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Legacy of the Witch House (TheCorsair and Xanaphia)

“Is this your cat?” Marta fairly cooed, crouching and stroking big the animal’s back. “Isn’t she precious?”

“That’s Schrodinger,” he laughed. “Regulus is off sulking right now, because I decided to get ready for tonight instead of petting her.”

“I can’t have animals in my building,” she sighed, stands by up, “so I am quite jealous.”

“I think it’s the hardwood,” Pete observed, smiling as she slipped her hand into his. “Makes it easier to clean up the pet hair if someone moves out.”

“So, lead the way,” she teased, leaning into him in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “Does the library feed into the study?”

“Well,” he said, trying his best to talk like a docent. He’d dated one for a few months, during his undergrad days, so how hard could it be. “Through here, we find the sitting room...”. A couch facing a wall-mounted television hooked to a computer and an assortment of video game systems by a rat’s nest of cables. “And the study and library are over here..,”. Another large area, marked out by overflowing bookshelves straining to hold a mix of nonfiction and reference and trashy paperback books, and a paper-strewn desk supporting a desktop and a laptop. “The cleaning service is a trifle lax here,” he joked. “And over here is the bedroom.”

“Is this the master bedroom, or just one of the smaller suites?” sh teases.

“The master bedroom,” he said seriously. “Two ancillary bedrooms adjoin this on, reserves for the cats.” He pointed at a large cat bed in the corner. “Although they tend to dispute...”

“I’ve been thinking about getting you in bed all day,” she whispered, her lips disrupting his higher brain functions as they ghosted over his ear. Then she pulled away, and began unpacking their food. “But dinner first, because I am famished. Do you like white wine?”

“White wine is good,” he managed after a couple of false starts. In an effort to collect his thoughts, he retrieved two wine glasses from a cabinet. “And that smells wonderful,” he added, placing them in the table and wrapping his arms around her waist. “The food smells good, too,” he added in a husky whisper, gently kissing the nape of her neck. Then he kissed her again, letting his hands linger on her hips for a moment before drawing away. “But, like you said, we should eat first. Let me grab the plates.”
 
Marta hummed and the giggled, in response to Pete’s kiss and caress, thoroughly enjoying the attention and the affection. Enjoying their connection, and how natural it all felt. As if they hadn’t met barely a day ago.

“So, I feel like I should come clean,” Marta decided, filling the glasses he brought out. “I had been checking you out on social media because… well, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by approaching a man who wouldn’t be interested in me.” Face burning, she occupied herself scooping their meals onto plates and arranging the trimmings.

“It’s the craziest coincidence that we came upon this shared interest of study. And now… I mean, just think about it. We happened upon the biggest scientific discovery of the 21st century, and it’s all because I cyber stalked you.” Forcing herself to laugh now, she took her seat across from him.

“I’m… Well, I’m glad I did. I really like you and… I really needed this.” She reached across the table taking his hand. Finally, she met his eyes, cheeks still flushed from her confession. Then she lifted her wine glass in a toast.

“To Goode Brown, for bring us together.”
 
“I’m kind of flattered, really,” Pete said. “Particularly since I don’t think I’ve embarrassed myself on FaceBook recently.” He scratched his chin. “Unless you saw that argument with my Uncle Earl last week, that is.” A smile. “But I can’t imagine any man not being interested in you.”

He collected silverware as Marta served out the meal. “I mean, you’re smart and sexy. What’s not to love?” A moment later his own cheeks burned as realization sank in. Had he just said that? It had only been one day! She was going to think he was some sort of clingy creep now!

“It’s the craziest coincidence that we came upon this shared interest of study,” she continued, either not noticing what he’d said or mercifully(?) choosing not to remark on it. “And now… I mean, just think about it. We happened upon the biggest scientific discovery of the 21st century, and it’s all because I cyber stalked you.”

He chuckled along with her, taking his seat. “The Brown-Ahn-Rebelo-Perez Trans-Location Equation, which establishes a CS Bridge,” he grinned. “We just won’t tell anyone the CS stands for ‘cyber-stalking’.”

“I’m… Well, I’m glad I did. I really like you and… I really needed this.” She reached across the table taking his hand. Finally, she met his eyes, cheeks still flushed from her confession.

“I... really like you, too,” he answered, looking deep into her eyes. “A lot. And I’m glad you took a chance on emailing me.”

Then she lifted her wine glass in a toast. “To Goode Brown, for bring us together.”

He clinked his glass against hers. “To Goode Brown,” he echoed, sipping his wine. Damn, she even managed to make drinking sexy. “And to us...”

Something brushed his ankle, making his breath catch. Then it happened again, whisper soft. Pulse quickening, he started to work his shoe out of his foot so he could tease her back, when he felt it a third time. A gentle stroke against his ankle, Dubois and purring and furry. A quick glance confirmed his new suspicion. “And to the cats,” he sighed, trying to push Schrodinger away with his toe. “Who seem determined to be part of the evening.”
 
Dinner progressed without any more discussion of the wormhole or 17th-century witches. Which Marta appreciated, enjoying the opportunity to get to know Peter better. So, she shared stories of growing up in the area, and attending undergrad at Brown, before transferring to Miskatonic for her doctorate. Then the conversation turned to hobbies and pop culture and one glass of wine turned to two.

