Touching Dream - Cover

Touching Dream

Copyright© 2006 by Imagineer

Chapter 6

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6 - William Cross was always sleeping on the job. This private investigator had the unique ability to find clues in the world of the subconscious. People literally paid him to dream about them. Until a woman walked in and woke him up.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fiction   Masturbation   Violence  

The couch wasn't really built for this.

Janelle lay atop Will as much as next to him, one leg and one arm stretched over him, soft breasts pressed against him. He felt his elbow hanging off the edge of the couch, and protectively drew his arm more tightly around her.

Squeezed against the back of the couch, laying flat on his back, unable to move for fear of knocking her off the couch, her head nestled against his neck, her hair spilling over his chin and mouth... it was uncomfortable. But Will didn't mind at all.

He hadn't felt this right in a long time.

She sighed sweetly as she stirred.

"You cold?" He could feel goosebumps on her hip.
"Hm-mm," she fibbed, squeezing him with her arm.
"Liar," he retorted, sliding his hand across her bottom and giving it a playful squeeze. "Let me get the blanket." His hand fell to the floor, feeling around the cold wood like a drunken spider. He couldn't reach very far, and after plucking up what turned out to be her panties he suspended the search and called for reinforcements.

Will pushed himself up on his other elbow, holding her to him so she wouldn't fall off the couch, straining his neck to see over her to the floor near the other end of the couch. The blanket he usually kept on the back of the couch had started off covering the pair after their first lovemaking, but it hadn't been more than a few minutes of slowing breathing before giggling set in and they'd found themselves wrestling and squirming and ready for another round, this time with her on top. The blanket had been an immediate casualty, now a lonely wad draped off the far end of the couch.

"I'll get it," she said. She tried to squirm out from under his arm but got caught and wound up landing somewhat ungracefully on the hard floor with a thump. A moment of held breath -- did she hurt herself? -- was followed by a rising stream of giggles. "Just kick me out of bed, why doncha," she managed before laughter overtook her. Will couldn't help but join in.

Janelle folded over and crawled to the other end of the couch, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her as she stood and headed for the bathroom.

"Leaving already?" Will said, his tone casual and cocksure but his anxiety growing.
"Calm down, I just gotta pee," she chided before she closed the door.

Will shifted on the couch, spreading out and stretching sore muscles. It'd been a long time since he'd felt this way. Well, in some ways, he'd never felt this way.

But it wasn't all good. Anxiety was beginning to build over what would happen next. It couldn't stay like this. Well, there was the obvious, of course -- Janelle was another man's wife. Not just any other man, but a former professional football player, a linebacker known for his fierce playing style. Funny that that was the least of his worries, almost not worth mentioning. But then, Janelle was no ordinary woman. He would have wondered if she was a woman at all if it hadn't been for what they'd done. No, not done, nothing so crude as that -- what they'd shared.

And now his brain was in problem-solving mode, trying its best to figure out how he could get her to leave.

He didn't want her to go, but he couldn't have her stay under Randy's thumb. The image of her scars returned; he scrunched up his face at the recollection. He'd only seen them for that one brief moment before she'd covered them up, and he'd been afraid to touch them all night, not wanting to remind either of them of what waited for her when she went back home to Randy. No, not when, if. Will would figure out a way to make this work. He reran everything Janelle had told him, about Wi'gen and Tal'id and Dream and her mission as a Guardian and binding and...

Janelle came out of the bathroom, its light glowing around her like a divine aura.

"Your veil," Will said out loud.
"What?" She flicked the light off and came back to the couch, standing at the other end of it, looking down at him, her hands on her hips beneath the blanket draped over her shoulders. The street light leaking in from the window behind her made her a silhouette to Will's eyes, the blanket looking a little like wings folded around her. Or maybe a shield.

"Your veil," he repeated. "It protects you, right? Like a shield, or a... forcefield?"
"I guess," she sighed. "At least, it would if I hadn't lost it." She tapped at his foot to move so she could sit. Will guessed he'd spoiled the mood and there'd be no more cuddling. He swung his feet around, the rubbing fabric of the cushions reminding him as he sat upright that he was naked. Somewhat self-consciously he reached down to find his boxers as Janelle sat down next to him.
"So what's this veil look like?" Will asked. He wiggled into his boxers without standing.

