Chapter 3

It was the dream again. The women surrounding me, all naked, kissing me, caressing me, pressing their bodies against me, rubbing their breasts, their pussies, their asses against me. I looked at the woman kneeling in front of me, her head bent, stroking my cock. She looked up, her green eyes staring into mine. It was Angela, but a different Angela - younger, beautiful.

"Let me suck you," she whispered. "You wanted that, now you can have it... you can have it all."

My hands on her head, I pulled her to my cock - somehow bigger, thicker. "I want you to come in my mouth," she whispered, her tongue laving my cockhead. Then, holding my rigid organ at the base, she bent forward, circling the firm flesh with her full lips.

With one hand I was caressing Angela's taut breasts, the other hand running through her soft hair. Grabbing the bronze tresses, I pulled her head down... closer and closer, forcing more and more of my erect organ into her.

"I'm coming," I cried out, Angela's mouth tight on my cock, her lips and tongue and hands caressing me. "Mmmm... Mmmm," she moaned, awaiting the juice that would soon fill her mouth.

With a start, I awoke, my cock jetting streams of cum into my shorts. Moaning, I laid back, enjoying the sensation, my mind still full of the dream. Once it was over, I turned on the light, raised the blanket, then pulling up the elastic waistband of my shorts, stared at the viscous mess covering my abdomen and groin, sticking to the cotton fabric of my shorts.

"I never ejacualted during the dream before, and my cum was never like this," I thought. Of course, I had seen my semen many times, but never before had there been so much, nor had it been so thick. Globules of thick, yellowish fluid covered my crotch and abdomen. "Looks like tapioca pudding," I said to myself. And it did. It looked like a cup of yellow-white tapioca pudding had been dumped into the front of my shorts.

Usually, when I ejaculated, it was only about a tablespoon of thin, whitish fluid. This morning, my orgasm had produced this huge quantity of thick, yellowish semen. And it smelled funny too. I could detect a faint, musky odor drifting up from under the blanket - not good, but not really bad either - just unusual. I reached down, touching my fingertips to some of the goo clinging to the waistband of my shorts. Rubbing it on my fingertips, I found it was kind of sticky and slippery at the same time.

I looked at the clock on my bedside table - it was a little past 2:30 in the morning. I got up, went to the bathroom, shucked the cum filled shorts onto the tile floor, then with clean shorts on, I climbed back into bed. Luckily, the there wasn't a wet spot on the bed. Immediately, I fell back into a deep sleep.

When I woke up again I had another tremendous hard on. It was from the dream, another one, with Angela and dozens of women I didn't recognize. My cock was so hard it felt like the skin was stretched more than I could bear. It was almost painful. After coming last night, I thought it might worth the effort to try masturbating. I closed my eyes, thinking of Angela and the others in my dream, but it only took a few strokes for me to realize it was no good. I wasn't going to be able to come for several hours. It seemed my sex organs were back to normal, or at least what was normal for me.

It was almost 10:30 in the morning. I decided I might as well go downtown, have lunch and show up for work at 1:00. That ought to please Mel.

A cold shower helped bring down my erection. After shaving, I got some coffee and turned the tv to CNN, but like last night, I wasn't able to pay attention to the news. All I could think about was what happened with Angela - what she told me. I wasn't even sure I believed her - believed that I had some sort of "power" inside me, but I was willing to give it a try. And what happened last night might serve as kind of evidence there was some truth in what she told me - that I would be changing. Anyway, the way my life had been going, I didn't have anything to lose.

But I wasn't sure about this will thing. How was I supposed to impose my will on others? That was something I didn't have a lot of experience with. Should I stare at them... stare hard, or yell, or just throw a punch? I decided I'd wait until an opportunity presented itself, then see what I could think of.

I quickly checked my e-mail, finding nothing important. I called Nikki, our receptionist at the office, and told her I'd be in about 1:00. "Art, are you sure? Mel said you weren't feeling well and probably wouldn't be in today." I assured her I was feeling much better and would definately be in the office that afternoon.

As I walked out the back door to my car, I heard a loud bang, like a door being slammed, then the cry of a female voice from next door. That unit was a rental, and I knew who lived there. Kristen Corrado, a student at ASU and part time model, lived there with her boyfriend. I stopped for a second and was just beginning to resume my walk toward the parking area when I heard a man's voice followed by a loud female cry, "No,... , " then what sounded like a slap followed by another loud cry.