The doorbell rang and she answered it, trying to act normally. Wendy and Diane came in, handing her two bottles of wine they had purchased.
“Hi, it’s good to see you,” Carol said, a little breathlessly.
They exchanged hugs and Carol asked about Suzanne.
“I dunno,” Diane said. “She said she would be here. But I haven’t seen her all week so I don’t know what she’s up to.”
“Really? I haven’t either,” Wendy said, and then asked Carol, “Did she call you?”
“Uh, no. I guess she’s just been busy. I’m sure she’ll show.”
They went into the kitchen where Carol had prepared canapés. They opened both bottles of wine, grabbed glasses and plates and returned to the living room. They sat on the couch and gossiped about their lives. As the wine flowed, the women all felt more relaxed, yet no one volunteered to discuss their strange behaviors. They all believed they were alone in their dreams and waking fantasies. It would be too embarrassing to just come right out and say it. Each thought the others would think they were nuts.
The doorbell rang and they all exclaimed, “There’s Suzanne!” Carol ran to the door. Suzanne entered, carrying another bottle of wine. She had a big smile on her face that somehow seemed out of place.
“Hello, hello!” They air-kissed and sat down.
“It’s about time,” Wendy said.
“Boy, Suzanne, you look distracted,” Diane remarked. “What have you been up to?”
“Oh nothing,” she said without conviction. Her smile widened into plastic territory.
“Come on, spill it!”
“Nothing happened!” She tried not to sound testy.
“Sounds like man trouble,” Diane said. “So you might as well tell us who he is.”
Suzanne looked away, tears forming at the edges of her eyes.
“Come on, this is us here, girl. You can trust us,” Carol said, pouring her a glass of wine.
Suzanne took a healthy sip and said, “I’m not sure you would approve.”
“Why wouldn’t we? I’m just jealous, that’s all,” Diane said.
Wendy had a sudden urge to confess her own little secret just to make Suzanne feel better. “Hey, whatever happened to you can’t be any worse than what happened to me. I got so horny, I called my ex-husband!”
The girls laughed and teased her, breaking the spell. More wine was poured. Suzanne finally relaxed a little.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell us if it’s really bothering you that much,” Wendy said, putting a hand on her forearm.
“No, I probably should. Because I don’t quite understand it myself.”
They waited. No one wanted to try to force information out of her. They knew she would tell them when she was ready.
“Okay, here it is. I slept with a man Tuesday night.”
“That’s it? B.F.D.,” Carol said. She was thinking about her own dreams of being “forced” to submit and felt a little shiver of desire run through her.
“Well, that’s not it. I slept with another man Thursday night.”
“A different man?” Wendy asked.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and had another slug of wine. “And Saturday night I slept with another man.”
“Three different men in a week!? Wooo-hooo!” Diane said, fist pumping the air. “Who says women can’t be equal to men!”
“Yeah, but men are considered worldly when they sleep around, women are called sluts,” Suzanne pointed out.
“So who are these guys? You think you’ll date them again? And by that I mean, not all at once,” Carol said, trying to make a joke. But Suzanne wasn’t laughing.
“The reason I’m late tonight is because I stopped off and met another man at a bar earlier.” Suddenly she burst into tears.
The other girls sat, shocked. They had never seen Suzanne behave this way before.
“What’s going on?” Diane asked. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? This isn’t like you.”
“I know!” She grabbed a tissue out of her purse and dabbed her eyes then blew her nose. In a quiet voice, she said, “And that’s not the worst of it.”
The other women looked at each other. What could be worse than sleeping with four men in less than a week?
“I don’t know any of their names…” she said, her voice trailing off to a whisper.
The girls sat shocked. How could that be? Wendy finally vocalized what they were thinking. “You didn’t get any of their names? How did that happen?”
“No. I…I didn’t want to know.”
“Oh my god,” Diane said. She put a hand to her forehead. “Oh my god.”
“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do!” Suzanne said, and cried anew.
“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking of you. I was thinking about something that happened to me.” She told them about the visions that had come to her during her meeting last week and how in the days since she couldn’t stop thinking about having sex in front of others. “And let me tell you, these aren’t run-of-the-mill daydreams. I was rocked by them.”
“Oh shit,” Carol said. “I’ve had strange dreams too.” She told them about the dream where the handsome man and others had dominated her in such a wonderful and loving way.
All eyes swiveled to Wendy. “How about you?” Suzanne asked, still blotting her wet eyes.
“Uh. Well. Yeah. I’ve had, uh, urges too.”
“Let me guess,” Diane said. “You got turned on when you thought about being a prostitute.”
Wendy nodded wordlessly.
“That’s why you called your husband,” Carol said quietly.
“Yeah,” Wendy responded, her voice low. “Except he wouldn’t play along.”
For several seconds, the four women sat and stared at each other, each lost in her own thoughts. Finally Suzanne broke the tension.
“This is just like our fantasies. I mean, they’re coming true.”
“Come on,” Carol said, desperate to come up with another explanation. “I mean, why now? We’ve all had these fantasies for years, right? Why all of a sudden would they manifest themselves?”