“There isn’t a Nobel prize for history, so the biggest accomplishment I can hope to achieve in my field is that a talented artist writes a smash hit Broadway musical influenced by one of my books,” Marta joked, finishing off her second glass of wine and picking up the mostly empty plates. She rinsed off the dishes, and a pleasant buzz mixed with her budding infatuation. Already, she was trying to plan more excuses to spend time together.

“Do you teach classes on Fridays? I have the day off, but I have a department fundraiser to attend in the evening. I was sort of hoping you’d… well, maybe join me? I’d so owe you one.” She flashed a wishful smile over her shoulder. The dishes went in the dishwasher, and she turned to face him again, “It’s almost too bad two days isn’t enough time to finish up the equations for the wormhole. If we presented something like that, we’d never have to worry about donors again.”

Marta laughed again, time and satisfaction distancing her from the horror of the portal. More and more, she wanted to believe in Peter’s optimist hypotheses, wanted to embrace his vision for the future. Or, perhaps just wanted to embrace him. A desire she acted upon, arms wrapping around his neck to pull them closer together. Her lips met his, soft and exploratory, taking more time to savor Peter, this time.

Sensual memories led to more practical reminders, and when they pulled part, she knew they had to have this conversation now, or it wouldn’t happen at all. “I hope I’m not being presumptuous in thinking we might in end up in bed together tonight. And, well, before we get to that point, I was hoping we could discuss protection, since we weren’t able to discuss it last night… or this morning.” Recollection colored her cheeks, heat building under her skin. “At least for now, I think we should use condoms as contraception because, well… everything else takes a doctor’s appointment, at the very least.”
 
Cats notwithstanding, dinner was delightful. He listened with interest as Marta described growing up in New England, and talked about growing up in a biracial family in Spokane, and pursuing his undergraduate degrees of n Mathematics and Physics at Western Washington University, and earning his Doctorate at UCLA. All of which, he confessed, had been inspired by watching Doctor Who on PBS.

“There isn’t a Nobel prize for history, so the biggest accomplishment I can hope to achieve in my field is that a talented artist writes a smash hit Broadway musical influenced by one of my books,” Marta joked, finishing off her second glass of wine.

Pete finished his glass as well, and poured each of them another. “Seems like Goode Brown would make an awesome subject for one,” he remarked, helping her clear the dishes. “The story of a genius woman declared a witch and sentenced to hang? Timely.”

“Do you teach classes on Fridays?” Marta asked as she rinsed off a dish.

“No. I’ve got office hours from noon to four, but no classes.” He eyed her speculatively. “Why?”

“I have the day off, but I have a department fundraiser to attend in the evening. I was sort of hoping you’d… well, maybe join me? I’d so owe you one.” She flashed a wishful smile over her shoulder.

“No, I’d... well, saying ‘I’d love to’ might be stretching the point, but,” he grinned, “Yeah. Sure.” He paused. “Want to come cheer on the Math and Physics Departnent as we take a n the Computer Science departnent in basketball on Saturday?”

She turned to face him again, “It’s almost too bad two days isn’t enough time to finish up the equations for the wormhole. If we presented something like that, we’d never have to worry about donors again.”

“Isn’t that a thought!” he agreed. But then thought fled as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss. He responded eagerly, hand’s resting in the soft black fabric that sheathed her hips. One of them sighed, or maybe both, as tongues lazily explored, and he gasped for breath as she ended the kiss.

“I hope I’m not being presumptuous in thinking we might in end up in bed together tonight,” she murmured.

“I’d hoped we would,” he smiled, kissing her gently. When he tried to deepen it, though, her hands flattened against his chest and pushed a little.

“And, well,” she stammered, a crimson flush highlighting her cheekbones, “before we get to that point, I was hoping we could discuss protection, since we weren’t able to discuss it last night… or this morning.”

“Prote...”. He stopped the word as he realized what she was saying. “Oh. Oh, shit.” He stroked her cheek. “I... I was so caught up in, well, what we were doing, I didn’t even think.”

“At least for now, I think we should use condoms as contraception because, well…” she made an uncertain little gesture, “everything else takes a doctor’s appointment, at the very least.”

“Damn, yeah.” He scratched his head, thinking. He still wanted her, but the reminder about protection had cooled him off. Just a little. “I, uhm, don’t have any. It’s been a while, and my last, that is...”. Damnit! He was making a fool of himself. “I can, uhm, go buy some. If, uh, you want. I mean.”
 
“I brought them. Bought them, with the wine. But umm… ” Marta pulled away, reaching for the bag and pulling out the box.

“Well, I’m not sure about the one I got. I don’t think I’ve ever bought them before, and there are so many different kinds, and brands and, I don’t even know what kind you like and…” She forced herself to laugh, trying to hide just how much thought she’d put into this stupid little thing. Trying to hide how much she managed every aspect to feel some semblance of control. “I guess I should have just texted you from the store.”

She handed him the box, and mold herself against him, hoping she hadn’t killed the mood between them. “I also brought a change of clothes, because I really was looking forward to staying the night, and I didn’t want to rush home in the morning.” That was cute, right? Not creepy, or moving too fast or swapping one long-term relationship for another? She offered a sheepish smile, and he returned one of his own. Damn, he was cute. And she was definitely overthinking all of this. “But, maybe I need to get naked first, before I need a change of clothes…”
 
“I brought them. Bought them, with the wine. But umm… ” Marta pulled away, reaching for the bag .

