I had so much fun that I’m going back again,
I wonder what’ll happen with Love Potion Number Ten?
– “Love Potion Number Nine”

Saturday Night

Paul was dreaming and he knew he was dreaming. Some dreams you thought were real, but not this one; it was a definitely a dream. He was lounging on a poolside deck watching the trees in his back yard. Sun, blue sky, a few small white clouds and a cooling breeze. The pool and deck weren’t his, they belonged to Ms. Regnier, the mother of his daughter’s best friend, Antoinette. Besides being in the wrong yard, the dream deck and pool were at least twice the size of the originals.

Two voices alerted him to the arrival of his daughter, Diane, and Antoinette. Yet another sign that this was a dream. Tonight he was alone in the house as Diane was sleeping over with Antoinette. They alternated sleepovers most Saturdays; Antoinette had been here last Saturday night and would likely be here again in a week’s time.

“Hi, Mr. P,” Antoinette greeted him brightly as she made for a lounger and spread her towel. The young black woman had wonderfully smooth teenage skin, most of which she was showing off in her very skimpy yellow bikini. He’d seen her in a bikini before, but the dream version was hardly there at all.

“Hello Antoinette,” he replied. Always her full name; she had made it very clear that she didn’t want to be called Toni or anything else, always Antoinette.

A “Hi Dad,” reminded him that Diane was here as well. Her bikini was dark green and even smaller than her friend’s. In real life he’d have commented about her wearing something like that. In a dream? Well, dreams weren’t real and she was very pleasant to look at, even though she was his daughter.

Both teens were soaking up the sun with their eyes closed, so Paul took the opportunity to look over the two nineteen-year-olds. What was the point of a dream if you couldn’t misbehave a little? Antoinette had the curvier build, larger breasts which almost escaped from her tiny top and generous hips below a narrow waist. With her hourglass figure she’d never be a catwalk model. Diane was more towards the catwalk look: blonde, smallish breasts, less of a waist due to her narrower hips and long slim legs. He was careful not to ogle her in real life – a father shouldn’t do stuff like that – but in a dream...

He was staring at Diane when movement from Antoinette’s lounger caught his eye. She had produced some sun-lotion and was spreading it on her legs.

“Oh good,” Diane said. “Can I have some of that when you’ve finished?”

“Sure, but there’s not much left,” her black friend replied.

Paul watched as Antoinette spread the cream on her legs. They weren’t as long as Diane’s and her muscular thighs were definitely larger. A pleasant contrast to his daughter.

When she’d finished doing her legs she casually removed her bikini top, turning slightly towards Paul to drop it on the deck. He couldn’t help but look, this dream brought out the voyeur in him. He’d imagined she’d have large areolae like some of the black models on the net. She didn’t; small areolae and her nipples weren’t stiff like a porn model’s. She laid back and started spreading sun-cream over them. They looked good from the side, self-supporting teenage tits with hardly any sag at all.

“Here you are Diane.” Antoinette’s voice broke him out of his reverie on the appearance of nineteen-year-old women’s breasts.

“Thanks,” his daughter replied, reaching over to take the bottle.

Paul got another show as Diane spread the lotion on her long slim legs. Neither of them seemed to notice him ogling Antoinette’s boobs and they ignored him staring at his daughter. What would Diane do when she’d finished her legs? Antoinette’s top was still lying where she’d left it, so he had a nice side view of her nearer breast as she relaxed. Just as well he had his trunks to cover his growing erection.

He should have guessed, the two of them thought too much alike. Once she’d finished her legs, Diane reached behind her back and took off her green bikini top. They were beautiful, just beautiful: smallish and firm, with her nipples set in small pink areolae. They were exactly the way his wife’s breasts had looked when he’d met her. It was no criticism of Antoinette to say that he preferred Diane’s.

Feeling guilty, he checked to see if either of them had noticed him staring. They hadn’t. Antoinette was relaxing with her eyes closed and Diane was concentrating on getting the last of the lotion out of the bottle.

