Cast of Characters:

Major Characters:

Stella Saint: Protagonist.

Denise Moore: Stella's friend and an intelligent psychology major.

Leona: A lesbian felina.

Minor Characters:

Jonathan Wood: A businessman and Stella's boyfriend.

Clark Dawson: Denise's classmate.

Crewmember: A burly man employed at McDonald's.

Lupe: A call girl.

Receptionist: A redhead employed at Baisamé Hotel.

And she woke up in her dim-lighted boudoir. That vivid and weird dream had roused her again. It had been disturbing her for five consecutive nights. Stella could not ignore it even though she was a realist. Dreaming about the grey girl was a terrible thing for her but Jonathan Wood, her boyfriend, used to say that she would drive a lesbian crazy with her stunning beauty.

Stella was 28 years old. She had an oval face. It looked alluring due to wide-set brown eyes, thick eyelashes, straight nose, and heart-shaped lips. Her honey blonde hair was long, glossy, and copious. Moreover, she was endowed with an hourglass figure and inviting looks. Jonathan loved to fondle and suck her full tits; 36E bras were fit for them. He used to stroke along her wide hips and squeeze her plump ass-cheeks. Since he was a good tease, she always urged him to eat her out and he complied with her avidly. When she was ready for him, he fucked her to his gratification.

Stella blinked at the ceiling. She was recalling her dream. A cold jet from the air conditioner caressed her and she felt the dankness between her thighs. Hence, she reached down and touched herself. "Ah! Not again," she said.

Stella sat up and pushed her fingers deep. They got soaked within her lubed pussy. The top sheet, already laid in a mess beside her, was not worth a damn. She raised her hand to observe her cum. Then, she felt the bed sheet. There was a wet spot between her legs. "Shit," she said.

Stella turned her eyes to look at the wall clock. It was 6 a.m. She never changed the bed sheet or showered at late night before that nagging dream. While speculating on it, she resolved to communicate with her bosom friend. Hence, she took her cell phone from the nightstand and browsed through the Contacts folder to locate Denise Moore. She texted her: I need to talk to you. Call me when you get up.

Denise called her after two hours. "Hi", answered Stella.

"Hey! What's the news, Ella?" Denise asked.

"All is well," she said.

"Whew! Girl, you had me worried."

"I'm sorry Denni," Stella apologized, "but you are the only person I open my heart to."

"Well thanks, but don't tell me Jonathan wasn't with you last night."

"Oh, you know he can't be here yet," said Stella. Jonathan was out in Atlanta for some business transaction.

"Yeah, he hasn't been here for six days. Hey! Are you both planning something terrible? I hope he isn't running away."

"Shut up! It's a dream I want to talk to you about."

"You want to talk about a-WHAT?"

"It's a dream."

"What a big surprise! Ok, I'm ready."

Stella recounted her dream from A to Z and said, "That's all."

"Oh my," said Denise, "what a fabulous cat! It can transform itself into a lesbo, a silhouette, and someone invisible who can speak into your mind. Oh how I wish to have such a pet!"

"DENNI, that's just a dream!"

"Yeah, and what a great dream it is!"

"Are you kidding? That dream of yours has shaken me up, OKAY."

"It isn't my dream, sweetie. You are the one who had it."

"Ah, please Denni! I can't sleep well. That stupid dream is disturbing me every night and-I don't know WHY?"

"That is a very good question but you have to wait for an answer until-7 p.m."

"Ok. Should I call you then?"

"Gosh! How can you forget? Today is FRIDAY."

Stella gasped. She and Denise used to go out on Friday nights. "Oh yeah," she said. "You're right! That dream is really getting on my nerves."

"I understand, baby. We need to work something out for this. Um-right now, I'll go and see Clark. He has been so helpful and supportive you know, and..."

"Oh Ella, he's so sweet, so dashing, so charming," Stella said mimicking Denise's accent. Clark Dawson, a psychology major, was a handsome guy. He was carrying out research into dreams. Denise and other female classmates fancied him, but he seemed too busy to be interested.

"Er-well, see you then," said Denise and she ended her call. Stella chuckled, and she put her cell phone back on the nightstand. She spent her time watching television, eating her lunch, and taking a nap.

Stella slept like a log until six thirty-five. Her jaw dropped as she looked at the wall clock. "Gosh! I've taken a long siesta," she said. "Denni will kill me for sure."

Stella removed the top sheet hastily, got out of bed, and walked over to the wardrobe. She opened it, and looked at her dresses. "Aha," she said. "This will be spot-on." She chose a red sheath dress with patent belt. Then, she stooped down to her shoe cabinet and fished out a pair of matching heels.

After attiring herself, Stella put on some make-up and combed her hair. Her lips curved into a smile as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. "Wow," she said, "I love you darling. You're so..."

