WAS I IN A DIFFERENT PLACE?

As my mind is trying to focus, my body has become limp as a two ton sack. I want to move my arms so as to indicate to myself that I still have them. It seems like my entire body has disappeared on itself and I just can't move. My eyes are roaming around my bedroom as if to locate things familiar to me. I see my dresser, then I see a mirror reflecting a painting that I have hanging on the opposite side of the wall across from it. It glistens and makes light bounce onto another wall, but there is light all around me regardless, and I don't know where it's coming from. I suddenly am able to move my legs, but only separating them not very far apart from each other. With a cloud of whiteness that's all around me, my body felt torn apart from a beautiful man that took total control of me, and took every ounce from me, body, mind and soul. I knew this was only the beginning of what this man had to give, and I wanted more. He was capable of doing greater things and I wanted all he could do to me.

Was I in a different place? I felt so strange. It was like dejavue all over again. My phantom lover comes to visit me from what appears to be a face that forms from my ceiling above, as I gaze at all the intricate spots only to form a face that stares at me, connecting into a body that enters me with the greatest force only a phantom can give. He seeks me out like prey in a jungle, ready for the jugular, and ready to pounce. I seek him more and more, but he comes only at will, when it's only good for him. Perhaps he's visiting other woman whom he makes his prey as well, and comes back when he wants to rip you apart. He has no face, then shows himself as beautiful and handsome as can be, he has no voice, yet speaks poetically that puts you in a trance and leaves you only with thoughts of what no other man can do. Suddenly, I hear someone speaking, but it's not anyone in the room with me. It's coming from my living room, and I immediately realize it's the t.v. Did I leave it on?

Before I know it, I'm up out of my bed, and staring at the television. I didn't know how I got to the living room so fast. I notice a face that look's familiar, only to realize he was the man who came into my apartment not very long ago, and confessed to me how he killed a man and dumped his body into a cardboard box. The odd thing I remember is that he didn't have any blood on his shirt or anywhere else on him. I remember saying how he was sitting on the edge of my bed, swaying back and forth, thinking he would slip right off and fall. He left with some coaxing, yearning to stay longer. I insisted that he leave and was relieved he did so. His confession to me was erie, yet with hearing all the secrets I've heard for so long from so many men, so many horrible ones that I've learned to keep and not tell, I was glad to see this horrible person caught.

As I walk back into my bedroom, I suddenly feel sick. I felt disconnected somehow and wondered if my phantom lover was still there waiting for me. Was he there? Has he left? I suddenly feel like I'm floating, and find myself at my bedroom window looking out and seeing him at the sidewalk waving up at me. I wave back, wanting him to not leave, and feeling so terribly sad. Then I turn to my bed and with much surprise, I see him there smiling at me. As I look outside my window again, I see no one, and climb into my bed again feeling his strong body. "I would never leave you", he said to me. I cuddle up close to him and and I feel his strong body close to mine. Yet it's as if we both weren't really there, as if we were both invisible. Within minutes I fell asleep.

HE FINALLY RETURNS

If you're dreaming, do you know it while you're dreaming? I remember resting my exhausted head on my pillow right before I had examined myself in a most thorough and satisfying way just moments before. I began to see light's of all different colors, of which I haven't got a clue from where they were coming from. There was music in the background, thinking my neighbors were being a little inconsiderate with their CD player. I thought of getting up and checking out the noise, but I kind of liked it, after all, it was just music, a strange and melodic type of music that was very nice and quite soothing. It wasn't anything I had heard before, and couldn't get over how soothing and even enchanting it was. As I rolled over, I could see it was daylight. Suddenly, my bedroom seemed to turn dark.

Thing's didn't seem to make sense, the strange music, daylight time when it was still dark outside, different colored lights in my room, strange music, and feeling quite content. Then darkness all around me. What was happening? I was way too comfortable to question anything, so I wanted to fall back to sleep when I noticed a form of some sort looking at me. Maybe someone came in? But didn't I lock the door last night? I didn't care, as I turned again, lying flat on my back, then arching my back tightly, protruding the entire front of my lean body to bulge out, stretching my form with my head going almost as far back as I could possibly bring it. My arms were stretched out from side to side, my hands clutching the sheets, with my legs spread open, only to bring them together again as if I was making 'angels' in the snow. I kept my body strong and tight, keeping it lifted. With my back still arched, as if lifted by ropes, you could have slid a large enough object underneath me without touching me. I kept myself in this position, as if it were some weird exercise. I could feel my breasts pretty much stay in place, and my belly began pumping up and down like a sexual flow of movement every time I took a breath. I don't know what came over me, but again, I felt so much comfort, even in this pose I was keeping. I felt like I wanted to yell out with satisfaction. I now bent my arms, but just a little bit. My head lifted forward, but not much. I wanted, no, I needed Dan to look at me, to look at my outstretched body. I felt like I was beginning to pulsate. All my limbs, all my muscles were beginning to shake, yearning for Dan to see every bit of me. My pose froze with desire.