“Damn! It’s empty,” Diane complained. “Have you got any more, Antoinette?”

“No, that’s the last of it.”

“Don’t you have anything? If I put my top back on I’ll get tan lines, and if I leave it off I’ll go all red.”

“Yeah, I can get you something,” Antoinette replied. Looking directly at Paul, she told him, “Come over here Mr. P.”

Puzzled, he got up off his lounger, hoping his erection wasn’t too obvious. Antoinette directed him to stand by Diane. He complied, getting a closer look at his daughter’s sexy teen breasts while she smiled up at him.

Antoinette stood behind him, reached round and started rubbing his hard-on through his trunks. “You want to help Diane, don’t you, Mr. P?” She pressed her naked breasts into his back.

“But...” he protested. Suddenly the sensations from his cock changed, stopping him in mid-sentence. Antoinette wasn’t rubbing him through his trunks any more – she was rubbing him, period. His trunks had disappeared and he was naked in front of his daughter, his erection easily visible as Antoinette massaged it.

Antoinette was talking breathily in his ear, “Diane needs more cream. You can help her. Give her the cream she needs, squirt it right on her boobs.” Her hand changed from an open-palm rub to grasping his shaft and masturbating him. “Cum for Diane, she needs it. Look at those lovely tits. You wouldn’t want them to get sunburned, would you, Mr. P? Cover them with your cream.”

Diane smiled up at him, hands cupping her breasts, offering them to him. “Yes Daddy, I need your cream on my titties. Cream me Daddy, cream me!” Her blue eyes switched between his face and his cock, spending more time on his cock.

Paul could sense the anticipatory tingle in his balls. He could feel the twin points of Antoinette’s nipples pressed into his back while she stroked him expertly. “Cum for her. Give her your cream. Spray it all over her tits.” Diane was lying below him, waiting for him to unload on her. The sensations were too much, he couldn’t delay any longer and...

He woke up as he came, soaking the pair of boxers he’d worn to bed. He was in his bedroom, alone with his cooling soggy shorts. Shit! He hadn’t had a dream like that for a long time. Maybe he needed to masturbate more often? He wasn’t at all comfortable dreaming about his daughter that way.

In the morning he remembered the dream perfectly. It still puzzled him, he wasn’t a teenager any more so he’d thought that sort of dream was behind him. He looked his age, forty-three. No gray hairs yet, but he knew that was only a matter of time.

Breakfast was Paul’s usual: coffee with a side of coffee. He thought back on his dream. He could understand lusting after Antoinette, she was young, friendly and very good looking. Too young for him in reality, but he didn’t feel too bad about fantasizing over her. Diane ... Diane was different. She was his daughter, and fathers shouldn’t think about their daughters like that. No question she was attractive and she did resemble her mother at that age, but that was not really an excuse. He resolved to spend more time on the net keeping his libido under control.

Diane arrived back from Antoinette’s about ten. She’d enjoyed herself as always, and said hello from Antoinette. She confirmed that her friend would be sleeping over next Saturday night.

The girls had met about five years ago. Diane had just lost her mother to a sudden brain hemorrhage and Antoinette was the new girl in school – Ms. Regnier had recently moved out from the city. At fourteen they both needed a friend and had taken to each other immediately. Paul was relieved that his daughter had a friend, and Antoinette’s mother could offer the female advice and help that he, as a man, could not. Ms. Regnier could see how important Diane’s friendship was to her daughter, so made sure she got on well with both Diane and Paul.

At first the girls were pressing their two single parents to get married. It was an obvious move to the two fourteen-year-olds, but the two adults were happy to stay just friends. Paul was white, thirty-eight, with a six-inch cock and he didn’t fancy being dumped after six months. Ms. Regnier liked young hung black studs who she traded in for a new model every few months. Friendship, but no more than that, was a far better option than marriage for the two adults.