“That’s, uhm, kinda... hot,” Pete said, licking his lips as she pulled out a box and handed it to him. It read ‘Trojan Pleasure Pack’, and appeared to be a veritable Whitman’s Sampler of condoms. “Wow. Uhm...”

“Well, I’m not sure about the one I got. I don’t think I’ve ever bought them before, and there are so many different kinds, and brands and, I don’t even know what kind you like and…” Marta was clearly beginning to babble, clearly feeling as awkward about this conversation as he was. “I guess I should have just texted you from the store.”

“I’m gonna by to be very honest here,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I have no idea which kind I like.” He kissed her, like ngering over the act. “I always sort of went with the ones I could afford, you know?”

“I also brought a change of clothes,” she confessed, burying her face in his chest. “because I really was looking forward to staying the night, and I didn’t want to rush home in the morning.”

Damn if that didn’t go right through him. But it wasn’t just lust, was it? “Good,” he murmured, gently kissing her hair. “I, uhm, I like the idea. Of you not rushing off, I mean.”

She offered a sheepish smile, and he returned one of his own. “But, maybe I need to get naked first, before I need a change of clothes…”

“Maybe,” he agreed, bending down to kiss her once more. His hands caressed her face and trailed lower, gently unwrappingbthe scarf she’d been wearing. “And maybe,” he added as his lips ghosted lower, planting tiny kisses on each of the bruises he’d left on her throat the night before, “ascwe get naked, we should see what we can do without the condoms, too.”

He stopped jut a bit, scooping her up in his arms. Navigating around the screens, he gently maneuvered into the ‘bedroom’, and sat her on the edge of the bed. “You taste so good,” he whispered, leaning into a hungry kiss as he knelt before her. His hands stroked her neck, then traced the skin displayed by the cut of her dress. “I want to taste more of you.”
 
“As we get naked, we should see what we can do without the condoms, too.”

Those words held such temptation, as she remembered how good last night felt, and how much she enjoyed his pleasure inside her, and how much she still craved it. But that was the stupid part of her brain, driven by animal need to fuck Peter and reproduce the species. Instinct, but she couldn’t be driven by instinct, or base urges. It was already hard enough to think around Peter, her mind consumed by deep hunger for him, beyond physical.

“I want to taste more of you.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to deny you a taste,” Marta sighed, open legs inviting him in closer. Fingers combed through his hair, more daring and curious that the day before. Enjoying the building desire, instead of the mad rush to consummation from the night before. “But I want a taste too. I want to savor you, as you savor me. Surely we can both indulge, at the same time?”

Tonight, she undressed him, taking her time on each delicate button. Every inch of his skin was a fascinating discovering, smooth, toned muscles that had already thrilled her so. Fingertips trailing on skin, tracing the map his muscles created on his chest and shoulders, and back. His own hands, just as curious on her own body, were welcome, exciting her sense to his touch. Before long, she peeled away his shirt and he dragged her neckline low enough to expose breasts cupped high in a lacy bra.

Another kiss brought them together, lips and tongues seeking one another’s. Her dress got in the way of feeling his body against her, so she pulled him back up, bidding him to stand as she did. Their bodies caressed as they stood together, and she pulled her hands away from him long enough to reach the hem of her dress and pull it up over he head. Lacy panties matched her bra and left little to the imagination “I want to suck you off,” she breathed, grinding herself against him as enthusiastic fingers worked open his belt, “I want your cock in my mouth, while I ride your face.”
 
He’d only had two glasses of wine, the third was still sitting untouched on the table, but he felt drunk. Drunk on the taste and feel of Marta as she unbuttoned his shirt and explored him with lips and hands. Drunk as he filled his hands with her curves, as he pulled at her neckline and saw the sheer lace that graced her breasts.

She pulled him up then, both rising to their feet so she could gently push him back. He watched entranced as she peeled her dress up her body and over her head, casting it aside. “I want to suck you off,” she breathed, grinding herself against him as enthusiastic fingers worked open his belt, “I want your cock in my mouth, while I ride your face.”

His cock throbbed at the delicious vulgarity. “I want to taste you,” he breathed as she slid his slacks down his hips. He stepped out of them, cradling her face with his hands, tongue exploring the heat of her mouth. “You tasted so fucking good when you came on my tongue last night. I want more.”

His boxers joined his slacks, and her hand was soft and hot as it closed on his cock. He turned her then and gently pushed and pulled her down, landing on the bed in a tangle of limbs. The next few moments were a delicious confusion of skin on skin as they repositioned themselves, Marta’s body smooth and supple against his as her legs slid over his shoulders.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, running his hands over her back and rear. Gentle nips at her inner thigh punctuated his words. “And you taste even better.” Breathing deep of her scent, he caressed her lips with his tongue. “So much better.”
 
Marta inhaled deep, her entire body trembling above his. Remembering last night, remember his skilled ministrations and the bliss that followed. Anticipation grew, craving Peter, and wanting to return the pleasure he inspired in her. Wanting to hear him call out her name in desire and delight.

So lips ghosted over his cock, drinking in his masculine scent. Tracing and exploring the veins and bulges along his shaft, and enjoying the way he twitched in response. Her tongue emerged next, licking from the base to the head, before taking him in her mouth. Lips tightened around his head, and she eased herself down his length.