Janelle knew where he was going. "You can't find it. It's gone." Her voice changed, as if she was quoting something out of a book. "'If a Guardian becomes distracted and relaxes her hold on her veil, the swirl of passing thoughts may slip it from her shoulders beneath her notice, and then she is helpless against the Tal'id.' It's probably the most-discussed line in the divine order. They drill it into you in training. You can't see it, it's not even really physical, the only way you know it's there is you get this feeling."

Will frowned, but was only somewhat deterred. "What's it feel like?"
Janelle turned inward a moment, obviously searching far back for a memory. Then she smiled. "Happiness."

That was... cryptic. And yet, after last night, he knew exactly what she meant.

"Maybe if you let me, I could find it through your memories."
"Will, once I entered Dream, I pretty much forgot about my veil. I didn't even know I'd lost it. I roamed around a lot before I was drawn toward the other side --your side. You probably haven't even seen the far side of Dream yet. And even if you could find the veil, how would you pull it back here? It's actually in Dream, if it's anywhere at all." Janelle reached out from underneath the blanket and took his hand. "But it was a nice thought."

He knew she was patronizing him, but his brain wasn't done yet.

"Wait, I have another idea." He turned on the couch to face her, pulling her hand to have her do the same. "You said you couldn't leave because he'd just follow you and bind you again. So I'll keep him busy until you're safely away." He didn't have any idea how long that would have to be -- he knew when he Shifted in Dream he could go pretty much anywhere in an instant, but maybe it was different for someone if they actually crossed over. If they did, he'd hold Randy however long it took...

"No -- he'll hurt you."
"I'm not made of glass."
"Compared to him, you are."
"Maybe here, but not in Dream. And once you're unbound, that's the only place he'll be."
Janelle thought a moment, but... "I can't. I can't just run away and leave you to deal with him."

"And if you stay here, what can you do? You said yourself you can't Dream. He's been Dreaming here at least ten years since he brought you here, and who knows how long before that."
"But it's different now. He knows about you."
Will straightened up, shoulders thrown back. "So maybe now he'll think twice before he goes messing around in Dream." It wasn't like Will to puff up, but Dream was his world here, and he wasn't going to let anybody mess with it -- or her.

"But you're not like him, Will. He's... mean."
"And I'm stubborn," Will said evenly, as much a rebuttal to Randy's threat as to Janelle's reluctance.

"Look," he continued, "I know you feel like you're just dumping your problem on me-"
"That's right -- he's my problem. I was supposed to protect both our worlds from him and instead I brought him here. And it's my duty to fix it. I signed up for this, you didn't."
Will continued. "-but I can handle it." He looked down at her hand in his, the feeble glow from the window painting her smooth skin with illuminance against his dark roughness. "I don't know if you believe in fate -- I don't know if I believe in fate -- but you found me, and I can help. You can finally break free of him. And I'd like to think my life has more purpose than finding keys and keepsakes." He looked back up, catching her eyes. "We'd be crazy to turn away from this."
"But Will..."
"And anyway it's not like you're leaving him here forever, right? When you tell your... Elders about Randy, they'll send you back to take care of him for good."

Janelle sighed. "Will, I lost my veil. You don't know what a huge deal that is. It's not the kind of thing where you get a second chance."

That sucked. That really sucked. But Will bucked up; if he didn't put a happy face on this, how would he talk her into it? "Well, they'll send someone else then. Either way, the Randy problem gets solved. And in the mean time, I'll have something to do." He gave her a wry smile.