Sunday Night

Paul was dreaming again. He walked into a hotel lobby, trailing his roll-on luggage behind him. The elevators were straight ahead and the reception desk off to his left with a dark-haired woman sitting behind the high counter. As he approached she looked up. She was oriental and wearing something off-the shoulder. Closer still and she was topless! She didn’t seem bothered, so he pretended to ignore her naked breasts with their dark areolae and prominent nipples. Well shaped too. No name badge, but a small sign on the counter said, “Nari”.

“Mr. Paul Parker. I have a reservation,” he told her.

She looked at her computer screen while typing on her keyboard. He took the opportunity to study her breasts more closely: bigger than Diane’s though smaller than Antoinette’s. Very nice.

“Yes sir. I’ll get your key-card.” She stood and walked to the pigeonholes in the back wall. Not topless, naked and showing off her nicely rounded ass. She turned and walked back towards him with his key-card. Neatly trimmed pussy hair with a prominent meaty mound and a lush pair of lips peeking out. She ignored his staring and handed him the card. “Your attendant will be here directly to show you to your room, sir.”

Attendant? Not just an attendant, but Antoinette. A naked Antoinette! “Hello, Mr. P. I’m your attendant during your stay with us.” Was everyone here naked? He quickly checked that he was still dressed; clothes could do strange things in dreams, like his trunks last night. Reassured that he was still in his business suit he followed Antoinette to the elevators. Her hips made a marvelous display of wonderfully curved smooth dark skin. He’d already dreamed of her breasts and now he was seeing more.

The elevator doors slid open immediately and he followed her in. She pressed the button for his floor, though he didn’t notice which one; she was much more interesting to look at than a button.

“You’re working here Antoinette?”

“I need to earn something to help pay for college, and this place is fun.”

“Fun?” he asked, puzzled. Work wasn’t usually fun.

“Yeah, it’s great. We offer a complete service to all our guests.”

Paul was about to ask what she meant when she made it obvious: she dropped to her knees in front of him and unzipped his pants. Somehow he wasn’t surprised, given all the nudity here. He went with the flow and let her work.

“You’ve got a nice one, Mr. P. I’ll like sucking it.” She held his dick out of her way and began licking his balls. Soon she didn’t need to hold him as he quickly stiffened, his cock naturally standing up leaving his sac clear. Her tongue moved up his shaft, moistening it. After a few passes she sat up slightly and took the head into her mouth, her tongue playing with the sensitive tip for a few seconds. She looked up into his eyes and slowly, slowly took his entire length in. He looked down at her face, with its halo of black hair, her warm brown eyes smiling up into his and his cock disappearing into her mouth. All of his cock disappearing. As her red lips reached the root, her throat tightened around his glans. “Shit, that’s good Antoinette.”

Even in a dream she couldn’t talk with her mouth full of his cock. She pulled back and began jacking him lightly to keep him hard.

“Yeah. Mom lets me practice on her boy-toys, and she likes them big.”

“Your mother lets you suck her men?”

“I can’t fuck them, just handjobs and blowjobs. She figures that if I can keep my boyfriends happy that way, then I won’t have to fuck them if I don’t want to.” She stopped any further conversation by taking him all the way into her throat again.

Paul could feel the pressure building in his balls, it would be soon. “Do you swallow?” he asked. He remembered from his dating days, many years ago, that it was polite to ask first.

Antoinette pulled back briefly, “Of course I swallow. Like I said, complete service.” She sucked him in again and went back to work.

Soon he could feel his climax coming. He tried to delay it, managing to hang for a few seconds in that delicious moment when it was inevitable, but hadn’t arrived yet. Then he couldn’t hold it any more and...

He woke to another pair of sodden shorts. Why? He’d jerked off before going to bed so he should have been able to sleep through easily. Then he remembered that Diane was in her room. Had he wakened her? He couldn’t hear anything when he listened, so he got up quietly, dumped his shorts in the en-suite, wiped himself with some tissues and went back to bed in the clean pair he’d put out for tomorrow. At least tonight’s dream hadn’t included Diane, just Antoinette and that Chinese receptionist. He didn’t recognize her, so she was probably just a figment of his imagination. Good figure though.