She wanted to take her time, to tease him sensually, until he begged her, but his tongue felt so good inside her. Fucked, she wanted more, which lead to sucking him more, deeper and faster and following the saliva that drooled from her lips. Moans dripped over his cock, appreciative sounds for his attentive affection.

“Fuck, Peter… that feels so good…” she gasped, stroking him with her hand as she tried to get a grip on her ecstasy. Her climax crested, burning bright on her nerves, but she wanted him to join her in rapture. Needed him to join her. So she drove herself back down his cock, challenging herself to swallow every inch of him. Fuck, it wasn’t easy, not as bliss tingled on her skin, and deep within her. But dammit, she needed him as mad for her as she was for him, as drunk on lust and passion. Her lips kissed the base of his cock, taking his thick head in her throat, when nirvana broke within her. Nails dug into his thighs, lost in her pleasure and desperate to share it with him.
 
Pete let his hands wander at first, exploring the exciting landscape of Marta’s body. Nails dragged over her skin, tracing patterns on the small of her back, before he stroked the length of her spine as far as he could reach. As he did his tongue caressed the lips of her pussy, savoring her before parting her and tracing a line along her folds.

Marta’s lips and tongue drew a gasp from him as she slowly swallowed his length. In response he slowly pushed his tongue into her, stretching her inner walls with the slippery organ. His hands slid up her back and over her hips, one finger gently teasing the puckered ring of her ass as he pulled her tighter to his mouth. “God... Marta...” he moaned, sucking at her clit before thrusting his tongue into her depths once more.

“Fuck, Peter…” she gasped, her hand creating a delicious friction on his cock as she stroked him, “that feels so good…”

“Marta, God, Marta,” he groaned, teasing her slit with his tongue. “I... fuck... I’m close... Marta...”. Her response was to swallow his full length, gripping his head with her throat as she fucked him deep and hard with her mouth. The sound of his rising pleasure was an agonized whimper, his hips rising to meet her mouth as her lips dragged up and down his length. His fingers dug into her skin, nails leaving crescent marks in her flesh as his tongue delved deeper, hungry to taste her pleasure as his cock grew harder and his balls heavier.

Her orgasm was a clenching of her inner walls on his tongue and a delicious gasping moan. He followed her with a hoarse cry against her flesh, his cock pulsing against her lips, cum flooding her mouth in hot spurts in time with his gasps o ecstasy.

Finally, spent, he let his head drop back onto the mattress. “That,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath, was incredible.”
 
It was few moments of glorious satisfaction, drawing forth each other’s climaxes while savoring their own pleasure. Each of them, hanging on desperately, clinging to one another while lust clung to their lips. Those moments stretched, pulsing and gasping and moaning in time with each other.

Marta crawled up beside Peter, planting light kisses on his smooth skin, before nestling herself into his arms. “I could definitely get used to that.” She kissed her taste from his lips, growing hungrier as her tongue dueled with his, and his hands caressed her curves. When she pulled away to breathe, the look in his eyes, wide and wonderous, disarmed her. She could get used to this, all this. But she couldn’t let herself get hurt again. Not so soon.

“Are… are we moving too fast? Am I crazy? Am I going to scare you away with my neurosis?” Well, Marta, if you have to be crazy, might as well get it out of you while he’s too sated from orgasm to react poorly. With nervous laughter and a sigh, she tried again.

“I’m sorry I just got out of a serious relationship and… Well, I like you a lot, that is a bit unnerving,” Marta snuggled closer, tangled up in his limbs, and the warmth of his skin on hers. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
 
It was pleasant to just lie there, basketball bag in the warmth of Marta’s body melting into his and the taste of their shared pleasure on her lips. “I could definitely get used to that,” she murmured, hands sliding over his bare skin as she kissed him.

“I don’t want to get used to it,” he replied, fingers drifting over her curves as he kissed her back. “I want it this exciting every time.” His tongue slid over hers. “I want to be startled by how good you taste, how goo you feel, every time.”

“Are… are we moving too fast?” She asked, something boding nervous. “Am I crazy? Am I going to scare you away with my neurosis?”

Pete chuckled. “I... don’t know. But,” he gestured at the walls, “I was worried I’d scare you away with the superhero posters and the rap CDs.” That was an exaggeration, of course. The one superhero poster he had was a framed marquee poster from the first Avengers movie, autographed by four cast members.

“I’m sorry,” Marta laughed nervously. “I just got out of a serious relationship and… Well, I like you a lot, that is a bit unnerving,”

“I, uhm, I like you too. A lot.” He wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled in. “Really a lot.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” she said, breath warm on his chest.

“I don’t want to, either,” he smiled, stroking her hair. He laid there for a moment, listening to her breathe. “My last serious relationship was... what? Five years ago? I was working on my dissertation, an you know how hard it is to do anything while you’re doing that, and Chan got a chance to pursue her Masters at Cambridge, and it just sort of... died.” He grimaced at the memory. “Maybe I’m not the best at relationships myself, but I know this...”

He rolled into his side, kissing her again as he did. “I certainly want to see where this goes.”
 
It seemed they wouldn’t get to try out the condoms tonight, as Marta yawned. They had woken up early this morning, and had a long day, all told. Besides, the contentment of her last orgasm weighed heavy on her, and it was far too easy to close her eyes, for just a moment. Moments blending into other moments, and stretching into the night.