The light turned from daylight to night in a flash and I didn't know why or what was happening. All I knew was that I needed my pulsating body to feel released, exhilarated. Without an explanation, the form that was looking at me was indeed examining my nude body, still in pose, his eyes lurking at every inch of my breasts, resting his hand on my belly. His eyes flowed downward, examining every bit of me. Suddenly, my outstretched arms wanted to move but couldn't. I felt like they were tied, but I knew they weren't. This man, or whatever it was that was looking at me from above my bed moved me on my side. My arms were now positioned above my head, and I felt his tongue run down my back to the inside of my thighs, licking me very seductively. His touch made my vagina wet, and although not knowing this man, and not knowing how he even got into my bedroom was suddenly not a concern. It should have been but it wasn't. He didn't speak, as if he was mute. He then turned me face up, allowing me to see his eyes. He was starring at me at very close range. He began talking to me but I couldn't hear him. He got in front of me, straddling me, putting his hands on each side of my upper torso, clutching my sides, feeling my rib cage, gliding his hands up and down upon them. He rested his head on my chest, kissing me between my breasts, then taking each one of them as if they were each luscious fruit to be devoured into his mouth.

As he talked to me, I could see his lips moving, saying words, but again, I couldn't hear him. How couldn't I hear what he was saying? He was right there in front of me, and yet I didn't hear a word. My breasts were being fondled, sucked and felt by him, and I wanted more. He brought himself upward, and I could see his sexual body, his form exquisite, with abdominals like I've never seen before. So ripped, so perfectly formed. He let me see him, knowing how I was enjoying him. My arms were now free, untied like I felt them to be earlier, and so I stroked his belly, feeling every muscle in his stomach as best as I could. I pressed into his waistline, digging my finger into his navel, feeling his outie. His penis was erect, but not ready to put inside of me yet. His long dark hair was down to his shoulders, and he was breathing heavily. He now turned me onto my side, then picking me up and putting me up against him. He now kissed my lips with passion, licking them, and biting me with desire. He layed me down facing him. He pressed my entire front body with his, this time feeling and messaging my belly with strokes so sensual that I could have cum based on that alone. His finger went into my navel now as I did to him, and was engrossed in all my crevasses, like a map of the human body, exploring every inch there is to feel, see, kiss, caress, and everything else his mouth, hands and penis could and did do. He again took his finger and pressed the edge of my belly button, all around the circumference, circling around it, then entering it again with his tongue, sucking it. It felt strange and sensual, as it made me quiver as he was doing it. He then put his finger in it again, feeling every inch of the 'coils' of my outie, the folding of the skin that makes it protrude out. He was in fact 'fucking my navel' and I loved every second of it. He paid attention to all things a woman loves a man to do, with his face now between my thighs, sucking them, only to lead his mouth on my clitoris that made me scream with pleasure that was unbearable, crazy and insane.

His kisses were insatisable, sliding his tongue over my lips, sucking them gently. Our tongues ran down each others faces, cradling the side of his face, and kissing his cheeks with softness and his lips with vigor. My vagina was now so wet and throbbing, I felt juices running onto the side of my thighs, and down my legs. His erect huge penis now entered me, feeling like a coke bottle in full throttle. Every thrust was like pushing a cannon into me, and it was big and hard and I screamed with joy of having such a man inside me, moving so fast and furious, so intense that we both fell off the bed. He never fell out of me, and we moved with hard thrusts so hard and dynamic that I thought the neighbors would call the police any second now. He lifted me back into bed, gently not disturbing entrance he had precisely waited for. He moved so perfectly inside me as to hit my clit with his cock, as I was screaming for him not to stop. His hands were gripping my ass, as if to rip my skin apart, and the sides of my legs as they were lifted up as high as they could reach. I wrapped my legs around his neck, gripping him as tightly as he was holding on to me. His moans were loud and clear and his facial features told the story of a man who had every muscle in his body tightened up so hard, withering into a euphoria that took his breath away every time he thrusted that big cock into me over and over again. This was not just to my body, but he spoke to my soul, and he could never leave to allow this to only happen once and then go back into thin air, an unknown place he seemed to come from. No, I couldn't allow this.