As one, all eyes slid over to Diane.
“The little leprechaun,” Suzanne said.
“No way! That old thing? That’s ridiculous.”
“Do you still have it?” Wendy asked, holding her breath.
“No, like I said, I returned it the next day. It really wasn’t me.”
Suzanne and Carol jumped up. “We’ve got to get that back!”
“I can’t believe it! You guys are going off the deep end,” Diane said, shocked.
“Then please explain to me how else this could be happening,” Carol said. “Everything we said during our little confessional last week has come true. I am having very powerful dreams about being, well, a submissive. Wendy is having call-girl dreams. Suzanne is having a series of one-night stands and can’t seem to stop. And you, you are imagining fucking your boss in the conference room in front of everyone, just like in your fantasy!”
Diane had no response. It sounded crazy. Could it be true?
“Remember the little electric shocks we got?” Wendy said.
“Yeah, like static electricity,” Suzanne added.
“My god. What if we can’t find it?” Carol said. But inside a voice said, Would it be so bad?
“I’ll be known as the biggest slut in New York City,” wailed Suzanne.
“At least you won’t get arrested,” Wendy put in. “Or get beaten up by a pimp.”
“Yeah. I wonder how my boss would react if I were caught fucking some guy in front of everyone? I think my career would take a nosedive. I wonder what time that little shop closes?” Diane asked, checking her watch. It was almost eight. “It could still be open.”
“Let’s go. Maybe we can get there in time.” Suzanne grabbed her purse and led the group out into the hallway.
“What are we supposed to tell him? And what are we supposed to do once we
get it back?” Diane asked.
“I don’t know. But maybe we can reverse it somehow. The key is, we have to have that fucking leprechaun.”
The girls hailed a cab and Diane gave him the address. They arrived at eight-thirty only to find the store closed.
“Shit! It says it closes at seven-thirty, Monday through Friday.” Diane squinted at the placard in the window.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Ten a.m.”
“All right, there’s nothing to be done. We’ll just have to meet here at ten tomorrow.”
“But what about…you know.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Suzanne said. “Just lock yourselves in your apartments and take sleeping pills.”
“Easy for you to say,” Wendy pointed out. “You’ve already gotten your stranger out of the way tonight.”
Suzanne glared at her. “Hey, do you think I like it? I can’t help it if my secret fantasy is legal. It still makes me a slut.”
Wendy hung her head. “I know. I’m sorry. That crack was unnecessary.”
“It’s all right, we’re all on edge,” Carol said.
“Okay,” said Suzanne, taking charge. “Let’s all call in sick, at least for the morning. We’ll meet here at ten and hopefully, we’ll be back to normal by noon.”
They agreed it was really the only solution.
Chapter Seven
The shopkeeper
Promptly at ten, the four women met on the corner near the store. It was still not open so they stood and compared notes. Suzanne had slept pretty well but the others all had increasingly erotic dreams about their chosen fantasies and appeared haggard, worried.
Diane had arrived wearing a skirt with no panties, just a garter belt and stockings. She hadn’t been able to stop herself. She rationalized it by telling herself no one would know, but why then did she have the urge to let her skirt fly up in the morning wind, showing her bare pussy to the strangers walking by? Just the thought of that made her so wet she could barely stand it.
Wendy had actually called an escort service that morning and inquired about jobs there. This came after she awoke in a sweat, her mind filled with images of strange men in anonymous hotel rooms. Fortunately, the service suspected trouble and hung up on her.
Carol awoke with her trusty dildo in her hand, thrusting it deep into her wet pussy, moaning with desire as she dreamt her mystery man was forcing her to entertain him and two friends.
They were all nervous as cats as they waited. Little was said for they could tell at a glance each woman was on edge.
Finally, the door was unlocked and they all hurried in. The proprietor was a tall, handsome man in his early fifties with a full head of black hair speckled with gray. He seemed surprised to find four good-looking women in his store first thing.
“Well, what can I do for you lovely ladies,” he said, returning to his post behind the glass counter.
“That leprechaun sculpture I bought and returned. Do you still have it?” Diane said in a rush. She stood close so she could press her clit right up against the low counter. She hoped her friends wouldn’t notice.
“Whoa. Wait a minute. What sculpture?”
“The green one. It looked like he was laughing? It was kinda weird-looking?”
“Oh yes, I remember that one! I was disappointed to see you bring it back. I really thought you liked it.”
“Yeah, yeah—do you still have it?”
“Uh, no, I’m sorry. That particular piece was on consignment. When you returned it, I let the owner know. He came in the next day and picked it up. He seemed rather put out.”
An anguished cry went up from the women. The storekeeper was taken aback. “Well, if you felt that strongly about it, why did you return it?”
“It was a mistake,” Diane said. “My friends, uh, convinced me it was right for me.” She had a sudden desire to flip up her skirt and press her bare mound against the edge, watching the eyes of the proprietor as she did. She bit her lip.
“Well, I’m sorry, but we have many fine pieces—”
“NO!” the entire group said at once.