Dreams were a vague, yet pleasant tangle of limbs. Since she’d fallen asleep wrapped around Pete, she expected to explore his figure in her dream, but was surprised to discover soft curves instead. Hands explore her too, and it was hard to tell how many sets traced invisible lines in her skin, or brush over her curves. Somehow, she ended up lying on her back, as the feminine figure crawled over her body. Fragrant heat hovered over her face, and smooth thighs brush her cheeks. With a hungry tongue, she licked this mysterious dream lover.

She’d never forget Nkendi’s taste, and despite the way things ended between them, she still craved it. Still craved her, pulling her ex’s shapely figure closer to her hungry mouth. Nkendi reciprocated, teasing her throbbing clit with a talented tongue. Fuck, it was as if things had never changed between them, never fallen apart.

That is, until a Nkendi stopped teasing her for a moment, and a thick cock replaced her ex-lover’s tongue. She gasped against Nkendi’s folds, objections leaving her mind with each deep stroke. Pleasure beget pleasure, and the rhythmic momentum inside her inspired Marta to fuck Nkendi in unison. Two fingers slid into her tight channel, and Marta’s tongue circled her clit, relishing in Nkendi’s clenching responses.

“Cum,” she murmured, unsure which of her lovers she was speaking to, and not caring which acted upon it. “Cum while I do…”
 
Sleep stole in on him in stages, slowly lengthening the time between kisses and slowing the gentle exploration of hands and lips until it seemed he was wrapped in a comfortable dark blanket of velvet and fog. His dreams, when they cane, wet as vivid as always. Vivid and, this time, unsettling.

He stood on a brittle-looked by riverbank if some metallic blue crystal, watching a sluggish river of some silvery fluid wind it’s way past and beyond, flowing towards some unguessable destination. Spidery nodules erupted from the ground, skeletal stalks flexing like claws reaching towards a black sky lit by unwinking diamond chips of starlight.

This, he decided, fascinated, would make a hell of an observatory site.

“Hey, lover.”

Because of the logic of dreams, he wasn’t surprised to find Chantelle when he turned. Or to find them both naked, or to find that she was every bit as sexy in his dreams as in memory. “Hey, Chan,” he said, smiling.

She took his hand. “This isn’t a good place,” she said, and the dream began to blur around Nd him as she pulled gently. “Let’s go somewhere warmer.” And then they were in Marta’s bedroom, his old lover staring at his new lover’s naked form with a curious mixture of lust and affection.

Dreams were curious things, weren’t they.

Chan slid into the bed, winking at him and running a dark hand over Marta’s bare stomach. “Always wanted to try this with you.”

That was certainly true. Chantelle had teased him mercilessly about trying a threesome. They’d even played games about it, using sex Ty’s to simulate a third partner. But both of them had been picky, and they’d never found a third they could agree on. But his dream was trying to make up for lost opportunities now, as Chan straddled Marta and hungrily kissed her awake. Their bodies moved together, hands and lips and tongues exploring.

Pete joined them on the bed, crouching between their legs, hands squeezing Chan’s round ass as his tongue explored both Marta’s and Chan’s slits. The flavors of their arousals mingled on his lips, making him hungrier for them both. “Oh... oh fuck...” Chan gasped, arching her back to offer Marta her breasts. “Fuck... you’re good.”

Chan rotated, knees resting on the mattress as she straddled Marta’s face. She moaned as Marta’s tongue filled her, leaning forward to kiss Pete greedily. He returned the kiss, cupping by a firm breast and gripping a fistfull of kinky dark hair. Chan’s dark hand closed on his cock, stroking the hard shaft. She maintained her grip as she slid down, her tongue playing over Marta’s clit.

Pete reluctantly pulled himself from her grip, crouching to join her. The two tongues explored Marta’s cunt, sometimes together and sometimes not, wringing delighted muffled gasps from Marta’s throat that we’re echied by Chan’s sighs of pleasure. And when he kissed her, the taste of Marta’s juices on Chan’s lips and tongue was intoxicating.

“Fuck her,” Chan breathed. “I want to taste your cock in her.” When h rise up she gripped his meat, guiding it against her dripped no lips. And when he pushed into her, his reward was the feel of her slick heat parting around him and Chan’s tongue lapping her juices from him. He began stroking, long and hard and deep, putting in a show for Chan as he tried to drag pleasure from Marta.

Chan cried out as Marta thrust two fingers into her, her nails digging into both Narta’s and Oete’s flesh. “Cum,” Marta demanded. “Cum while I do…”

Chan climaxed. She’d always had quiet orgasms, but he’d felt her get off on him often enough to recognize the signs. The way her expression ightened and she lip her lip, the little whimpers she made, the way her body moved as she tried to drag out the sensation linger. Pete leaned forward, and the dream began to melt. Chan was gone and Narta’s hands were tangled in his hair and gripping big his back, and her thighs gripped his hips and her ankles locked round his legs. “Cum with me,” she moaned, eyes glassy with pleasure and slow waking, and he had just enough time to think shit, the condoms before his balls tightened.

And then it was too late.

He thrust deep one last time, crying out in pleasure as his orgasm broke. His fingers gripped her hip and shoulder as he cried out with the intensity of his pleasure, lost in the feel of Marta’s walls gripping and squeezing his cock, milking his cum from him in hot jets as he greedily drank her own sounds of ecstasy from her lips.