Was I dreaming? Was this reality? Was this really happening to me? It was as real as anything I had done, felt or experienced before, but, the reality I had experienced in the past with my 'phantom' had been real too, only to disappear and only to come at will. I could never find him, I could never track him down, or catch up with him after we briefly spoke that evening when he told me he was a new neighbor living above me when in truth, there was no upper floor above me. Even after we made such passionate love, he would vanish and not come back. So, was this another meeting again? Was this just another delightful yet made up dream that seemed to be real but really wasn't? I wanted an answer but all I could do was to hang on to this moment and not let it go. I was afraid the moment I close my eyes I would 'wake up' and he would be gone like it happened in the past. What was going on with me?

He was still pushing hard inside me as I now found myself facing downward, with sheets wet with saliva dripping from my mouth. I was moving vehemently with him like a mating ritual deep inside a jungle, holding me in place with his hands on my sides, clutching me on my waist and hip, his fingers working their way into my skin. The pressure is so great that I reach to touch the lower part of my belly and feel his dick through it. I can only yell out with each thrust as I keep my ass in position, then falling onto our sides, cumming with seizure like jerks, shaking and flapping around like lam seals just harpooned, vocalizing with loud strange sounds, with uncontrollable motions, gasping for our last breath.

I found his large arms wrapped around me, as we lay there on my bed filled wet with sweat and cum that filled my insides. I could feel him breathing against my body. He was taking deep breaths, slowly calming down from our lustful and what seemed insatiable acts of pleasures that needed to be repeated. I wanted to move just a little, rearranging my legs that were wrapped around his, but so afraid if I made a slight move he would disappear.

As I went to turn around facing his muscular body, my hands felt his wonderful chest, stomach and thighs as I eased my way downward to gaze at his marvellous penis. I took it gently, stroking it softly, and proceeded to put it in my mouth. It was delicious. It was big, and it was getting hard. I was in a zone I can't really explain. I felt myself in a dream like state, and afraid of waking up from it. Things still didn't seem to make sense. Things around me were so different that although I knew where I was, it felt as if I was somewhere else. I began sucking his penis with all the gentle force I had, and he woke up with sounds of pleasure I wanted to hear. He was saying, 'baby, I love this, don't stop, please don't stop', and started to move with my mouth, only for him to cum with great force that made me cum as well. With his penis in my mouth, I moved thrusting myself against the sheets that were between my legs, positioned so it would rub up against my vagina. It worked.

I wanted to see his eyes again, and I could now hear him talk. I wanted his face staring in mine. As I moved upward, I felt his thighs against my breasts, my hands sliding up his rib cage, then moving them forward, feeling his chest again and his shoulders. He was so strong. He just lye there with his eyes closed, and I was happy to know I was looking at this person, this being who had been staring at me from above my bed and not knowing how he got in my apartment to begin with. Was I delusional? Then I realized the 'music' wasn't playing anymore. There was a strange silence in the room, and saw the room fill with smoke like substance. It was so unclear. It was like the room had become 'foggy' and everything around me was so unfamiliar. Was I in my own bedroom? Where was I? I clenched onto the man in my bed, only for him to feel him slide downward and give me a wonderful treat as I did him. His tongue was now gently on my clitoris, and exploring my vagina with intense movement. He then roamed his fingers through my pubic hair, and told me how beautiful it felt. I couldn't take it any longer. He was all over it, his fingers, his entire mouth, making me shake with violent jerks. His finger touched me in just the right spot, continually stroking the very top part of my clit, while his tongue was in and out of me. He would then suck my entire vagina as I wither away, drinking my juices that ran out of me. I cried out, as if crying out for help, and it was as if my body was lifted to a different place.

THE PRELUDE TO SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

I hate when anything goes wrong in my apartment, which I have to admit, hardly ever does. There was a leak in my kitchen sink, and I could only deal with the constant dripping sound for so long. My solution to this problem was to call Charlie, the maintenance man, and he could fix anything! After my mental excursion of Dan and myself, I noticed it wasn't too late to call to get this damn drip serviced. So, I call Charlie, only for him to come up and fix it in record time. He's so nice this Charlie. Very good hearted, not a bad bone in his body. Good guy. I thank him, and as he leaves, he's reminding me my deadbolt lock should be changed as it doesn't work so good. It misses a hinge, or something or other, and won't lock properly to secure the door from some one getting in. It would probably surprise innocent Charlie that I don't lock my door, not even the smaller lock. I keep my door open, so if he knew this, he would I'm sure, ponder why in the world a woman would purposely keep her freak'n door unlocked!