Stella froze as she noticed a young girl who stood behind her. She sported a boy crop hairstyle. Her round face was pleasant, yet it had an apprehensive expression owing to the prominent green eyes and downward-turning lips. She had a grey complexion and pointed ears, which made her look inhuman.

Stella turned around but to her astonishment, there was no sign of the grey girl. When she looked back at the mirror, she could only see her reflection.

Stella frowned. 'That's strange, really strange, ' she wondered. 'A girl who doesn't exist but I can see her in the mirror, and she resembles the lesbian in my dream. Golly! Am I losing my mind? Perhaps I've been thinking too much about her.'

The alert tone startled her. She picked up the cell phone. Denise had sent her a message and she read it: Where the heck are you? I'm at McDonald's, watching people like an imbecile. She replied: Hang on dear. I'm on my way. Then, she took her white handbag and got out to the carport.

Stella stopped in her tracks as she saw a grey tabby sitting on the hood of her Mercedes-Benz. The cat fixed its minty green eyes on her. It was watchful and ready to flee if she made a move. Instead, she stared at the animal and felt that it was a look-alike of the cat in her dream. Then, she shook her head. "That's absurd," she said. "It isn't necessary to correlate any tabby with the one in my dream."

The tabby mewed. It leaped down and disappeared behind the car. Stella resumed walking, and opened the car door. She cast a glance at her right but the cat was nowhere in sight.

Stella arrived at McDonald's in 15 minutes. She found her bespectacled friend at a corner table. Denise had no sex appeal. She did not often groom herself. As always, her freckled face looked pale and her brown hair was messy.

The two beamed at each other. Stella walked over to the table and Denise stood up to greet her. They exchanged quick pecks on cheeks and took their seats together.

"Ella, my dear," said Denise, "I was wondering why you didn't show up here in time. What took you so long?"

"Er-I'm sorry. Actually, I took a nap."

"I see. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"That is great news! Let's see what is going to happen tonight," said Denise, "and you don't have to say sorry. I am chill. Okay?"

"Yeah, I can see that. Thank you for your assurance."

Denise laughed. She turned her head to look at the counter and signaled a crewmember. When he came to their table, she told him to bring two Big Mac Combo meals. He nodded and retreated.

"You are in the mood, I guess," said Stella as Denise looked back at her. "Did Clark say anything special when you met him?"

"Nah," said Denise, "he's too tough to ride the wagon. Cause, he always keeps his nose to the grindstone. You know, he's not like Jonathan."

"Yeah I know."

"So, I wondered how I could ask him. However, I managed to do so!"

"Brilliant! You asked him out for a date and he agreed, right?"

"Tut! It wasn't the date, silly. I asked him to lend me the thesis for today."

"Oh! Ok."

"He complied with me. I thanked him, went to the library, and skimmed through his thesis there. It's really a swell stuff on dreams."

"Cool! Did you find anything on my dream?"

"Yeah, I found some remarkable interpretation and wrote it down with my conclusion," Denise said. She noticed that a deep furrow appeared on Stella's forehead. "Do you want to read? Well, I think you must," she told her.

Denise opened her black handbag. She took out a rolled-up sheet of paper and passed it to her friend. Stella unrolled it and began to read:

Stella looked up at her friend. "Well," Denise asked her, "what do you think?"

"I don't get anything," said Stella.

"Really? There's nothing unclear about this interpretation."

"You've written at the end that I must explore my real sexuality."

"Correct."

"What is this real sexuality anyway?"

"The answer to your question can be found in the conclusion," said Denise.

"Ah! Can't you answer me plainly?"

"Ok. To put it another way, you're a bisexual."

"NO WAY, that's ridiculous!"

"No, it isn't. Just tell me why you dream of a lesbian catgirl every night?"

"I don't know."

"Alright. Why do you wake up wet after having this dream?"

"You know, I have no idea."

"Of course I know, but you must realize the consequences of sleep deprivation."

"So what is the connection between my sexuality and the sleep deprivation?"

"Well, I have no reason to believe that they aren't connected. The human mind is extremely complex. If you keep it satisfied, everything goes fine with you. If an underlying desire is held back, it may lead one to anxiety or frustration. In your case, the outcome is an erotic dream."

"I see, but you are forgetting one thing. I wasn't disturbed when I took a nap today."

"Are you jumping to conclusions? Still, I cannot say that you won't be having this dream tonight. You need to explore your unconscious, my dear."

"There is no such thing as unconscious, I tell you."

"I'm really amazed! In spite of that, you can have a dream and it recurs every night depriving you of a sound sleep. Can you tell me, why?"

Stella had no answer to her question. 'I think Denni makes sense, ' she thought. 'Perhaps I love to be with women and need to explore that so-called unconscious, but how?'

The crewmember came to serve the ordered meals at their table. He turned around and walked back to the counter. Denise began to eat. She noticed that Stella was contemplating on something. "You aren't eating the Big Mac," she said. "They are making it smaller but-it's yummy as always."

