythmic convulsions. Ginnie's equally explosive orgasm followed just a few seconds later. Then they both collapsed in exhaustion.

Moments later, the pain of the pinch brought him quickly back to consciousness. "Just wanted to see if you were awake," she said. His eyes opened to a radiant smile. It was disarming and put him completely at ease. "Are you ready for your next treatment?" she inquired eagerly. He only had the strength to give an affirming nod.

Four vice-like fleshy bands grabbed him by the arms. Two white clad giants assisted him as he shuffle stepped down the hall. His feet barely touched the floor. He looked forlornly about. His eyes filled with fear. Other patients turned away and as he tried to speak but he found himself politely and forcefully told to be quiet. Mutely he made his way past the offices, the treatment areas, and the waiting rooms. They moved him with purposeful progress to the door at the end of the hall marked Psycho Electro Therapy.

They pushed him through the door. The smell of the Mexican food served at lunch lingered in the air. The remainders were on a tray, on the desk, in the corner. In the center of the room was a mahogany table complete with steel arm and leg restraints. Each restraint was sheepskin padded. Electrodes hung down at the corners of the table and ran to a large white box by the far wall. She stood beside the equipment, dressed in a blue pantsuit and a crisp white blouse. Draped around her neck was a stethoscope. Piled on the control unit, next to her, were the patients' charts. In her right hand was a hypodermic needle. She smiled pleasantly and nodded to the burly attendants. He was levitated to the table, restrained with the extremity bands, and his temples and toes connected to the apparatus. She placed the latex tourniquet around his right arm and pinched the exposed flesh. "Just wanted to see if you were awake," she said with a cold laugh. "Now, just relax and think peaceful thoughts. You're safe now, everything will soon be alright," she said as she slipped the needle into his vein. Leaning over him, her blouse gaped. She watched his eyes and smiled. Then she placed the stethoscope against his chest. Tony's eyes now focused on the plastic hospital ID badge prominently displayed on her left breast. It read, Ginnene Roberts. Then she whispered in a most disarming fashion, "Pleasant dreams Mr. Ramponi."