“Uhm...” he gasped stupidly, breathing hard. “Uh... good morning?”
 
In the act of climax, Marta could hardly discern one dream lover from another, pulling the nearest body closer to her. A firm chest flattened her breasts, and her fingers ran through short, slick hair. Not Nkendi, then. But Marta didn’t care so much as passion gripped her, gripping her lover in turn with silken muscles and strong thighs.

“Cum with me,” she moaned, unconscious of what she was asking, uncaring about the consequences. It was, after all, just a dream. A hot, vivid dream, with sweat-slick skin slithering over her own, and frantic friction splitting open her soaking slit. Then, as her orgasm peaked, his lust joined hers, filling her with liquid heat. Then, blinking, all pretense of the dream faded away.

“…Peter?” she whispered, he lover still buried half-hard inside her. His cum hot as it coated her tight channel. Fuck, it felt good. But… Shit, it wasn’t supposed to feel good. She wasn’t supposed to feel it at all. They were supposed to use condoms, so she wouldn’t have to worry about an accidental pregnancy. Did Peter do this on purpose?

“Uhm...” he gasped, breathing hard. “Uh... good morning?”

“Hey,” she acknowledged, still beneath him. No, he seemed as surprised as she was to wake up mid-coitus. Maybe she’d initiated it, because of her lust drunk dreams? But he was on top of her. Just as he would have been in her dream. “How did we… um…” Marta laughed nervously and clenched against Peter in the process. “I mean, did I? Or, uh…”

The worst part was, he felt so goddamn good inside her. She wanted to go again, wanted to feel him fuck her again and again, until she drained him dry. Stupid, stupid animal brain. “Do you know how we ended up like…this?”
 
“How did we… um…” Marta laughed sounding as nervous and awkward as he felt. “I mean, did I? Or, uh…”. She paused, looking clung her lips. “Do you know how we ended up like…this?”

“I... uhm...”. Pete hesitated. What had happened? He’d been dreaming, and then he one up, and... shit. Had he raped her? Had she wanted this? “I.,,”

Biting his lip, he rolled to one side and laid next to her. “I was, uhm, having dinner be hell of a dream,” he finally balky said. “I’ve always, as long as I remember, been a really vivid dreamer. Lucid dreaming, I’ve heard it called. And, it was a goddamn hot dream.” And it was about my last girlfriend fucking you with me he decided not to say. “And...”

Fuck, the more he thought about it the worse he felt. “I... shit. I never meant... I mean... I didn’t, didn’t hurt you. Did I? I never, never wanted to, to force you, or hurt you, and...”. And his breath caught, fear and self-loathing clenching his throat tight.
 
“No!” she insisted, cupping his face in her hands. With a laugh and smile, she tried reassuring him. “No, you didn’t hurt me or anything like that. I’m pretty sure a mindblowing orgasm is the opposite of that, really.” A sheepish laugh left her lips, embarrassment that stood at odds with the fact they were still nude in bed together, his cum trickling down her thighs. “No, I really liked it, which is part of the problem. I crave you, and I crave the way you feel inside me. Maybe my biological clock and my better sense are at odds.”

As soon as she said it, she blanched. Shit Marta, talking babies on the second night? Are you trying to scare him away? Was this orgasm enough to keep him from flipping out? “Not like I am trying to get pregnant. The opposite, really. I mean, I hardly know you, other than the fact that you’re brilliant and incredible in bed and sexy as hell and…” Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“Maybe… maybe it was just the wine. I was having a really hot dream as well.” Licking her lips, she could almost taste Nkendi. Would Peter be down for a threesome? Was there a guy alive who wasn’t? The thought went through her, make her stomach coil as she imagined it. Remembered the dream, of Nkendi licking her while Peter stroked deep and hard. Damn, she wanted him again, while he cum lubricated her cunt. “I just want you to know I’m not mad or upset in any way. It’s damn impossible to think rationally around you.”
 
By slow stages he felt himself relax under Marta’s reassurance. However it had happened, she considered what they’d done consensual. It made him feel like an ass, though. She didn’t think she’d been raped, so he felt better? Fuck. What kind of a man was he? “No, I really liked it, which is part of the problem. I crave you, and I crave the way you feel inside me. Maybe my biological clock and my better sense are at odds.”

“That’s, uhm, I like the way you feel too. On me, and against me, and... huh?” Biological clock?

She looked aghast as well. “Not like I am trying to get pregnant,” she stammered our, words to my bag over each other in her haste. “The opposite, really. I mean, I hardly know you, other than the fact that you’re brilliant and incredible in bed and sexy as hell and…”

Trying to change the subject, Pete pulled her into a long, lingering kiss. “We have lots of time,” he murmured, “to learn about each other.” His hand ghosted over her hip as he kissed her again. “I mean, beyond how smoking hot you are. And smart. Really smart.” Another kiss, pulling her body against his as he did. “Which I find incredibly hot, by the way.”

“Maybe… maybe it was just the wine,” she guessed, returning the kiss in a way that made heat coil in his gut and down his cock. “I was having a really hot dream as well.” But then her expression turned serious. “I just want you to know I’m not mad or upset in any way. It’s damn impossible to think rationally around you.”

