Dreams (Paranormal erotic romance)

by Dee Dawning

  Char shrugged again. "He might have, but you know how dreams are. You're lucky to remember anything."

  "Okay, Hon. If your man exists, I'm going to find him."

  She'd never seen such a determined look on Linda's face before. "You do that."

  Linda hadn't been gone five minutes when Char's secretary rang. "A Mr. Carlson wishes to speak with you on line one."

  "Thanks Eve."

  Thanks to Ralph, she knew who Mr. Carlson was. She pushed the button for line one. "Good morning Mr. Carlson. I was just about to call you."

  He responded in a pleasant enough voice. "Wilson, please. I'm glad I took the burden off your shoulders. I aim to provide you with top notch service."

  "That's what I like to hear. Could we meet so you can show me what you have so far?"

  He didn't answer directly, "I'd like that, but since the assignment has just been transferred to me, let me review the file for the rest of today. Could we meet early tomorrow morning?"

  "Yes, but not too early. I have a dance class at seven. Where would you like to meet?"

  "I hate to put you out, but since time is of the essence, I'll be working from home. Could we meet near there?"

  "Where's that?"

  "Brooklyn."

  "That'll be fine. I live nearby, in Williamsburg. When and where would you like to meet?"

  "Is nine alright?"

  "Nine-thirty works better for me."

  "All right. There's a Starbucks a couple of blocks from my flat on the corner of Court and Joralemon Streets. No wait, I forgot they're closed for remodeling. No problem there's another one a few blocks further down Court at Dean Street. I'll meet you there."

  Starbucks? A chill crashed through her. She shivered and felt clammy. Starbucks? Could this be the one, of all the thousands of Starbucks, in her dream? The one where she met…

  "Ms Macklin, did you hear me?"

  Collecting herself, with newfound resolve she answered. "Yes, I heard you. It's Miss. And you may call me C.J. Nine-thirty at the Starbucks at Court and Dean it will be. See you then."

  "Wait! Don't hang up. How will I know you?"

  Hmmm. "I'll be wearing a NYU sweat shirt and a ball cap. You?"

  "Hey I have one of those. I'll wear the same thing and a Yankee's cap."

  "Blah! Mine will be a Met's cap."

  * * * *

  When Mitch hung up, he thought two things. Miss C.J. Macklin had pluck and though it wasn't possible, he had the eerie feeling that the lady and he had spoke before.

  He rose from his desk, grabbed the folder and headed for Evan's office. Ev's door was open so Mitch cleared his throat and waited at the doorway for Evan to notice him.

  "Yes Mitch."

  "I'm going to take your advice. I think I can get a lot more done at home."

  Ev waved him away. "Go, go, go! Let me know if you need anything. I'll see you next week."

  Mitch nodded, took the elevator down to the second floor. He entered the parking garage and headed to his company assigned parking stall, which in Manhattan was a big perk. He remotely opened the driver's side door, crawled into his Lexus crossover and headed home.

  Mitch got home at half past eleven. He skipped lunch and delved into his work non stop, except for bathroom breaks, eating a Hungry Man TV dinner and pausing to make two pots of strong coffee. He worked until he fell asleep at his combination workstation-drafting board and dreamed about a beautiful young lady he hoped was real and very much wanted to meet.

  * * * *

  Char on the other hand, couldn't sleep. She was nervous about the next day. There seemed to be something oddly familiar about the new ad man, Wilson, and she was particularly anxious about visiting a Starbucks. Any Starbucks would throw her, but being in Brooklyn really made her edgy. That was one of the few things she remembered about her dream. She'd been in Brooklyn when she went into Starbucks and met Mitchell.

  Co-incidence? She hoped so. After getting ready for bed and slipping between the sheets, she picked her half finished paperback and began to read. Slowly but surely, she got sleepy and within fifteen minutes, she fell asleep. Sometime during the night, her dream and her dream lover Mitch, returned.