“Can you tell me who owns it? We’d be willing to buy it back.” Diane pushed up on her toes, increasing the pressure to her sex.
“Oh I’m sorry, my consignment customers are confidential. You wouldn’t want someone rummaging around in your private business, would you?”
“Yes, but we’re willing to give the owner more money for it,” Suzanne put in. “Can you at least call him and let him know? Maybe he’ll talk to us.”
“Normally, I might, considering just how desperate you ladies seem to be. But this client said it was no longer for sale.”
A collective groan went up from the group.
“But I’m the original buyer!” Diane pleaded. “And I want it back!”
“That is unusual. But he was quite insistent.”
Diane stepped back with great reluctance and dug into her purse. She handed him her business card. “Listen, this is urgent. I can’t express just how important this is. Please tell the owner to call me at this number anytime.” She wrote her home number on the back. “We just want to talk.”
As she handed him the card, she felt a surge of emotions when their fingers touched and glanced into his eyes. He smiled.
“Well, I don’t know… I’ll have to think about it.” His words held weight and she felt drawn to him. Diane was suddenly hot. She stepped back and followed the women outside.
“Now what?” Wendy asked.
“I don’t know,” Suzanne said. “Can you girls hold out okay?”
“God, I don’t know,” Carol said, a sentiment echoed by Diane.
“Well, you can always do what your urge tells you to do in a controlled environment, can’t you? Like Wendy tried to do with her husband.”
Wendy blushed. “That didn’t exactly work out like I had planned.” She explained how Frank had gotten angry when she wanted him to pay for the right to have sex with her.
The women nodded—they completely understood. They knew how powerful their urges had become.
“I probably could’ve given it back afterward,” she said.
“I doubt it,” Carol put in.
“Well, it’s worth a thought,” Suzanne said. “Let’s get together tonight and see what we can come up with. Can we meet at my house? Say seven?”
They agreed and split up, the worry beginning to line their faces. Two of the women were going uptown, one downtown. They offered to share cabs but Diane said she had some errands to run before she went back to work. All three women eyed her carefully.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” Suzanne warned.
Diane felt as if her friend somehow knew she was naked underneath her skirt. “I’ll be okay,” she quickly assured her.
When the women left, Diane waited a bit then returned to the shop. The shopkeeper smiled when he saw her again, as if he had expected her.
“You’re back.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Uh, Ray. Why do you—”
Without another word, she flipped up her skirt, exposing her wet pussy to him. His mouth came open and then closed suddenly. Diane found herself moving toward him, almost as if she were in a dream. “I really need to talk to the owner,” she cooed, her pussy on fire.
He recovered quickly. A smile came to his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said coyly.
“Would you like to touch it?”
He nodded and stepped from behind the counter.
Diane came close and reached down for his hand. She brought it to her hot core and breathed out when he touched her as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“You’re all wet,” he whispered.
“Yes. And I’ll let you rub it until I come if you’ll give me his phone number.” It was all a game—they both knew she would let him do it anyway for nothing. He could see the lust in her eyes.
Still, he played out their little cha
rade. “He’ll be mad. He might not bring me anything else to sell.”
“Trust me, he’s waiting for my phone call, I can assure you.”
His fingers began moving in small circles around her clit. Diane nearly came right then. With effort, she stilled his hand. “The name and phone number,” she insisted.
The man grinned and made her heart melt. “I’d like to do more.”
She glanced down and saw the bulge in his pants. Diane almost whimpered with desire. “Okay, but I control how it’s done, all right?”
He nodded.
The man went back behind the counter and found a tin index card box. He rummaged through it until he came up with a card. “Peter O’Grady.” He rattled off the phone number. Diane wrote it down on one of her business cards.
“Okay. Your turn.”
“Come here, sit down on this chair.” She pointed to a folding chair sitting next to the display case. She turned it so the back was to the front door, not fifteen feet away.
He looked puzzled. “But what if someone comes in?”
Diane shivered with delight. “Yes, that would be horrible, wouldn’t it? Come. Sit. Do you have a condom?”
He shook his head.
“Wait. I think I do.” She rummaged through her purse and found one, lost among the debris on the bottom.
“Come.” He sat and she reached down to unbuckle his pants. His cock was invitingly hard. She unwrapped the condom and slipped it over his erection, her hands shaking. Spreading her legs, she straddled him and pulled her skirt out of the way. He stared at her damp, hot pussy. She used her fingers to spread herself open for him, giving him a good show, then eased herself down on his cock. Her wet pussy made the passage easy. When she was fully seated, she could look outside through the glass door and see people walking by. Her fingers went to her blouse and unbuttoned it, exposing her bra. If they only knew just inside the door, a semi-naked woman was riding a man’s cock. She rocked up and down, rubbing his shaft hard against her clit.
“Oh god!” she cried. The sensation was wild! She’d never felt this good before. Diane increased her speed and felt the man responding beneath her.
Suddenly through the door, she watched as an older woman in a wide-brimmed hat turned out of the sidewalk traffic and entered the shop. The bell above the door jingled.
Exotika 08 - Private Daydreams Page 4