Glad to have this fixed as I am now with silence without any dripping sound whatsoever. Good. Now I can hear my thoughts without interruption. It's late enough, so I decide to go to bed. As I gaze at my nude body in the mirror, I don't want to see imperfections, but see the good instead as do my visitors, and look at my silhouette from head to toe. Not too shabby I tell myself. Gee, I can always pleasure myself, a thing I usually don't do, but yet more often then you would think.

What's the reality of Dan showing up this evening, I ask myself. I'm just tormenting my own head, and perhaps a part of my body that's for a change a part that's inside my chest. My heart. So I go to bed with nice thoughts of a man that may or may not call me. This evening in particular, I lock my door and I go to bed, but first not without feeling my own body parts that looked quite good in the mirror. I had posed nude for several magazines in the past, nice magazines, not the nasty ones, and was told I had an extremely nice body. Those thoughts stayed with me, and began to touch my breasts softly, then harder to get the full understanding of all the muscle tone inside them that made them so firm and luscious . Leading downward to my soft flat belly, it amazed me how I hardly ever worked out, not doing a crunch in my life. I could feel the muscles through my soft skin, moving my own hand down to my thighs, then my inner thighs, and into a passage that allowes pleasure for whoever I allow to go in. I enter myself with easy entrance, as I'm wet with desire, if only Dan was here to make it perfect. I think of his big wonderful cock inside me, and with only a few hard touches, strokes, and enough pressure to secure an orgasm, of course, nothing in comparison with what Dan has done to me in the past, I cum to my own body in the mirror, happy to see myself yelling out with pleasure only I can appreciate.

I wanted to do it again, so looking at my form, my legs, my thighs, my breasts so round and real, so soft to the touch, so delectable to suck, and knowing what Dan was missing, perplexed me on how he can stay away for so long. I began to rock myself while I straddled the empty bed, as if someone was beneath me. I placed something hard enough to touch my soft and lovely area to bring me to another orgasm that was positioned correctly to do so, touching all the right spots, and looking at myself with all the facial distortions of pleasure that would make me feel drained and satisfied. If only just temporarily. I now circumed to submission onto my soft pillow and sateen sheets that partially covered my nude wet body, and fell fast asleep.

QUENCHING THE INSATIABLE

Quenching insatiable desires are nothing but performing sexual acts consisting from simple things to examining everything and doing almost anything to 'get off''. Sometimes it can't be satisfied no matter what's done, and how great the climax. It's never enough, and dealing with erotica in it's highest and most unusual form can sometimes be not only sexual, but ugly and even horrifying.

A platter of food was once served up at a party I attended, consisting of blue berries, whip cream, bananas, strawberries, lady fingers, and then.....wires that had electrical clamps on the ends. The clamps had a felt like material inside them, as for connecting to a body part, it wouldn't hurt the way it shouldn't, but hurting when it should. The trick to this sick act was to feel the jolt of electricity run throughout your entire body when connected to a body part without being electrocuted. This was a fantasy for some, and with precision, could bring orgasms that would go on for fifteen minutes if not longer at a time. The body would shake uncontrollably, and would eventually knock the person out for taking so much out of them. The food is inserted into ones private parts, and sucked out my a persons mouth, and perhaps eaten.

A handsome man in his early 40's, with a very sexy body had clamps connected to the head of his penis. He was tied to a pole with his arms stretched over his head in a lying down position. He was then massaged all over his nude body with hot oil, then more clamps were attached to other parts of him as well. A switch was turned on, and he went into orgasmic seizures that could have killed him.

He just lye there limp and dead like, with sweat dripping all over him, penetrating through the oil that smeared his entire body. He was pathetic, as he then yelled out for more. You really wanted to call an ambulance for this man and have him committed to some mental institution, but some people are so strange that you either give them what they want or you don't deal with their needs that can perhaps kill them. Or even worse, kill you.

So, with my mood being now a little somber to say the least, I rested my head against my large soft pillow, reminiscing of Dan, the man who I admit, 'got' to me. My thoughts of a sexual intanglement with him was an exciting, even soothing thought to ponder. Not that any of the above forementioned activities had anything to do with Dan and myself. Oh well, time had passed and I hadn't yet seen or even heard from him. It had been week's since he called, and although he was supposed to call me later that evening, it would come to pass that the evening came and went without the phone ringing, adding up to be weeks since hearing his voice. If only Dan could come over and soothe my aching body. To touch my skin, to massage my aching back, to run his miraculous hands down my thighs, grabbing my sides to push me close to him, to insert his member into me, to move inside me like he did in the past, to look deeply into my eyes, while feeling his strong muscular back, feeling every part of him, and knowing he would be there, sleeping next to me, only to ravish him again in the early morning hours.