  He slipped the lone strap of her fashionable one-shoulder cocktail dress over her shoulder then pulled the black beaded bodice down across and under her breasts. The suddenness of fresh air across her exposed nipples led them to pebble and jut out. His face eased in, ardently and languorously sucking and licking on one of the enlarged nipples. Her nub was so sensitive she could feel tingly, sensuous pleasures clear down in her toes. She sighed as his lips closed over her bud, moaned as he began to lick it with the tip of his tongue, then cried out in dark delight as his teeth nibbled on it. And while his succulent lips made love to her hard nipple, his hands roamed freely over her body. Eyes closed, a tiny, involuntary yelp of pleasure emerged from her as his hands pleasured her other nipple, her ass and mound through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

  As Char freed his delightfully hefty, rigid cock from its confinement and tenderly stroked it, a quandary emerged. Though she wanted to suck on his oversized specimen, she didn't want him to interrupt the wonderful, naughty things he did to her by taking him in her mouth.

  Slipping a hand under the skirt of her dress, she gasped when tender fingers shunted her panties and zeroed in on her favorite playthings. When two clever fingers glided effortlessly into her slippery recess, her head lolled back, banging against the wall, but she felt no pain. All she felt was glorious pleasure as intimate digits massaged her from inside in slow, sensual strokes. Her grip tightened so much on his cock, he winched.

  "Ow! You're a wildcat."

  She responded breathily, "And you sir…are a…tomcat, a naughty, wicked tomcat and I must have you."

  Char knew what she wanted and started removing his clothes. His sport coat already draped from one of two garment hooks in the stall. She unbuttoned his long-sleeved white shirt. Unfortunately, removing the shirt completely, forced his fingers to temporarily interrupt their heavenly, sinful ministrations. Thankfully, when she'd disposed of the shirt, his fingers returned to their heroic position with the bonus of his thumb strumming her swollen, magic bud. His renewed intimacy caused her back to arch violently, ultimately pushing her unadorned breasts into his hairy chest.

  As her fingers frantically undid his belt, he unzipped the back of her lovely dress. With the assist of a hip shift here and there from Char, gravity took her gown to the floor. Naked, but for lacy panties and three inch heels, she looped long fingers behind the top of Mitch's trousers and shorts. As she lowered herself to the floor, she dragged the trousers and underpants with her. Eye level with the object of her desire, she stared at it and it seemed to stare back. He kicked off his loafers and stepped from the gathering of cloth that surrounded his feet. Her hands temporarily reached out and grabbed his hips. One of Char's hands moved over, grasping his fine cock as her tongue darted out and licked the underside from scrotum to head.

  Mitch gasped and placed his hands on her shoulders, seemingly to steady himself. If he was expecting a blow job, he must have been disappointed because Char rose and placing a hand on his broad muscular chest, pushed. "Sit," she instructed. As the back of his knees edged against the front of the commode, he sat. She smiled and felt her tongue slide across her top lip as she perused his healthy cock reaching for the sky. Shaking off an obvious case of lust, she asked, "Where are the condoms?"

  His eyes widened. "Condoms?"

  Char rolled her eyes, then…woke as the alarm jolted her to consciousness. Dammit, I can't even get laid in a dream. Disgusted, after jumping out of bed she let the shower warm up while she went to the bathroom. Hopefully, a good workout at the dance studio would divert her mind from sex…or in this case, the lack thereof.

  Chapter Three

  With his eyes still closed, he reminisced about the latest dream. Damn, how close could it get? Both of us were naked and ready to do it.

  God she loo
ked hot. Even better unclothed than with clothes and she looked fantastic in clothes. Tiny waist, beautiful upturned breasts, a shapely ass and classic, well turned legs. On a more personal note, her pussy had no pubic hair and looked inviting as hell. Especially, with that little multi-colored butterfly tattoo up and to the right of her mons veneris. He wished he knew if she was real or not. He'd love to search for her like Ev suggested. Unfortunately he had to get this project out.

  Suddenly, he realized he wasn't in bed…and was still dressed. He rose up in his seat and looked around. He'd fallen asleep at the work station. He got up went into his bathroom and turned on the shower. Next, he headed for the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee and then went to his bedroom and undressed.