Over breakfast Diane didn’t mention being wakened in the night, which was reassuring. When he asked her, she said she’d slept right through. He left first for work; Diane would leave later, driving to Antoinette’s so they could go to college together.

Monday Night

Another night, another dream. Paul wondered what was going on. One or two dreams, OK. Three dreams on three consecutive nights? That was definitely unusual. This dream looked ominous as well. He wasn’t in Antoinette’s hotel, he was having his breakfast coffee in a large luxury dream version of his own kitchen. He wasn’t hurting for money, but he didn’t have enough that he could afford an enormous house with a kitchen this big.

“Morning Dad.” Diane arrived, smiling. Damn! Diane. He really didn’t want his daughter in one of these dreams. She’d been in the first one, but back then he hadn’t realized what type of dreams they were. He wasn’t at all happy with how he suspected this one would go.

She was wearing one of her long loose tees – a white one – and, hopefully, panties. Given the way these dreams were panning out, he wasn’t at all sure about the panties.

She didn’t go for her usual fresh fruit. “Dad, can I have some cream for breakfast?”

Cream. Oh no, that got him thinking about the first dream. He was going to say ‘no’ but she moved first. She got down on her knees under the table and reached for his cock. What was it about his clothes in these dreams? They disappeared just before she wrapped her hand around him and started slowly stroking.

“Please Daddy. I want some cream.”

He felt her lips closing around the tip as she took him part way into her mouth. He looked down – the table had disappeared as well as his clothes – to see her working to get her cream. At least she still had her tee on.

She’d obviously sucked a cock before, though she wasn’t as practiced as Antoinette. No deepthroat this time. She didn’t look up either; was she as embarrassed about the situation as he was? All he could see was the top of her head with its wavy blonde hair and his cock disappearing beneath it. She used her hand on his shaft more than Antoinette; not being able to deepthroat she had more of him for her hand to work on.

He knew he shouldn’t let her do this. It was a dream, not real life, but even so he shouldn’t let his dream-daughter suck his cock. That might lead to places he didn’t want to go.

Somehow Diane seemed to know what he was thinking. “Don’t worry, Daddy. This is just a dream. Squirt your tasty cream in my mouth and you’ll wake up.” She swallowed the head of his cock again and got back to work, her tongue swirling around the head of his dick.

Paul could feel the pressure building. Best to get this over with quickly. He concentrated on the sensations he was feeling, trying to ignore who was producing them. Soon the pressure built up to maximum and...

Damn! Another pair of shorts to wash and a dream he definitely didn’t want to remember. He would though, all these strange dreams stayed perfectly clear in his memory. How would he be able to face Diane over breakfast this morning?

He tried to act normally when she came into the kitchen. It was difficult because she was wearing exactly what she’d been wearing in the dream – a long white tee. Strangely, she seemed a little nervous herself this morning.

“Are you all right, Diane?” he asked.

“We’ve got a test this afternoon and I’m not sure I’ve revised enough. I’ll hit the library before lunch.”

Was that right, or was she nervous about last night’s dream? Stupid. How the hell could she know anything about his dream?

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” he reassured her. She probably would. She was a good solid student, in the top third of her classes. Except for history; she never seemed to do so well in history.

Tuesday Night

To Paul’s relief tonight’s dream was back in the hotel. He was following Antoinette down a corridor and watching the delicious sway of her naked ass. By now he was resigned to having these dreams every night; he hadn’t even bothered to jerk off before going to bed. He had a pair of shorts on of course, no point in messing the sheets.

Antoinette stopped at the door to his room – number Sixty-nine, inevitably. He had the key-card, so he let them both in. He parked his luggage while Antoinette sat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve had my mouth, Mr. P. Do you want my pussy or my ass next?” She leaned back on her elbows, parting her legs, giving him a good view of the two choices she was offering. She obviously took the hotel’s promise of complete service to guests very seriously.

She had a small trimmed triangle above her pussy, short like a well-groomed beard, with the rest waxed away. Her labia were already a little shiny with her lubrication. She looked at him from between her breasts, “Well?”

