by Anne Conley
Dream On
Anne Conley
Copyright 2013 by Anne Conley
Smashwords Second Edition
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Cover photo by Dreamstime. Cover art by Anne Conley.
Edited by Catherine DePasquale.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead are purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Other novels by Anne Conley
Chapter 1
Dalton tilted his head back and felt the shot burn as it slid down his throat. He looked over at the woman in the vinyl bustier to his right and lifted the empty glass to her in a gesture of thanks.
He had been second-guessing himself. Just because he always came here, didn’t mean he had to always come here, did it? He wondered if he was getting tired of it all. He had been feeling restless the last couple of weeks and couldn’t quite put his finger on what was causing it.
He briefly wondered if he was finally ready to go back home and fulfill his family’s desires for him. Then the shot had showed up and the vinyl bustier had winked at him, and all thoughts of home and family vanished. He figured he could find someone entertaining to do tonight.
She stood up from the plush wingback chair and sauntered over to him, to perch on the arm of his chair. Eerily, her face reflected the multi-colored strobe lights: sickly green, mellow blue, demonical red. This last color seemed to mesh well with the abundance of makeup she wore, either to hide her age or hard living, Dalton couldn’t tell nor did he care.
Her hand encircled his bicep, as she inhaled slowly into his ear. “That’s a nice shirt. Can I talk you out of it?”
He inwardly rolled his eyes at her blatant pick up line, but since the outfit she was wearing had “fuck me hard” written all over it, he decided he shouldn’t disappoint. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
This was a club, but The Church on a Sunday night had some pretty lax rules about appropriate behavior. With the bass beat pounding through his spleen, he dipped his head and tasted the woman’s neck. She moaned and leaned into him, pushing her breasts against his chest. That was all he needed.
He nibbled her earlobe, “The last time I had sex in this chair, they asked me to leave.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” Her hand stroked his erection through his pants.
So he obliged her.
Alyssa was making lunches for her kids while they fought over toothbrushes in the bathroom. “Guys, come on! We’ve got to leave in ten minutes. We do not have time for this!” She finished throwing chips and cookies into the brown paper bags, and tossed them onto the couch on her way to the bathroom.
Extricating the princess toothbrush from Cayden’s grasp and placing it into Sierra’s hand, she said sternly, “Now, get to brushing!” Ten harried minutes later, they were on the way to school.
In the car, on the way to school, Alyssa cranked up the radio and tuned out the children. As soon as the bickering faded out, the dream she’d had last night tuned itself in. It had been a good one. She blushed at the pool of warmth forming between her legs.
It must have been some sort of subliminal thing telling her to get out more because the dream started out in this wild club. Scantily clad women, men decked out in black leather and metal spikes were everywhere.
After the club, Alyssa had gone home with this beautiful woman and done unspeakable things with her, because in the dream she had been a man. Was that her subconscious telling her something else?
She had been an incredibly hot man, for sure. Auburn hair, gray eyes, muscles everywhere, and apparently a boundless creativity in bed. Saliva pooled in Alyssa’s mouth, and she swallowed thickly.
At that moment, with her kids in the car, she was thankful her thoughts were private.
It was confusing. Alyssa was not attracted to women, and had never had any desire to be a man, but this dream was so real. In the dream she had performed delicious sexual acts with a woman, and Alyssa had enjoyed every bit of it. There was something about kissing the smooth skin, the supple softness, being in control of everything, that was deliciously foreign. The feelings her body had experienced were so strange to Alyssa. It could very well have been a wet dream. Did women even have wet dreams? She wasn’t sure, but she was almost positive she had had an orgasm last night.
As wrapped up as she was in her own thoughts, the drive was short this morning, After dropping the kids off at their school, she continued on to hers, trying to focus her thoughts on the school day.
Walking into the school, Alyssa swept her long blond hair up into a pile on top of her head and secured it with a pencil she found in her purse. She didn’t have time to look in a mirror in the morning, much less fix her hair. She pulled a few tendrils down to make it appear purposeful and walked to her room, keys in hand.
Alyssa’s classroom was fastidiously neat. She had motivational posters up on the walls, and spirited orange drapes over the windows. She walked into the room and opened up the drapes, to let some sunshine in. Before she could even grab her coffee cup and escape to the teacher’s lounge for some caffeine, a tall young man, wearing impossibly baggy jeans and a dirty hooded sweatshirt came ambling into her room. He dropped his backpack onto the floor by a desk and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his sweatshirt pocket.
“Ms. Fuller. I don’t get the homework.” He threw himself into the desk, and slouched down as low as physically possible without actually sliding out of the bottom.
“Well, get a book and show me exactly what you didn’t get.” Alyssa said to him, after putting her coffee mug back down on the corner of her desk.