"What if he's already moved it?"
"You just get in there, take all the marbles, and get out. You remember the place you met me the other day, across town?"
"Yeah."
"If it doesn't work out, I mean, if you don't break free or whatever, you just go there. A man named Davis has an office there. He's a good man, and he owes me a favor; he'll take care of you until I get there, and we can figure out our next move. Just remember, if he's moved it, I'll find it. Randy can't hide anything from me."
"When he wakes up, he's going to come for you."
"I won't be here by the time he gets here."
"What if he's keeping the marble with him? You can't-"
"Then I'll get a couple of friends to help me. They find out what he's done to you, I don't care how strong he is, we'll get him to cough it up."
"But Will, he can't be-"
"Janelle, stop it. I'm not giving up on you. One way or another, you're going home."

Will stood up and began gathering Janelle's clothes. "You get dressed; I'll dip into Dream and see if he's asleep. If he is, you can go now and this'll all be over before the sun comes up."

"I need to think about this," she put off.

Will imagined her going back to that monster. No. "Now that he's seen me, he knows something's up. Like you said, it's different now." He pushed the clothes into her hands and then pulled her to her feet. "Stay or go. Either way, I'm gonna go give Randy a piece of my mind."

He could tell that she understood now. It was different.

The blanket fell from her shoulders as she stood and took the clothes from him. "William Cross, you are something else."

Will sat back down and then reclined on the couch. He was charged up, but he also had a clarity he hadn't ever felt before. He had a mission. He had a purpose.

It only took a moment.
Will shifted.

 

Inside the house. Behind the recliner. Not there.
Threads leading from the fishtank to the bedroom.
Randy, in bed, asleep.

A thread in Will's hand. Gentle...
Shift.

Randy's hulking frame, squatting in front of the fish tank, peering into it, one marble glowing brightly, tracing hundreds of intersecting curves of light all over the walls of the room. The faintest hints of dozens of threads running away from Randy in every direction.

Focus...

Threads brighter now, thicker, the room fading away to leave the two men in the middle of an endless space marked only by thick webs of mind linking unseen souls and pasts and events, waiting to be touched.

Shift.

Will was back on his couch. His eyes remained closed, but he felt the realness around him, the fabric on the cushions, the air in his lungs, the tug of gravity, the scent of someone else...

But he held on to that last image of Randy, alone, all of his threads lit up around him, connecting him to all of the things he'd done, all of the people he'd touched.

He wanted to take those threads and wrap them around the brute's thick neck and squeeze the very essence out of him.

Will felt something soft and moist on his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Janelle kneeling over him. "I thought I'd lost you for a minute there," she said with a smile.

"He's in bed asleep," Will said, all business. "You should go now. I'll keep him busy." It occurred to him that he had no idea how long she'd need. "Does it take long?"

"To break the binding? I don't know. I don't think so."
"And to get home?"

Home; the word seemed to strike her as bittersweet. "I only have to imagine it, and I will be there. Don't worry, you won't have to stall him long. Just a few moments."
"What I have to say to him will take longer than that."
"Will," she cautioned, "don't be a hero. You'll know when I'm gone. Then you count to three, and you let him go and get far away."
"I will," he said, neither one really sure whether he really meant it.

Janelle stood up to go. Will followed her to the door, reaching past her to give the knob just the right tug.

Her hand caressed his good cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice breaking to a whisper.

"I'll see you when you come back for him," Will replied earnestly.

 

Will watched her leave from the window. A glass of water and two Tylenol would help with the pain when he woke up.

As he lay down, he felt his heart begin to beat faster. This would not be an ordinary trip through Dream.

He had to face another Dreamer -- one who'd held Will in Dream and chased him across Shifts, who'd hurt him. Will had only escaped by using his worst nightmare.

But it was that scary meeting that showed Will what was possible. And two could play at that game...

Will clenched his fists tight, breathing deeply, counting ten, nine, eight, seven...

 

Will stands up. He sees himself on the couch, breathing deeply.

He focuses.
The world fades away, leaving only darkness.
Will lets himself fade into it...
... and threads begin to appear. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. More than he should be able to see. And he realizes he isn't seeing them. This isn't a space of light, it is a space of mind, of feeling.
He remembers as a child being afraid of the dark -- the darkness is where crashes happen. He remembers feeling this sea of mind all around him, being afraid of it, bouying himself above it in the visual.

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