Australian Dreams Ch. 01byWillGraham30115©
A Yank named Pat. A native of the Land Down Under named Alli. Two people who met by chance, and in the realm of dreams, were allowed to fly for a while together. These are our stories. Stories that fall somewhere between dreams, hopes, and fantasies.
Part One, Alli's Vision is an extended transcript of a chat log between us on 11/30/01. I've added some parts to it for the sake of continuity, aesthetics and depth. It is written from your point of view, so I hope I have depicted your psychology correctly.
Part Two, Sydney Night Life is an extended transcript of a chat log between us on 11/29/01. It was inspired by a dream that took place in two separate dream sessions on 11/25/01. The chronology of the original dream had this sequence taking place the night I arrived. For the sake of continuity, I've moved it to night two of my visit to the Land Down Under. This chapter is written from my point of view.
Part Three, Moonlight Serenade is based on a brief mental image acquired during the same chat session that was the basis for Sydney Night Life. I built a vignette around this mental image, and during a chat session between us on 12/12/01, we wrote it out. It is written in the third-person perspective. It takes place in the late evening of day three of my visit.
Part Four, Afternoon Ice Cream is based on a dream session from April 2003, and described to you in an MSN chat log on 05/22/03. As with Part Three, it has been modified and streamlined to fit the rest of the story. It is written from the third-person perspective as well. This chapter takes place on day five.
Part Five, At Ayers Rock is based on a dream session from May 2003, and described to you in a chat log in late May. As with all previous chapters, it has been modified and streamlined to fit the rest of the story. It is written from the third-person perspective. This chapter takes place on day six.
Part Six: Night Interlude is based on a very powerful image that you conjured up for me in a chat session from 06/18/03. Like most chapters, it's written in the third-person perspective. It takes place on the night of day eight.
Part Seven: Dominatrix Alli has its basis in another visceral image that you thought up in a phone conversation on 07/09/03. The simple ingredients: you in leather gear, me tied to the bed, and a riding crop. While I have checked the BDSM elements of this section as closely as I can with the resources at my disposal, be aware that some parts may not be technically accurate. It is written from your point of view, and takes place on the afternoon and early evening of day nine.
One: Alli's Vision
Too right, I was nervous. Here I was meeting this Yank I had originally met in an X-rated chat room, and had never even seen outside of pictures. Alli, how do you get yourself into these spots? I asked myself. My capacity for mischief, as my daughter is fond of pointing out, is remarkable. His plane had already landed, and passengers were now debarking. I strained my eyes, trying to sort through the crowd. There, there he was!
My first impression was that he was a fairly nondescript gent. Youngish, looked in his mid-20s, a bit younger than his actual 33. Rich red hair, the shade of high-quality rubies, was what pointed him out to me. Pat had mentioned that his hair was his most distinctive feature; it was normally a chestnut brown, dyed to this rather magnificent shade of red. He had an oval face, with intelligent hazel eyes framed by bronze eyeglass frames and high cheekbones. It made him look rather Irish. He had some stubble on his face, not even what you could call five o'clock shadow. Not surprising - the poor gent had just been on an airplane for almost thirty hours straight. He spotted me, and smiled. The smile lit up his face, making him almost glow. The smile wasn't perfect, but that's what made it real. I smiled back as he walked up to me.
We hugged, just holding each other for a moment. We really didn't think this was going to come together, but here he was. Breaking the embrace first, he gently stepped back. "It's really good to see you," he said. The smile was still there, but softer. Bit of a sensual look there, a wicked part of my mind said. I told that part of my mind to shut up for the moment. His tenor voice held a bit of roughness from what he had told me was a recently-quit 15-year addiction to cigarettes. That's a voice I could wake up to, that same wicked part of me chimed up, refusing to be tamed. Ignoring it, I said to Pat: "It's really good to have you. I take it the flight was all right?"
He grinned. "Better than that. If American airlines had service half as good as Qantas, none of them would be bankrupt." We then proceeded to my car; he had only brought one fairly large rucksack. The drive to my home was a really nice one -- he turned out to be as good of a conversationalist in person as he was online.
We walked in my front door, and I led him upstairs to the main area. Pausing a moment, Pat had a look. "Where should I put my bag?" Smiling, I replied, "Follow me, and I'll show you." Walking down the hallway to the spare room, which is right next to mine, he peeked into my bedroom, and commented, "Wow, nice big bed." He was wearing a flirtatious grin as he said it.
My smile widened. What a cheeky boy he is, I thought to myself. "Let me show you the other room - it's where you'll be sleeping." We walk into the room which is decorated in a Chinese décor: black wrought iron queen size bed (the only item not really Chinese in design), deep blue walls, and white ricepaper shades. He paused a moment, absorbing the sense of the room. I recalled he had a prior incarnation who was Japanese; the room probably appealed to that one. He nodded appreciatively. "Hmmm, I like this one too ... and it's so close to yours." The tone was of genuine sincerity, but after the pause, he was definitely sounding playful.