“I didn’t get any of it. I don’t get what a verb is.” He made no move to get a book off of the shelf.
“Well, a verb is an action word. It’s a word that conveys action, like run, drive, or sleep. But what the homework was over was adverbs. They describe action, and most of them end in -ly. Honestly, Logan, you should have learned this stuff in junior high. Get a book, while I get some coffee, and I’ll come back and help you with it.” She grabbed her coffee mug and power walked down the hallway to grab her morning caffeine.
The rest of her day passed in a blur. Trying to get kids to understand the parts of speech and basic grammar principles was the reason she had chosen not to teach junior high. She had never in a million years thought she would be teaching it to tenth-graders.
Seventh period was her conference period, and when her children were
bussed over from the elementary school. They bounced into the room about halfway through the stack of papers she was grading and opened the snack drawer to get some nuts and juice Alyssa had stashed there just for them.
“Hey, guys. How was your day?” Alyssa’s brain was mushy by this time of the day, but she had to sound chipper for her kids. She had learned a long time ago, her moods rubbed off on them.
“It was awesome.” Sierra answered candidly, like she always did.
“It was awesome.” Cayden parroted his sister. He idolized her and did everything she did.
“Did you guys do anything interesting in class?” Alyssa had to prod to get details out of the kids.
“Ummm...Jonafon stole my turn wiping tables. I was supposed to be fe helper today, but he stole my turn.” Cayden’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Did you get mad and throw a fit?” Alyssa asked.
“No, I told the teacher it was my turn, and she said I could do it tomorrow.”
“Good, I don’t want to hear about any fits at school. You’re my sweet boy.” She leaned down and brushed a kiss across the top of his head. “How about you, Sierra?”
“Today was art class. I got a star.”
“Good! You’re my sweet girl.” Alyssa brushed a kiss across her daughter’s head, too. “Now, you guys get started on your homework. Mommy doesn’t have to do duty today, so we can leave at 4:00. Okay?” They giggled at the words ‘do duty,’ like they always did, and Alyssa rolled her eyes.
The kids pulled out their work and sat at the big kid desks, their feet swinging under the chairs and got busy. By the time Alyssa was finished grading her papers, the bell had rung. No students came in for tutoring after school, so they left as soon as they could.
In the car on the way home, Cayden started whining to go to Grammy’s house.
“Not today, honey. We’ve got to get home so I can fix supper.”
“Awww...Please?” Cayden persisted.
“Not today, maybe tomorrow.” She was constantly putting him off, it seemed, but visits to Grammy’s house never lasted less than an hour. Her mother wanted to visit every time, and the visits invariably turned to asking favors, and Alyssa just didn’t have the time today.
“I wish parents didn’t exist. Only Hotwheels.” Cayden pouted.Alyssa smiled to herself.
She couldn’t laugh out loud, or Cayden would think she was laughing at him, so she said, “You can play with your Hotwheels when we get home before dinner. I promise.”
Somewhat appeased, he stayed quiet the rest of the way home.
When they got home, Alyssa turned on the radio in the kitchen on to the local country station and went about her task of making a healthy dinner her children would actually eat. She had put some chicken in the crock-pot this morning, so she added some cream cheese to the pot and started on side dishes. These were always tricky. She wanted her kids to eat veggies, but they didn’t always agree with that philosophy. She put some green beans on to cook with bacon fat and sliced some raw veggies as a back up plan.
After dinner was bath time, which with Cayden was no problem, but Sierra tended to stay and float in the water instead of actually washing herself, so Alyssa sat on the toilet to help keep her motivated. Tonight she was appalled to find out her daughter had a bona fide boyfriend.
“What’s his name, Sierra?”
“Adam, and he’s new, but he was in my class last year, before his parents took him out of school to home school him.”
“Hm...” Alyssa didn’t really approve of the parents who took their kids out of school for “home schooling” just because they couldn’t get along with or agree with the teacher. She had experienced this at the high school level.
“Mikala asked him if he liked me, and he told her he did. And then he told her he was my boyfriend. At recess, he gave me a shiny rock. I’m going to cherish it forever.” Sierra sighed dramatically, as she sank back down into the water.
“Every little girl should love shiny rocks...” Alyssa wasn’t sure what to say to this revelation. Her eight-year-old had a boyfriend. Oh boy...
After Sierra had washed her hair and all of the essentials, Alyssa left her to float and swish in the tub, while she cleaned the kitchen. Cayden was happily playing with his beloved Hotwheels in the living room so Alyssa could do the dishes in relative peace.
While she scrubbed and rinsed, she reflected on her day. It had been hectic and busy, like always. Sometimes it seemed like she just ran and ran all day long taking care of other people. Making sure her own children were clean, fed and happy, as well as making sure she provided a safe, comfortable learning environment for her students, was difficult on a good day, which this had been. She briefly thanked the heavens there weren’t any major conflicts at the moment and wondered how long it would be before something came up. She couldn’t imagine her life going this well for too long.