“Could we talk for a bit?”

“First pick a hole and put it in, then we can talk.”

“OK, pussy then.” He tried to undo his suit jacket, but it had already disappeared along with his other clothes. Antoinette giggled at his confusion. He knelt by the bed and gradually slid his cock into her. He looked down as the head of his dick slowly parted her slick pussy lips. She wasn’t his daughter so he felt nowhere near as guilty as he had with Diane in last night’s dream. Antoinette was nineteen and could make her own choices, even in his dreams. Besides, why turn down a free offer of dream pussy? Very nice smooth tight dream pussy too.

“Mmmm, that’s good. Just fuck me slowly while we talk,” she said, smiling up at him.

She was snug and silky around his cock. He moved gently in and out of her channel, not putting any great effort into it. “Are you and Diane alternating nights?” Paul asked. “I dreamed about her last night and you the night before.”

“You noticed,” she said, smiling. “We take turns, except on Saturday nights of course. We share those.”

“So I’ll dream about Diane tomorrow night and you again on Thursday?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I put in a request for Thursday night?” he asked.

“Sure, what?”

“Could we have a threesome with the Chinese receptionist?”

Antoinette laughed. “Nari isn’t Chinese, her parents are Korean. You can stick it in her, but you can’t cum in her. You wake up when you cum, so you have to cum in me.”

“You know Nari? Why is she in my dream if I don’t know her?”

“Yeah, I know her. She works in the library at college and I based the receptionist on her.”

He was still fucking her slowly. “So you set up these dreams for me?”

“Shit! You weren’t meant to know that.” She looked a little worried that he’d found out.

“Why? What are these dreams for?” he asked.

“Talk to Diane, they’re mostly her idea.” She obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

That disturbed Paul. With all the sex in these dreams, if they were Diane’s idea then the thought of where this could be leading worried him. A lot.

“So you and Diane remember these dreams, just like I do?”

Antoinette ignored his question, and tried to distract him, “Enough talk, more fucking. You’re falling down on the job, Mr. P. I can’t satisfy a guest properly if he doesn’t cooperate.”

Realizing that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of her tonight, he did as she’d asked and concentrated more on the fucking. “I’ve always wanted more teenage pussy. I didn’t get enough when I was a teenager myself, and Heidi was twenty when we married.”

“Well this teenage pussy is happy to be of service to a guest,” Antoinette smiled.

The slow build-up had him near his peak already, so he didn’t last as long as he’d expected. He rammed his last few strokes into her hard, meeting her own hips thrusting back and...

He woke to another pair of wet shorts. He might want to run a pre-soak before the main wash this week to get things properly clean.

He needed to talk to Diane about these dreams. If they were her idea, as Antoinette had said, then perhaps she would explain. Talking to his daughter in real life might be dangerous, what if they were just dreams? No, if the alternating pattern continued he’d be able to talk to her during tonight’s dream.

That was probably the right decision, but it meant that he was almost useless at work that day. He wasn’t able to concentrate on anything except what he was going to say to dream-Diane.

Wednesday Night

The dream pattern held, Paul was in a larger copy of Diane’s bedroom, lying on her bed. She clearly liked setting her dreams in an enlarged version of their house. He had his shorts on, though it was anyone’s guess how long they would last.

Diane came in, dressed in a long tee – blue tonight. She looked worried, the same as Paul felt.

“Antoinette said you’d want to talk, Dad.”

“Yes, I do. Can you explain what these dreams are about? Antoinette said that they were your idea.”

She sat on the edge of the bed by his thigh, then paused, obviously thinking. “You won’t like it,” she told him.

“I suspect not, but I’d prefer to know what’s coming rather than going in blind.”

“OK. It really starts with teenage boys.” Paul cocked an eyebrow to encourage her to continue. “They’re self-obsessed and don’t last more than thirty seconds. As soon as they’ve finished they’re off doing something else with their friends and bragging about what a big stud they are. They’re all assholes.”