"I was thinking that..."

"All this dream interpretation is simply pointless, right?"

"No. It's about exploring the sexuality or that-unconscious."

"Now you're talking! It's the only thing that can stop your dream."

"How can it stop my dream?"

"Well, have you heard of diverting a prospect?"

Stella frowned. "No, I haven't," she replied curtly.

"Ok. I believe this dream is the warning of a future event," Denise went on. "You know, either a recurring dream or the precognition does signify something imminent."

"If something is going to happen to me, I'll be ready to face it. Why should I bother stopping the dream?"

"I can see, you have no idea about the consequences of sleep deprivation. Do you want to live with memory loss, depression, red puffy eyes, malaise, and hallucination?"

Stella stared at Denise. It occurred to her that she could perceive that inhuman girl again. "Goodness," she exclaimed, "you are scaring me!"

"I'm trying to help you. Cause, you can't wait for a female shapeshifter coming out of the blue and meet you someday."

Stella sighed. "Yeah," she said, "and I know that's impossible."

"Of course, it is. That's why you need to divert the prospect of having sex with some catgirl or a mysterious female lover. Just enact your dream and it won't disturb you again."

Stella laughed.

"That's not a joke," Denise told her. "You must ask a girl for one nightstand."

"What! Are you serious?"

"Oh, you know I'm damn serious!"

Stella's face fell. "Er-I think you are," she said.

"Remember, it's the only solution to save your mental health."

"Will it be easy for me to ask any girl for sex?"

"No, but you may ask a call girl."

Stella gasped, "A call girl! But Denni, I can't do that," she said.

"I think," said Denise, "you are worried about Jonathan's reaction if he ever knows this."

"Yes, he'll go mad and I don't want to lose him."

"Baby, it isn't the free love in your case. I assure you, he won't get a hint of what you're going to do. Nothing will be ruined between him and you."

"But..."

"Trust me, Ella."

Stella made a face, "I hate to do that," she said.

"I understand, but don't you see? A call girl can be a wild and cunning female lover whom you've never met before."

"I don't know if there are any lesbian call girls."

"Um-I know only one, but she is a bisexual. I can hire her for you."

"Give me a break! I had no idea of your acquaintance with a call girl."

"Please, don't misjudge me! I am not a solicitor to Lupe. I met her three months ago because I received the assignment to write an essay on the mentality of call girls and escorts. However, I needed some authentic source of information. I knew that one of my classmates was her regular client. Therefore, I consulted him for her cell number. He smirked and gave me her number. I called her and she answered. I asked her if she entertained female clients as well and she asserted that she did. I told her to come and meet me here."

"Ok. What happened then?"

"She agreed and we met the day after. A call girl doesn't entertain anybody except her clients, but she went on with answering my questions for a thousand bucks."

"A thousand bucks! But that's too much for an essay."

"Yeah, I don't give a damn what it costs. An A+ is my goal."

"Hum-will she believe that you really want to hire her for a client this time?"

"She will, my dear Ella! Just offer her a handsome amount and she's yours."

"How much will you offer her?"

"As a matter of fact, I won't call Lupe until you have this dream tonight-I mean, if you are disturbed again."

Stella wanted to say something but a purring sound startled her. She and Denise looked down. They found a grey tabby standing under their table. It was staring up at Denise.

Stella frowned. The tabby looked akin to the one she had seen about 45 minutes ago. Her eyes averted to Denise, who neither blinked nor gave a start as the cat jumped and settled itself on her lap. Denise's lips curved into a smile. She began to stroke the cat. "That's like a good kitty," she said.

'Denni never told me that she has a pet, ' Stella wondered. She asked her, "Denni, is this your cat?"

Denise looked at Stella. "No," she replied, "but she's so cute, isn't she? I'd love to take her home."

"Erm-ok," said Stella. "Suit yourself!"

The two ate their meals. Denise paid the bill. They got up and walked out of McDonald's. Stella cast a glance at the tabby in Denise's arms. Its eyes had a cold lingering stare. She shivered inwardly.

"If you have this dream tonight, just text me," Denise told her as she got into her Nissan.

"Sure," Stella answered, "but don't cuddle much with this cat. No one feels easy for having watery eyes, itchy nose, and sore throat."

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "I bet she isn't the shapeshifter in your dream," she said.

"Yeah," Stella said. "Take care!"

"I wish you the same," Denise said, flashing a smile.

Stella arrived home and went straight to her boudoir. She stripped herself, stretched out abed, and began to reflect on everything Denise had told her. When she pondered on enacting her dream, Lupe's vision came to her mind. She closed her eyes and felt a twitch in her cunt as she imagined that the call girl was eating her out. She moaned and reached down to finger her pussy. After a while, she dozed off.

