What Do You Dream Of?

by Don Lockwood

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Cheating, School, .

Desc: Sex Story: Kiersten dreams about Glenn. As does Cammie. What does Glenn dream of? Warning: there is very little sex in this story. You want stroke, this ain't it. Winner of the September 2003 Silver Clitorides

This story was suggested, in a very roundabout way, by the song of the same title, by Marshall Crenshaw.


The minute I saw Kiersten, I knew she was going to change my life.

First of all, she was gorgeous. 5'10", long blonde hair, perfectly proportioned body. She had long willowy legs, a lovely firm ass, and beautiful tits. I was immediately smitten.

This wasn't all that unusual. I can become immediately smitten at the drop of a hat. I'm a confirmed girl-watcher, and I fall in lust five times a day. No big deal, usually. However, Kiersten wasn't a pretty face seen walking down the street. She was a new co-worker.

I was an executive for a large computer company. Kiersten was a junior fast-track type. Don't let that make you think this was a May-September thing, because it wasn't. There was a difference in our ages, but not a huge one. Despite my executive status, I was only 32. Kiersten, I learned later, was 25.

But she was a co-worker. Which means I got to know her. And, as it happened, the attraction didn't go away-it deepened. Kiersten wasn't just a pretty face. She was smart, witty, interesting, and charming. She made me laugh-it had been so long since I'd laughed like that. She also was willing to discuss anything under the sun, and she held her own. We ended up eating lunch together, even going out for a drink after work a few times.

Smitten? I'd passed that point long ago. To paraphrase Paul McCartney: falling, yes I was falling. She'd been working for us for three months when I passed the point of no return. I was absolutely falling in love with this girl. I think the sentiment was shared.

There was only one problem. I was married.


I'd met Cameron-Cammie to all and sundry-one of my first days at college. I walked into her in the bookstore. I mean, really walked into her. Knocked her books all over the place. What a klutz, eh? I stammered out an apology-she just laughed.

I quickly found out she was in a couple of my classes that first semester-us both being business majors. She saw me in the first class, plopped down next to me, and giggled, "Am I safe?"

She ended up finding me in the dining hall for lunch that day, giggling, "Should I put a cover over my food in case it goes flying?" She ate with me, sat next to me in the classes we shared, and we quickly became fast friends.

And that's all we were-friends. She had a number of boyfriends, and I had my share of girlfriends. But she was probably my best friend. I had no surer confidant. We could talk to one another about anything. She had a biting sarcastic wit that appealed to me, and she told me she enjoyed my deadpan take on life. If we didn't have dates, it wasn't unusual for us to be up all night on a Friday, drinking beers and talking. I even introduced her to my beloved St. Louis Cardinals. By the fall of junior year, she was as an enthusiastic baseball fan as I was.

Everything changed later on that year, junior year, in March.

It was spring break. Both of us had nowhere to go, so we stayed on campus. Considering the campus wasn't what you'd call crowded, we spent most of the week with each other. It started out normally-hanging out, drinking beers, sending out for Chinese, watching spring training baseball games, talking about everything under the sun.

Halfway through that week, we were sitting on my couch, and, suddenly, she said, "Damn, I'm horny."

"I know what you mean," I agreed. Both of us had been dumped right before Christmas break, so it had been a good three months for each of us.

"Hey, Glenn. Have you ever though about, you know, you and me..." she trailed off.

"You and me what?" I asked.

"You know," she said, and paused, taking a gulp of her beer. "In bed."

"Have I thought of it? Well, since you asked, I'll admit it. Of course. Cammie, you're sexy as hell," I told her. And she was. The best way to describe Cammie was voluptuous. She wasn't fat, but she was soft and round and curvy. And her gorgeous round ass and D-cup breasts could stop a truck. Then there was her face. Beautiful deep brown eyes, a button nose, and full soft lips made for kissing. She also had gorgeous very long straight brown hair.

"Well, if you think I'm sexy, why haven't you ever made a move on me?" she asked.

"Because you're my best friend, and I didn't want to spoil that."