  After taking a three minute shower and redressing, he poured a giant cup of coffee. He had three hours before his meeting with the enigmatic Miss C.J. Macklin. You can get a lot done in three hours and he planned to do just that.

  * * * *

  On the way to the dance studio, Char's cell phone rang. She pulled over and retrieved her phone from her handbag. "Hello?"

  "How was act four?"

  "Oh, Linda! I'm fine how are you?"

  "Sorry to be so direct, but please don't keep me in suspense, did you and dreamboy do the deed?"

  "I don't even want to talk about it."

  "Ah c'mon."

  "I'm late to my dance class. I'll tell you what. When my class is over, I promise I'll call you."

  "And tell me what happened."

  Char smiled. "And tell you what happened."

  "Okay, I'll be here waiting with baited breath."

  * * * *

  At nine-fifteen, Mitchell, having completed at least a concept for the advertising campaign, headed to Starbucks and his appointment with C.J. Macklin. The cloud cover was thick and he wondered if it was going to rain. He hoped not for he hadn't brought an umbrella. He arrived five minutes ahead of schedule and got in a four person line. They weren't crowded by any means, but they weren't empty either and by the time he placed his order the line behind him had grown to six people.

  * * * *

  On the way to the designated Starbucks, Char remembered she promised to call Linda. "Hi, it's me. I'm finished with my dance class."

  "Oh good. I've been waiting for you to call. Are you going to tell me about last nights dream?"

  "Sure, it started off really good. We picked up where we had been in the previous dream. He suckled my nipples and his hands were everywhere, as if he were Eight Armed Willy."

  When she paused Linda prompted, "Go on, tell me more."

  "I would but there isn't much more to tell. We were both naked, he sitting on the toilet and I was about to climb on his sizable joy stick when the dratted alarm buzzed again."

  "Oh, you poor girl. This must be so frustrating. Are you on your way in?"

  Char noticed the gentle breeze had turned into a strong one. "No, I'm on my way to a meeting with the new advertising rep. You don't know if it's supposed to rain today do you?"

  "Not that I know of, why."

  "Oh, nothing. It's just that the clouds are low and a strong breeze just kicked up."

  "So who's the new rep?"

  "He seemed very nice over the phone. His name is Wilson Carlson. I should be in after our meeting."

  I started to hang up, but Linda seemed to grow excited. "No, wait, that's what I need to tell you, Wilson Carlson—"

  Suddenly, a bolt of lightning flashed across the windshield and lit the rapidly darkening sky. "Damn that scared the hell out of me. Did you hear that?"

  No one answered. "Linda?"

  "Are you there, hon?" She ended the call, hit redial and received an unlikely message. "The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected." Disgusted she threw the phone in her purse. I wonder what she needed to tell me. Three blocks from her destination, it started pouring, but when she reached the intersection of Court and Dean the rain had passed. Starbucks was right there.

  A cold chill raced through her. It looked like the one in her dream. She got in the left lane and waited for the green light. Now, if I can find a parking place, her mind wished as she turned, but before she could even straighten the steering wheel, she had to jamb on her brakes. She would have hit the car that darted out from the curb if she hadn't reacted quickly. Jerk. At least she has a perfect parking place right across the street from her destination. As she backed into the vacated space the rain returned. She reached behind the passenger seat for her umbrella, put her Met's cap on, hopped out of her sports car, and opened her umbrella. Then she raced the short distance across the narrow street."

  * * * *

  Tingles of excitement swept through Mitchell as he watched the beautiful apparition race across the street from her little red BMW, Z4. He couldn't believe his eyes so he rubbed them and looked again. Indeed, it was her—Charli—aka Miss C.J. Macklin. She looked different than in the dream. In the dream she wore a knee length summery print dress with her long, reddish brown hair down and two inch wedge sandals. But of course they prearranged what they would wear for identification. As promised she wore the NYU sweatshirt, workout pants and a New York Mets ball cap, a long pony tail draping from the back of her cap.

