Dream to Reality
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Fiction, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Kate's dreams are colourful, but she finds reality is much better.
She had dreamed again last night, the dream that had returned to her three times in as many weeks unbidden, insidiously creeping into her sleep and as before she had wakened, her body wet with perspiration, the sheet beneath her damp and her vulva and thighs slick with her lubrication. Sighing heavily she got up and stripped the sheets carrying them through to the bathroom to dump them in the linen basket, another load for the washing machine. Kate turned the shower on and cleaned her teeth allowing the temperature of the water to settle. Her grandmother had once told her that Horses sweat, Men perspire but Ladies only glow. She smiled to herself ruefully; perhaps the Ladies that her grandmother referred to did not have the sort of dream that she had last night. The shower washed away the physical evidence of her dream, but it couldn't erase the afterthoughts from her mind. Why? Why was she having this dream and why was it always the same?
As she dressed and put on her make up, the graphic images came back to her. She was in a large, windowless, low ceiling room. Why or how she got there the dream did not explain, but then they never do. There was some light, soft light insufficient to carry, leaving the rest of the room in gloom. She sensed but didn't see others who stayed back in the shadows waiting for her. It was senses rather than sight that imprinted impressions on her mind which then processed them endeavouring to make sense. The mind could only work with personal experience so her mind had no basis on which to rationalise these impressions. It was very quiet, tense as if waiting for someone to move. In the centre of the room there was a low wide footstool, wide enough to take a body and upholstered in some black soft fabric. The light centred on that yet it wasn't under a spotlight. Subconsciously she knew that the sensed but unseen figures needed her to take the first step. Tentatively she moved, a compulsion growing inside her to spread herself out on the stool. Hands, soft hands appeared out of the gloom, and gently removed her clothes encouraging her towards the footstool, where she was helped to lay down. Completely nude she opened her arms and legs; apprehensively waiting whatever was going to happen. The dream always ended there, yet her memory carried over to her conscious logically arriving at the conclusion that someone would possess her body. Perhaps one person as others watched lasciviously, panting with lust. Perhaps it could be more than one lover? Was the lover a man or a woman, or men and women? Her mind asked these questions and found no answers. Kate had never consciously given thought to making love with another woman, yet here in her dream she was accepting that might happen.
Breakfast consisted of a quick cup of tea and a banana. Kate sorted through the fruit bowl and dropped an apple into her bag for later. The roads were not too busy this morning and in her nippy Mini-Cooper she arrived at work unstressed by traffic. It was a Friday so Stuart, her boss would be in today. He was also the owner of the business, and she, Kate was the sole employee. He was an Agent and had many agencies with companies that made or wholesaled sundries for the Soft Furnishing and Upholstery trades. Stuart was an extremely good salesman, but at the other extreme absolutely useless at administration. Before Kate came to work for him his desk was piled high with papers, none of which he ever filed. The result was orders never processed, annual accounts not filed and huge demands from the Inland Revenue, which he had to pay because he couldn't prove the true figures. She had brought order to the chaos and Stuart was delighted to find that he was making more money than he thought, and could easily afford her salary. He promptly gave her an increase. Meg, Stuart's wife was often in the office. At first Kate thought that Meg was making sure that she would not get too familiar with her husband. Over time they became good friends and Kate realised that Meg had never considered her a threat.
The first thing that she would do on arrival at the two-room office suite was make a cafetiere of coffee. Stuart was an inveterate coffee drinker and over the course of the day, more ground coffee would be added with more hot water, the eventual brew being very black, thick and from Kate's point of view undrinkable. Her boss loved it!
Stuart breezed in about nine-thirty.
"Good morning, treasure. God I'm gasping for a cup of coffee. Be a sweet and get me one would you?"
"Good morning, Boss. It's already on your desk."
"You're a life-saver."
"Was it a good trip?" Kate asked.
"Yeah, it wasn't bad. Let me get some coffee inside me and I'll let you have the orders." He entered his office. Moments later Kate heard the flick of his lighter and the coughing as he drew heavily on his cigarette. She got a note pad and followed him. The cigarette was dangling from his lips, ash forming on the end. The ash would eventually fall down onto his jacket, more would be added from the thirty or so he would smoke during the day. She opened the office window. He held out to her a small pocket notebook. In there would be quickly scratched orders in Stuart's unique shorthand. It had taken her some time to decipher his notes at first. Now it was only rarely that she had to ask him for a translation. Then he set about emptying his pockets. They were full of small scraps of paper, torn envelopes, petrol receipts, hotel bills and parking stubs. Kate collected all of these, smoothing the papers out and trying to put sense to them. She recognised many as orders which she made into one pile and the receipts in another. When she had collected all the scraps of paper she took them with her to her office. It would probably take her most of the day and well into next week to post all the orders onto the computer, which would then print out the order for sending on to the supplier.
"I'll get on with these." She told Stuart. "You're sure they're all here?" He smiled at her sheepishly.
"You had better go through the glove box in the car." He handed her the keys. "I could well have left some in there."
"I know, I know. But you love me really." He wheedled.
Kate heard him on the phone most of the morning; from time to time he would come through and place hastily written notes on her desk, more orders the result of his phone calls. At the same time he would top up his coffee then get back to the phone. Just before twelve thirty he told her he was going out for a lunch appointment.