Once both of the kids were bathed, she double-checked their homework, and put a Scooby Doo video on for them to watch in their room. Since the divorce, they insisted on sharing a room. Her ex, Steven, didn’t like it, but he wasn’t calling the shots anymore, was he? They experienced a devastating blow when Alyssa and Steven had split up, and they seemed to find a measure of comfort in sharing a bed with each other. She knew it probably was inappropriate, but it was temporary, and she was a firm believer in picking her battles. The whole bed situation would change, and soon. For now, though they were all happy, and sleeping well.
After making up a short bedtime story for the kids, and singing them her special Scooby Doo lullaby, she tucked them into bed and went into her own bedroom for the night.
The rest of the evening was hers. Alyssa ran a hot bubble bath, and immersed herself into the fragrant water, remembering her still vivid dream from last night. The sensations the dream evoked were alien to her. She had never been touched the way the man in her dream had touched that woman. He had touched her everywhere, and had touched her with urgency, like he had to have her. And the places he touched her. Alyssa thought the woman could have faked her reaction to those caresses, but she didn’t think it was likely. It looked like the man knew what he was doing. Alyssa rubbed her own hands over her body in the bathtub, feeling the soapy bubbles dissolve under her fingertips, but she didn’t know what else to do to herself to evoke those kinds of sensations. She knew about self-love but never had felt comfortable enough with herself to actually perform it.
Her thoughts drifted to Steven, her ex-husband, and his views on sex. Procreation only, that’s what he said. Masturbation was totally out of the question. Sighing heavily, she rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around her body. Putting on her pajamas, she went to bed, falling asleep almost instantly, hoping to dream of the man again.
Chapter 2
Dalton awoke in a hot sweat. “What the hell?” He looked around the room to make sure he was home, the dream had been so vivid, so detailed. He mumbled to himself before getting out of bed and into the shower. While he was soaping up, he remembered the woman in the bathtub, definitely the highlight of the dream. The rest of it, he could have done without.
What possessed him to dream about a school teacher? He recalled the repetition of her teaching the grammatical rules to classroom after classroom of bored teenagers.
He could almost see the teacher thing. Almost. He had been known to entertain the random naughty teacher fantasy. What red-blooded boy hadn’t? It was the mom thing that really threw him. He could honestly say he had never fantasized about a woman with kids, until last night. Sure, he wanted kids someday. He should probably start thinking about that soon: he was thirty-six. But he still had plenty of time. What was making him dream about that shit now?
Shaking his head, he went back to the bathtub part of the dream. Yeah, that was hot. All those bubbles, hiding parts he wanted to see. Her large breasts floating atop the bubbles, and when she ran her hands across them, and then down her body...oh yeah, he liked that part of the dream.
Dalton
stroked himself lazily, stopping only when he realized he had been a participant in the dream. He had been her. What was that all about? He remembered the feelings of frustration the dream had awakened. Frustration at the teenagers, at the children’s eating habits, at not knowing what to do with that beautiful body.
Lost in his fantasy of the dream girl, he realized he was running late for work. He dressed quickly and left.
At the bar, he started stacking the glasses and cutting the fruit for the drinks he would be making. Intent on his job, he didn’t notice when a slender pair of arms came around his waist and a husky voice whispered in his ear, “What’s a stud like you doing in a place like this?”
He turned to see his boss. “Charlie. That could be construed as sexual harassment, you know.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I’m getting ready for a slow tip night without a barback. Where’s Kenny?”
Charlie smiled at him. “I told him he didn’t have to come in tonight. I figured you could use the extra money, to finance your extracurricular activities.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “His girlfriend got a promotion and isn’t home with the baby as much. He needed the time off more than the money.” She moved away to go check on the other bars. Dalton had worked there long enough to not need much supervision.
Dalton’s mind was still on the dream, as he finished getting ready for customers. When he had plenty of glasses stacked, fruit washed and cut up, and double checked his bottle openers and supply of matches, he looked up to see a sultry pair of eyes watching him.
Embarrassed to realize he hadn’t anticipated a customer, he asked, “Evening ma’am, what can I get you?”
She smiled slowly at Dalton, “Screaming Orgasm?”
He leaned in to smell her perfume, pretending he hadn’t heard her, “Pardon?”
“I would like a Screaming Orgasm. It’s a shot.” She said it suggestively, while shifting in her seat. She bit her bottom lip.
‘Sheesh, it’s a little early for this kind of thing,’ Dalton thought to himself. Out loud he said, “I know what a Screaming Orgasm is,” just as lustily. He wondered when his life had turned into this cliche.