Her eyes flew open. She blinked, and came to her senses in a moment. The very first idea that sprang to her mind was that she had really screamed. Because, her dream was more dramatic than it was last time. 'Denni was in my dream tonight, ' she thought. 'What will she say if I tell her that?'

Stella reached down to touch herself and felt no disgust for the moisture that had seeped out of her pussy. She sat up, ran her fingers through her untidy hair, and looked up at the wall clock. It was three-oh-eight.

Stella resolved to text Denise and she took her cell phone from the nightstand. On the second thought, she put it down and lay back. She rolled on her sides to no avail and spent the rest of the night sleeplessly.

The next morning, she called Denise at seven fifty.

"Hey," Denise answered her. "How was your night, Ella?"

"I had it again," Stella said.

"Oh, I was expecting that. I bet you had a sleepless night then."

"Yeah, and this time you were in the dream."

"Holy cow, I'd love to hear that! Tell me," she said and Stella related her last night's dream.

"Hum-it looks like you were thinking about our chat before dozing off," said Denise.

"Of course, b-but how do you know?"

"That's obvious, baby. I'm still positive that you need to follow my suggestion."

"Ok. Are you going to call Lupe now?"

"That's right. I'll make sure she agrees to meet you tonight."

"Thanks for helping me."

"You're welcome, my friend."

"Oh Denni, you know I'm really sick of this dream!"

"I understand. The solution seems as strange as your problem, but I'm glad you've realized how serious this matter is."

"That's because I trust you."

"Cool. I'll tell you when everything is done. See ya," said Denise ending the call.

Stella followed her example. She waited for Denise's call all day long; therefore, she could not take a nap. Her patience was rewarded at 6 p.m.

"I've got good news for you," Denise told her.

Stella could perceive the excitement in her friend's voice. She grinned and asked, "So Lupe has agreed to come and meet me, right?"

"Yeah, she agreed to meet you but she won't come at your place."

"What do you mean?"

"Um-I went to Baisamé Hotel and got a room booked in the name of Silvia Sade."

Stella frowned. "Silvia Sade? I've never heard of her," she said. "And-why did you book a room in her name?"

"That's because it's your name-a fake name."

"What! You've told them a fake name for booking?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to show your real name and address. People often do that when they go somewhere for one nightstand with call girls or escorts."

Stella raised her eyebrows. It was a clever strategy. Jonathan would never know about her adventure with Lupe. "You're sharper than I've judged you," she said.

"Thanks for the compliment. You must reach there around eight o'clock. They will ask you for nothing except the name and the room number."

"Great! What's the room number?"

"It's 19. Get the key at reception, and wait in the room for her. She will check in shortly afterward."

"Ok."

"Well, don't forget to inform me when you see her. Good luck!"

Stella wanted to thank her but the call was dropped. She sighed, put her cell phone on the nightstand, and went into the TV lounge to watch her favorite show. About an hour before eight, she took out the plum swimsuit with matching skirt and satin heels. She wore them and began to groom herself. There was a hint of bags and blemishes under her eyes. Therefore, she had to put on some extra make-up for the minimizing effect.

Stella got into her car at seven forty-five and headed off to Baisamé Hotel. She reached there in 25 minutes, and entered the lobby. Men and women turned their heads to look at her. She walked past them, smiling inwardly.

The receptionist was a cheeky redhead. She cast a questioning glance at Stella.

"Um-a room was booked here in my name." Stella told her.

"May I know your name and the room number, ma'am?"

"Yes, of course. My name is Silvia Sade. It's Room 19."

"I'll check the entries. Please wait," said the receptionist. Her fingers moved deftly on the keyboard. She pursed her lips and looked up at Stella. "Yes Ma'am," she told her. "It was booked this eve at four thirty-eight."

"Ok. How can I find it?"

"On the second floor, it's the fourth room to the left."

"Thank you," said Stella.

"One moment please, ma'am." said the receptionist. She opened a drawer, fished out the room key, and held it out to her.

Stella smiled at her and took the key. She climbed the stairs, found the door to Room 19, unlocked it, and went inside.

The room was spacious, well lighted, and air-conditioned. She saw her reflection in the wall-mounted mirror; the door closed automatically behind her. She looked around. The floriated drapery matched elegantly with the pink wallpaper and fancy wall lights. There was a king-size bed with two nightstands. A couple of chairs and the TV set with mahogany cabinet stood opposite the bed.

The interior of the room did not fascinate her. She frowned. "It looks like," she spoke, "I've been here already, but when?" The next moment, she got her answer with an astounding realization. She was standing in the very room of her dream!

Instantly, a clicking sound startled her. She turned around. The door was opening smoothly. She asked, "Who's there?"

A slim woman was standing in the doorway. Stella stared at her. The woman stepped inside. She was dressed into a white button-down shirt and grey trousers.