"I've got to smooch Ben Hadley. He's looking for about ten thousand metres of flameproof lining. It would be nice to pick that up." Kate looked up at him, sighed and opened her drawer for the clothes brush. She handed it to him.
"You have a bad case of Dandruff, Boss." She pointed out the cascade of cigarette ash down his jacket.
"Oh shit!" He took the brush and vigorously applied it to his lapels. "Is that better?"
"You'll pass." He grinned.
"I'll be back about three."
Kate searched in her bag and found the apple. She made a cup of tea and then sat quietly taking a break for lunch. Unbidden pictures from the dream came to her. If it had just been once she wouldn't have given it further thought, but it re-occurred, and was almost exactly the same. She had read somewhere that dreams were the way the sub-conscious aired ideas and desires that the conscious mind kept hidden. She couldn't go along with that hypothesis; all she had ever wanted was the 'man'. Kate was programmed by her upbringing and experience to want a partner who would fulfil her, keeping her with love and tenderness all their life together. That was normal. Her mother once had that.
Daddy was the most caring and loving man. He worked hard to keep his family, giving them all the comfort and security they needed. Six years ago he had to go into hospital for a routine operation. Appendectomy was a routine op even in those days. But C. Difficile was not minor, and daddy had contracted that. Within ten days he was dead. Kate was eighteen at the time and with his death had lost her anchor and her guide. The hospital denied responsibility, saying that he had the infection when he came in. Their own records that took months and a Court order to obtain proved that to be an evasion. Eventually the High Court judged them negligent and given her father's work and his expectations awarded them two million pounds in damages, plus costs which came to almost three quarters of a million pounds. The hospital administrators had gone for the low bid cleaning company. It saved them twenty thousand pounds per annum. The penny pinching cost them two and three quarter million pounds. The Chief Executive of the hospital trust still paid himself three hundred thousand a year and never even considered resigning. Arrogance and indifference, the usual attitude of Government bureaucracy takes precedence over the people they were supposed to serve. Her mother decided that they would sell the family home, a home that had too many memories and they bought the apartment that Kate lived in today. Then after three years Mummy had a life change epiphany; she started going to the Gym to exercise and having recovered her lithe figure took advantage of the hairdressers and beauty salons shedding ten years of age in the process. She packed her bags with smart and revealing cocktail dresses, miniscule bikinis and silk sarongs and went off to the South of France, where she and daddy had often taken holidays and become good friends with a couple who lived there. She would return from time to time, regaling Kate with tales of luxurious Villas, elegant restaurants and bronzed young gods, who entertained her. Her daughter knew well what she meant when she described them as 'entertaining'. Did she find fault with her mother? No. She had kept her side of the marriage vows to her husband, and his death was probably a lesson. Live now as tomorrow you may be dead. Now she tasted the high life for as long as it lasted. Perhaps, Kate thought, it was her mother's tales that had inspired these dreams, or perhaps her own buried libido. This long mental soliloquy was interrupted by Stuart's wife Meg.
Meg was a frequent caller. She would usually bring with her some cake or other edible delight to share with Kate. They had become firm friends so much so that Meg would often invite her over for a meal when Stuart was away. She said she was lonely at those times. Kate was a little disinclined to believe that, as Meg would also talk about other friends. The edible delight today was a Quiche.
"Kate, I got this quiche from the deli. Its mushroom and spinach and looks delicious, would you like some?"
"Meg. I have just had my lunch." Meg looked dubious.
"I know what you call lunch, let me guess. It was an Orange, a Banana or even maybe an Apple." Her eyes sought the evidence and found the apple core in wrapped up in tissue. "Aha! I was right, an Apple." She shook her head sorrowfully. "If you don't eat something more than that, you'll never have the strength to keep up with those fit boyfriends of yours. Just think of all the sex you are missing just because you are tired and have to sleep." Kate smiled at her friend's assumption.
"The chance would be a fine thing." she replied cynically. "I get offers and some will even include dinner and an evening out as well. But the blokes who make the offers are not the ones I care to go out with."
"That is a shame." Meg was smiling. "Why don't the men appeal to you?"
"Well. Let's put it this way. If I have gone to a lot of trouble, showering, make up, hair done and getting a nice dress to wear, I would think it appropriate if he would go to the same trouble."
"What wear a dress?" Meg laughed.
"No Meg. You know what I mean. A clean ironed shirt instead of a T shirt and a pair of slacks with a crease pressed in where the crease should be, not a tatty pair of Jeans. A jacket rather than a Fleece would also be good. It's not much to ask for."
"You're not moving in the right circles, my girl. You need to adjust your environment."
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"It's difficult to describe without sounding class conscious. But you will understand when you are there. Stuart's away again next week, isn't he?" Kate consulted the desk diary where she kept a record of his movements, wondering about Meg's sudden change of topic
"Yes. He's off to the North of England and then Scotland."
"Right. Well you can take a day off next week and we will go out together, we'll do lunch and see if we can find you the right environment for the man of your dreams." That brought a blush to Kate's cheeks. The word dreams reminding her that the man of her dreams was faceless and probably more than one. Forcing a normal tone to her voice she thanked Meg.
"Sounds good, Meg. But can you guarantee the man?"
"Oh, I have some ideas." She replied mysteriously.