“I’m glad,” he said, cupping her cheek and kissing her gently. “That you’re not mad. And that you have trouble thinking rationally around me, because you do that to me, too.” He glanced at his phone, then smiled hungrily. “It’s just after midnight. Maybe we could try for a slightly rational irrationality?”

Gently pushing her into her back, he straddled one leg so she could feel his sticky, hardening cock in her thigh as his tongue teased h r nipple. “Tell me about your dream? And I’ll tell you about mine..,” A finger stroked her slit, dampening the tip with her juices and his cum before he circled her clit.
 
Pete didn’t respond to her slip of the tongue, instead answering her compliments with his own. Too many men were intimidated by her intelligence. Which was another reason it was easier to just date women. But Peter wasn’t, and that made him even more attractive. Which she had even more reason not to mess things up between them.

He glanced at his phone, then smiled hungrily. “It’s just after midnight. Maybe we could try for a slightly rational irrationality?”

Marta giggled, returning his hungry smile with her own eager grin. “I dreamt we brought another woman in bed with us.” Which was true! No need to mention Nkendi, or let him think she was still hung up on her ex. “You were nice and hard, and she was so soft. She and I ate each other out, then you joined in. Fucking me while she licked us both.”

Moans interrupted her words, her thoughts, and her swollen slit sucked in his fingers. She rubbed against him, grinding herself on his hand. Slick juices from his cock smeared her skin, and the scent of their passion suffused the air. It drove her mad, craving another taste of him, craving the pressure of his dick driving her walls apart. “Would… oh fuck, would you like that? Watching me fuck another woman, and then fucking us both? It’s… it’s making me so wet… well, and you… your, oh God, your fingers…”

Desperate fingers dragged his head to hers, biting his lips as much as kissing him. “I want you again. I want you so fucking bad…”
 
Marta giggled, returning his hungry smile with her own eager grin. “I dreamt we brought another woman in bed with us.”

Pete’s hand stopped moving, just for an instant, at the statement. “Really?” he asked, thinking of his own dream. “You... weren’t jealous?”

Her response was a soft moan as he stroked a finger deeper into her, then sucked on a nipple as he brushed her clit withhis thumb. “You were nice and hard, and she was so soft. She and I ate each other out, then you joined in. Fucking me while she licked us both.”

Well, shit. That was... just like his own dream. Marta eating out Char while he fucked her, Char’s clever tongue exploring them both. And it was hotter to know that Marta would have been someone they could both have agreed on.

She moved beneath him, her juices coating his hand as she took his feet ngers deeper, her leg sliding like silk against his cock. “Would… oh fuck, would you like that? Watching me fuck another woman, and then fucking us both?”

This was crazy second date conversation, right? Biological clocks and threesomes were the kind of thing you talked about months into a relationship, not... what? Thirty-six hours? “Fuck yes,” he growled, sliding another finger into her. “She’d have to be amazing, though,” he added between hungry kisses on her lips and throat. “To compete with you.”

“It’s… it’s making me so wet… well, and you… your, oh God, your fingers…”. Desperate fingers dragged his head to hers, biting his lips as much as kissing him. “I want you again. I want you so fucking bad…”

Reaching up with his free hand, he gripped her hand and pinned it against the pillow above her head. “Not yet,” he replied, withdrawing his hand and sliding a third finger into her. “I haven’t told you my dream, yet.” His hand worked against her, palm pressing against her mound as his fingers stretched her. “I dreamed about having another woman in our bed, too.” No need to mention that she was his ex-girlfriend, right?

Fingers pressed against the sensitive inner walls of her sex, slowly dragging over them. “She rode your face, and I could see your nails digging into the chocolate skin of her ass.” He kissed her lightly, pulling back as her mouth opened in desperate invitation. “When she started looking clung your cunt I joined in until she demanded I fuck you so she could taste us both,”

His own cock pulled against her thigh as she clenched on his fingers, precum slicking her skin. “I want to feel you cum on me,” he whispered, thumbnail lightly scraping her clit. His fingers slipped from her sex to brush her juices over her lips. The flavor as he kissed her nearly made him empty his cum on her. “Touch yourself for me, while I grab a condom,” he demanded. “I want you ready, when I fuck into you.”
 
“I dreamed about having another woman in our bed, too.”

“Yeah?” she breathed, writhing under Pete’s delightful ministration. Was it weird he also dreamt of having a threesome? The thought tugged at her mind, but could not break through the heavy veil of lust that dampened her logic.

But details broke through. She rode your face. The chocolate skin of her ass. That was... eerily similar to her dream. It was impossible to make sense of the parallels while Pete fucked her with thick fingers, or teased her clit with his thumb. Fuck, she was close, and she wanted his cock inside her while her climax gripped her. Maybe she would be able to think clearly, once she came.

Peter had his own ideas. “Touch yourself for me, while I grab a condom,” he demanded. “I want you ready, when I fuck into you.”

Marta didn’t dare disobey, just sat up against the pillows on his bed and spread herself wide for him. His seed glistened on her pink lips, guiding her own slender fingers deep inside her. “I’m ready for you. I am so fucking ready. Ready for that cock,” Marta growled, arousal transforming her nervous manner of speaking into filthy begging.

“Tell more about the woman we shared in your dream. She must have been hot.” Her own mind couldn’t help filling in Nkendi, her smooth curves, and bouncy curls. “You said she was black? Do you have a thing for black women?”
 