A MURDERER SHOWS UP

You don't just hope a dream returns and then presto, you go to bed that night and you start dreaming of what you dreamt about the night before all over again. Well, all I can do is hope that one evening when I lie my head down on my soft pillow, when I feel my soft sheets covering my body as I lay on my bed, I will fall asleep into slumber land and dream of my European voyage that led me into the narrow alley ways of a place I want to return to. So much for that.

The other night, a visitor showed up looking all wired and thought he was just high. As time took it's toll, he revealed something to me that made me think I could be a part of what took place just a few hours prior to entering my apartment, 'by association', I guess you can say. He looked a mess, but I usually don't really care what someones clothes look like, but as he started to 'unravel' he was boasting how he stabbed someone to death, then robbed him and made off with the guys money and dumped the body in a big cardboard box. I just sat there with my eyes wide out and my mouth dropped to the floor. And now he was here? It was odd that he didn't have any blood on him. So, was he making it up? This wasn't the time to find out. This guy was messed up more then I thought and he had to leave. I played it off like I was about to get a phone call and that it was urgent I get it and to take of care of a problem I was dealing with and I needed to be alone to do so. He at first told me he wasn't leaving, at least not so soon. I got concerned, so I made a quick call to a friend who knows what to do when a situation should begin to get out of hand. Without many words, I hung up the phone.

I'm sitting there with this man who is now swaying back and forth on the edge of my bed, assuming any minute now he will fall and bust his head wide open. Maybe that would be good, this way at least I would drag him out or something. So I casually get to the door, open it and ask him to leave as 'my friend' is now showing up any minute. As previously mentioned, I am the 'secret keeper'. Many of my visitors have told me secrets that would never leave my apartment, never revealed from these lips, but this, this was maybe the exception to the rule, a murder just committed, where the murderer himself has entered my apartment and now left with all the bad energy that infultraded my space. So what do I do? Do I keep quiet, do I tell? Telling would mean to call the police and have this guy arrested. But, if I do this, would he know who ratted him out? And was it true to begin with? If so, he knows where I live. He can always come back. I can be his next victim. So I shut up and say nothing. I just hope life brings his victim to justice, and hope my visitor gets what he desevers.

There was no playing, no fun and games with this sicko that just left my apartment, and thanking the heavens above he left willingly and without a problem. What if he didn't want to leave? What if he made an issue of staying longer then I wanted him to? I called my friend and told him things were cool, that a potenial problem staring into my eyes, perhaps a victim himself had left. Just another day in the life of Ava in apt.9? Perhaps.

DREAM COME BACK

It was time for me to dream again, to be in a place I had never been to except in my beautiful dream that was too real to be fake, and too mystical to be reality. For my own reality was made up of lies, games, fakery, a revolving door that never closed, and an unfinished dream that I was long overdue to have.

For some crazy reason, I began to analize my apartment by standing in the middle of my living room, and seeing how quiet and peaceful this place could be when I wanted it to be. It was simple and to the point, and I liked it that way. With peaceful simplicity, far from what goes on in there, you would never think it was a haven for visitors, a place for them to pay and play, a palace for short lived dreams that came true, then end within hours from their beginning. So what was so bad that I needed to get back to my dream?






I would look around in apt. 9, and gaze at it's every being. Slowly turning and looking at every piece of everything there. The furniture, the t.v., the light pinkish walls, and the few pictures that hung on them. All I could see was black and white and and I liked it that way. My life wasn't colorful, it was anything but, although most anyone would think just the opposite. I have a yearn for what I do, and I as yet can't figure out why I'm ok with it. So I continue to look all around me, liking what I see, and yet with what I allow to go on inside here, who I allow to enter, it was yet a haven for me as well as my visitors that felt comforting with no one there but myself. All alone. Plain and simple. At that very moment, there were no lies being told, no pretending, no open door, just me with peace that had come over me. Yet I needed my dream back. It was rarely in black and white. It was full of color that enchanted me, a world so different from mine that I needed at this very moment. So again I ask myself, if I was ok with my life and what I do, then what's the need for this dream? Perhaps an excape? But from what?