  What she wore was irrelevant. She was that gorgeous. He never thought he could be so enthralled with a woman in a dream. His gaze never left her from the time she opened her red umbrella and raced across the street until she stopped by the entrance and folded the umbrella. Then she came in. While he had been forewarned, having watched Charli from the time she got out of the car, she wasn't. When her gaze met his, it became apparent, she'd been having the dream, too. She staggered and fell back against the door jamb.

  * * * *

  She stepped in, out of the rain and took stock of her surroundings. Remembering that the man she came there to meet would be wearing the same get up as her, except his ball cap would be Yankee, her gaze rounded the room. Then she saw him standing and waving—but it was Mitchell, her dream lover. He started toward her. He was dressed like the man she was supposed to meet—Wilson Carlson. Without warning, her pulse rate zoomed. She felt dizzy and weak. She felt her life-force pulsing through her neck artery and pounding in her ears. She staggered, falling back against the door jamb. The man—Wilson or Mitchell reached for her as if to steady her and then the lights went out.

  She came to with a start, the pungent odor of ammonia in her nostrils. She rested on the floor and her dream lover had an arm around her. "Are you?"

  He smiled. "Yes, I'm Mitch. Wilson Mitchell Carlson."

  She glanced around. Other concerned people surrounded her. She looked back to Mitch. "I'm all right. Can you help me to your table?" He half stood and lifted her with his strong arms and the small crowd that had gathered clapped.

  A young man who was obviously an employee asked, "Can I get you something? It's on the house."

  She smiled. "Thank you. I'll have a café au lait."

  "Coming right up."

  Mitchell slowly half walked, half carried her to his table and set her down. Her mind flashed back to her erotic dream of last night when he sat on the toilet, naked, his cock aiming skyward waiting for her to impale her warm, wet, soft vagina upon his staff.

  "I guess you had the dream, also?"

  He moved his head in the affirmative.

  "Last night. In the womens' restroom?"

  "He nodded."

  Heat flushed through her at the realization that she had been as naked for him as he had been for her. "You saw me…na…"

  "Naked! Yes, as you did me. You are without a doubt the loveliest creature I've ever seen. I'm just thrilled you are real and not a figment of my imagination."

  Suddenly, her café au lait was placed in front of her. She glanced up and thanked the server, "Thank you so much."

  "Your welcome. Enjoy."

  As he walked away her gaze shifted back to Mitch. She took a sip of her drink, recalling what he'd said and agreeing. "I feel the
same." she sensed wetness form in her eyes and her pussy. "What do we do now?"

  "I don't know. Go steady, become a couple, get engaged, It's all open to me. And now that I know you're a living angel, you'll never get away."

  Snickering, she took his hand in hers. It was cool. "It's all open to me, too, but I meant about the project."

  "Well that's obvious. The project needs to be finished, but I have a confession to make."

  * * * *

  He explained the situation. "I'm so sorry I'm not further along, but I didn't even know about Comely Creations and C.J. Macklin until ten minutes before I called you yesterday."

  She smiled at Mitch and laid a reassuring hand across his. "I understand. Why don't you show me what you've come up with so far."

  His concept was inspired, but she knew he'd never finish the presentation in time. "Under the circumstances, I think we should go to your flat and work on this together."

  He laughed. "Can you work with me knowing that I have seen you in the altogether, albeit in a dream."

  "As long as you liked what you saw, yes?"

  "I loved what I saw. I can't wait—"

  "That makes me wonder. Can we work together knowing how much we desire each other, because believe me, I desire you more than I believed possible."

  "What choice do we have?" He took her hand and rose. "I walked here. Would you give me a lift?"

  She smiled. "Sure. It'll only cost you a kiss."

  Chapter Four

  She smiled the entire six blocks as Mitch guided her to his flat, and why shouldn't she; she had this indescribable giddy, tickly, euphoric feeling of happiness buried deep inside her chest moving around like a living thing. She was so happy she could scream. Better than hitting the lottery, her perfect dream lover was real and he was every bit as attracted to her as she was to him. It was like a faerie tale come true. Life had become a dream.

  His third floor, two bedroom apartment seemed small but cozy. In addition to his master bedroom, which he very briefly showed her, he had a home office in the second bedroom, a living room with period furnishings and a kitchen/dining room.