He placed his bag on the floor near the door and went to sit on the bed. There was a look of genuine relief there, and my heart ached for him a little bit. Poor Pat. Long flight, and those cramped muscles. A wicked, wicked idea began to form in my mind. "Hmmm, nice and soft," he commented. He noted the wardrobe directly across from the foot of the bed, and its mirrored surface. His left eyebrow shot up briefly, a trait he told me that he had acquired from watching Mr. Spock far too much. "Wow, the mirrored wardrobe reflects everything I do on this bed, huh? Could be fun." He said that last with a smirk. My eyes widened slightly, the corners of my own mouth turning up in a fresh smile. Oh, and he's a charmer, too.
He reached out his hand and took mine, saying as he did, "It is so great to be here, I can't believe I'm actually here, with you alone in your house." I could hear the wonder in his voice, and the rougher tone of attraction. I smile again, a soft inviting look, and he slowly stood up, taking me in his arms, pulling me closer towards him.
I don't resist, snuggling deep into his embrace. I remember holding him tightly, inhaling his sweet fragrance, smelling slightly of cinnamon and smoke. I realize that my heart is pounding quite rapidly and Pat's heart wasn't far behind.
Slowly his hands begin to travel down my spine, causing a wave of pleasure to race through my body. My breath quickens as he slid his hand up inside my shirt and touched my bare flesh for the first time.
I looked up at him and gave an almost imperceptible nod, the look that gives him my encouragement. He's not much taller than me, only by a couple of inches, and he smiles anew as we gaze into each other's eyes. I lift my hand up to trace my nails across his smiling lips slowly; he opened his mouth and began to suck my finger seductively. Still staring at each other, I removed my finger and replaced it with my lips, kissing him softly, my tongue tracing his lips and then forcing its way deep inside his mouth.
I kissed him passionately, and we both sense the overwhelming hunger; within seconds we are locked tightly in a steamy passionate kiss, mouths and tongues meshing together.
His hands are up inside my shirt caressing my tingling flesh, my own hands rapidly trying to undo his shirt as we tear our clothes off in complete and utter lust. Our lips never parted as we fumble and throw clothing all over the room, till our naked bodies are pressed against each other.
I lift my mouth from his and place my palms against his naked pounding chest, slowly pushing him back onto the bed.
He doesn't resist me, lying back and watching me as I stretch luxuriously, standing in front of him naked. My reflection shows in the mirror, his eyes caress me, all sides of me. I decide it's a curiously wanton feeling, and it feels good.
I slowly lower myself to his side, tracing my nails along the length of his body. I feel him quiver from my touch, his whole body responding to me. I gaze upon his nakedness and I see just how much he wants me. Sliding my hands over his chest, I move them slowly down his body until I hear him gasp with pleasure, my hands grasping his erect cock and feeling him pulse and twitch from my touch.
I lean down and kiss his skin, nibbling and kissing his chest, chewing his nipple gently as he feels my hot wet tongue tracing its way down to meet my hands and their captured prize. He lifts his hand to my head and begins running his fingers through my hair as I slowly lick and nibble his trembling flesh.
I turn my head slightly to smile up at him as I stick out my tongue and touch the tip of his cock. He almost comes right there from the heat of my breath, as I slowly I flick my tongue around the tip of him, then closing my lips, I kiss him. My hands are sliding up and down his silken skin, his thick shaft so hard and throbbing as I open my lips and begin to suck on the head of his cock He begins to thrust his hips up and down, unable to remain still any longer. I open my mouth and take him deeper inside of my mouth. Pat's gasp of mingled surprise and pleasure is audible, fading to a groan of ecstasy.
The heat from him is so intense; his cock feels as if it's on fire. I can feel his balls tighten under my touch as my lips slide down the length of him. He starts to fuck my mouth, moaning loudly, unable to speak or control his passion as he feels himself losing control, my lips sucking the life out of him. My tongue teases him from inside my mouth flicking the head with delicate motions.
Up and down my mouth slides, Pat thrusting in time with my movements. His body is so tense, hands gripping the headboard as he feels the first waves of orgasm streaming through his body.
I smile as I know he can't hold back any longer. I feel him pulsing on my tongue, his hardness growing if that's even possible. I continue sucking, my hands still massaging his cock and gently squeezing his balls. He moans loudly, telling me in a voice thick with passion that he's about to come as he thrusts violently up and down, my lips still gripping him, my mouth still milking his cock
I hear him gasp as his body convulses in wave after wave of passion, tasting his warm sweetness spurting against my tongue. I continue sucking, more gently now, my hands still caressing his flesh.
I hear his breathing slow as he collapses, completely exhausted. As every muscle in his body relaxes, I swallow the last few drips of his juices and slowly release him from my mouth. With a smile in place, I look up at him and ask, "Now, was that worth travelling over here for?" His eyes are half-closed, looking at me with a look that was equal parts amazement and amusement. He nodded, pulling me close to him. "Oh, yes, Alli. It certainly was. It's going to be interesting to see what the rest of our time has in store for us."
Send private anonymous feedback to the author (to post a public comment instead).