She nodded her agreement, but then made a decision. Before I knew it, she was next to me, leaning into me, pressing those luscious soft lips into mine, and snaking her tongue into my mouth. Before I knew what hit me, we had moved into the bedroom, we were completely naked, and I was pumping into her.

It was, by far, the best sex I'd ever had. Cammie was a complete animal in bed, did things with her cunt muscles that I didn't think were possible, and came louder and longer than any girl I'd ever seen. And numerous times, too. I never thought I'd see a girl cum like that. Until, after we woke up the next morning, and she asked me if I'd eat her pussy. I'd never done that, but was willing, and asked her to tell me what to do. I must've been able to follow her requests OK, because that was cumming. After about three or four or a million absolutely screaming cums, she gave me the blowjob of my life. Then we fucked our way right through the bedroom wall again.

That was it. We were hooked. We were still the best of friends-the only difference is, after the chat or the takeout Chinese or the Cardinals game, we went into one of our bedrooms and fucked like bunnies. When junior year ended, we decided to get an apartment near campus and stay there all summer. We got jobs, and when senior year started, we were living together.

Three months before we were to graduate, we were careless-and Cammie got pregnant. I did the honorable thing and proposed. Hell, it was easy-we were in love, right? I mean, she was my best friend and we had earth-shattering sex-what else do you need? That was love to me. We got married right then. After we graduated, I found a job in St. Louis, we moved there, and Cammie had Jessica in November. She stayed home with Jessie at first. Three years later, we had an accident. The birth control failed, or so Cammie claimed-I'm now not sure-and, when Jessie was three and a half, our second daughter, Jaimie, came along.


It was just about then that things started to go straight to hell.

The disappearance of our sex life was gradual, but noticeable. We made love fairly steadily for the first year of Jaimie's life, but it was less than before, even after Jessie.

A year and a half after Jaimie was born, Cassie decided to go back to work. I was all for the decision-Cammie was smart and talented and wanted a career. She went to work as an investment banker.

It wasn't long before we wouldn't see her before seven or eight o'clock at night. I understood it was a demanding career, but I had a demanding career but still managed to walk out of the building at five on almost all nights. Cammie, even with her hours, was a good mother to Jessie and Jaimie. I'd pick them up from day care, and cook the meal, and when Cammie came home she doted on them. We did things as a family every weekend.

What paid the price in Cammie's attentions was me. Our sex life dwindled down to nothing. Our conversations-which were always as good as the sex-dwindled down as well. Our kids were getting older. I was 33 years old, married for eleven years, with a ten-year-old and a seven-year-old. And my marriage was a shambles. Cammie had deigned to make love to me on our eleventh anniversary-six months later and that had been the last time.

To outsiders, we were the perfect family. We were financially very healthy and had been able to buy a lovely house in the St. Louis suburbs. We had great, personable, well-behaved kids. Cammie and I were still young and good-looking. We had it all.

If that was the case, I had begun asking myself, why do I feel 53 years old instead of 33?

Then Kiersten walked into my life. And suddenly I didn't feel old anymore.


It started, as I said, slowly. Just co-workers. Then I kissed her. And it was all over. I felt like I was drowning in her, just from a kiss.

Had I ever felt that way about Cammie?

We hadn't consummated the relationship, but there was an opportunity. An overnight business trip, to Chicago, that we both were required to take. We got separate rooms at the hotel, of course, but one of them wasn't going to be used.

We got into Chicago on a Thursday morning, went through all the boring meetings we had to attend, then went back to the hotel restaurant for dinner.

Then we went into my room.

Finally. It was going to happen. My only worry was whether or not I'd go off too soon, considering it had been six months. I had Kiersten in my arms, kissing her deeply, sitting on the bed. I reached down and unbuttoned her blouse, and cupped her bra-covered breast in my hand. I reached behind her and unclasped the bra. After slipping her bra and blouse off, I moved my head down and started suckling her nipples.

Then, I stopped.

I don't know what it was. I just couldn't go through with it. And that's what I told her. "Kiersten, I can't do this."

"Glenn, why not?"

"Because I'm basically an honest person. And this is so dishonest."

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Cheating / School /