Pete tore open the sampler box, individual packs spilling to the ground in his haste. He fumbled with the foul wrapping in one, distracted by the sensual show Marta was putting on for him. ““I’m ready for you,” she growled, spreading herself so he could walk ch her fingers play over her slick flesh. “I am so fucking ready. Ready for that cock.”

The thin latex was cool on his dick as he rolled it down, but a thin layer of lubricant began warming as it touched his skin. “Bet you are,@ he growled back, stalked by acriss the bed towards her. “I am so fucking hungry for you.”

“Tell more about the woman we shared in your dream. She must have been hot,” she demanded, still fingering herself as his lat x-sheathed head brushed over her lips.

“She was,” he assured her. Maybe it would have felt strange ordinarily. But right now? Talked by about Char while getting ready to fuck Marta just turned him on more. “Almost as hot as you.”

“You said she was black?” Marta moaned, rocking her hips up. “Do you have a thing for black women?”

“I have a thing for sexy, smart women,” he told her, groaning as he pushed into her. It didn’t feel as good with the condom, but he could still feel her walls gripping him through the thin latex. “Fuck. Keep fingering yourself.”

He lifted her legs, hooking them over his shoulders so he could stroke deep into her. “She was a little... oh God... shorter than you and... fuck, you feel good.., maybe a little curvier. Skin the color of... of, fuck, of milk chocolate.” His hands cupped her ass, lifting and pulling her tighter. “She looked fucking good on you, and I could have licked her off every inch of your body.” His nails dug into her skin as his balls tightened. “Oh, oh fuck. Tell me... I’m close... tell me.., you are...”

He cried out as he climaxed, his hips driving against hers as he pulled against her walls. Maybe the feel of his cum against his cock as he emptied himself into the latex condom wasn’t as good as fucking it into her, but the pressure of her clenching walls on his shaft was still intoxicating. “God,” he gasped, catching himself on his arms as he shifted her legs off his shoulders. “You’re... incredible.”
 
Marta’s fingers teased her clit while Peter fucked her, and even fought for space inside her. Horny as she was, and still sensitive from the sleepy first time, it didn’t take much to drive her over the edge, and Peter followed soon after. Admittedly, she missed the sensation of his seed spraying her cunt, and how close she felt to him afterwards. But they could still be close, as she pulled him in for another kiss. “So are you. Incredible.”

Once her orgasm passed, thoughts returned, needling details popping up again and again. “The women in your dream, is it someone you know? Or… I don’t know, a celebrity?” Fingers ran through her hair, brushing back locks damp with perspiration. “Sorry to keep coming back to this point it’s just…” Marta breathed deep, and blew out a puff of air, “well, the woman in my dream was also a black woman. A woman I know, and… well, to be honest, a woman I’ve slept with before.”

“The way you described her… well, maybe it’s just coincidence, but she sounds like same woman. And the dream… it sounds the same as mine as well. The same acts, the same positions…” Marta shook her head and forced a laugh, aware she was sounding crazy.

“It not possible we had the same dream, right?” A wormhole was also supposed to be impossible, but they opened one last night. “It has to be some sort of coincidence, right? Maybe because we were talking about our exes before we fell asleep, and still pretty aroused. Does… does that make more sense?”
 
Reluctantly, after a few more kisses and caressed, Pete pulled out. He would have preferred to stay buried in her until e softened completely, but there was the condom to attend to. So he pinched it around the base and slipped into the bathroom, disposing if it in a waste basket (after checking it had a liner) and washing his hands. The September air was chill on his bare skin after the heat he and Marta had generated, and he was glad to slide back into his bed and her embrace.

“The women in your dream,” she asked, running her fingers through sweat-damp hair, “is it someone you know? Or… I don’t know, a celebrity?”

He grimaced, feeling suddenly and unaccountably shy. “My, uhm, my ex.” He shrugged. “We split up, oh, two years ago? I was working on my dissertation, and she got accepted to Oxford, and we just sort of... drifted apart.”

“Sorry to keep coming back to this point it’s just…” Marta breathed deep, and blew out a puff of air, “well, the woman in my dream was also a black woman. A woman I know, and… well, to be honest, a woman I’ve slept with before.”

“Really?” Well. That was curious.

“The way you described her… well, maybe it’s just coincidence, but she sounds like same woman. And the dream… it sounds the same as mine as well. The same acts, the same positions…” Marta shook her head and forced a laugh.

“Chantelle Harris?” he asked, curious. Surely not, right? And from the way she shook her head again, it seemed it wasn’t the same woman. “Nah. Way too much coincidence.”

“It not possible we had the same dream, right?” Marta asked. “It has to be some sort of coincidence, right? Maybe because we were talking about our exes before we fell asleep, and still pretty aroused. Does… does that make more sense?”

“It makes more sense than psychic powers, I suppose,” he said, pulling Marta into an embrace and dragging the covers up over them both. He yawned, then kissed her gently. “But, yeah. Maybe... maybe neither one of us is quite over our exes? Not as much as we thought, anyway? And the dreams were just, I don’t know, some sort of wish for...”. He snorted. “Nah, that’s just me proving I’m a crap shrink.” He stroked her cheek, and kissed her again. “Because I’m right where I want to be, right now.”
 
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