My dream –

Often where it was and was not well, delightful and not delightful, in those places sometimes a world, as often chaos of crossed trials—have you not halted, as between two moments, and there been mindful, as a man dead and not dead, dying and yet living, of a standstill swiftness: that nothing was not nothing? To see, and yet it was not common sight, nor blindness? A scarcest sight, yet, as a painted picture, more visible than naked spectacle?

I was out for a walk, or perhaps just out in my neighbourhood. As I approached the park, I saw a large crowd in the centre of the park, surrounding the area of the fountain. Normally, I would avoid such a crowd, but curiosity prevailed, urged by the whisperings of destiny.  I crossed the avenue, entered the park, and penetrated the crowd. They were all Chinese, men and women, all straining to catch a glimpse of whatever was transpiring at the fountain. They knew more than I did, certainly, by word of mouth, but their comments to one another did not reveal enough for me to piece it all together. Finally, I broke through to the front of the crowd. Encircling the fountain were guards in uniform. Sitting on a concrete bench near the rim of the rectangular fountain was a woman, totally naked, the fingers of her left hand twisting her left nipple, the fingers of her right hand vigorously kneading her clitoris and labia.

That woman was you.

As I stepped forward to pass the guards, they both reached out to arrest my progress, and verbally ordered me to stop. In Chinese, I said simply, 我认识她. They let me pass. There were whispers amongst the crowd.

As I approached you, you smiled. You did not know me yet. I did not know you yet. To you, I was a foreign man coming towards you, that is all. You did not stop fondling your nipple and your pussy. To me, you were a beautiful woman in need of immediate intimate attention. I stopped in front of you, smiled back at you, then, without saying a word, began to remove all of my clothes. I took everything off, that I might be totally naked as you. You eyes spoke your approval.

Already hard, fully erect, I stepped forward another large step, and gave you my cock. As you were seated, without any strain at all for either of us, my cock was right at the level of your mouth. With your left hand, moved up from your left nipple, you cradled my tightened balls. I gently held the back of your head, and moved my cock in and out of your mouth. In just minutes, with your caressing of my balls, I shot a load of cum into your mouth, and down your throat. With your tongue, swishing around your mouth, you made sure that all of the rest of the cum was swallowed. Your eyes glistened in appreciation.

The crowd was hushed.

I motioned you to stand, that I might lie down on my back on the bench. Guiding you then with my hands on your hips, I urged you to straddle my face, with one leg raised, its foot resting on the back of the bench, the other leg straight, its foot resting flatly on the ground. I then gently pulled you down, encouraging you to squat right over my face. I wanted to eat your pussy. I wanted to eat your ass. You knew what I wanted. You wanted it, too.

With my tongue in your wet pussy, my nose was pressed up against your butthole—

A gourmand flourish—fresh, lightly green jasmine, combined with sweet, sugared mimosa; a smooth incense evoking an image of a saintly servant of god, pure in her devotion and intentions, bringer of comfort and joy to those in her care. But, then, evolving, a more animalic note began to coax its way forward beside the jasmine, and I was brought to realise that your own desires, your own fantasies, your own yearning, was striving to escape the life that had been given to you. While the sweetness lingered, the incense now felt dirtier, the musk, sexier. The transition was thrillingly palpable. A heroine, while you may never surrender entirely to wantonness, to wildness, you were no longer content to be the silent bride of any Christ.

I started to get hard again. I wanted to continue licking and tonguing your pussy, but your butthole, at that moment, needed me more. With my hands on your hips, I nudged you forward just a bit, so that I could lick and tongue your butthole. With my hands, I spread the cheeks of your ass, opening your butthole even more. I licked you first, then I pressed my tongue deeply into your hole. I could taste your essence. I wanted it. My first words to you that occasion came then, ‘Please, give as you wish me to receive.’ You did. And I accepted, gratefully. I licked you clean. Then I said to you, my second utterance, ‘May I drink?’ Adjusting your hips appropriately, you peed. I needed all your pee to clear my throat. With your body now relieved of its internal burdens, and I so blessed with them, we were ready to fuck.

I crowd was dumbfounded. Not a word could be heard.

I raised myself from the bench, very hard again now, and motioned for you to lean forward over the bench, you hands on the back of the bench, your ass facing me. Lowering to my knees, I licked your butthole again, and fondled your clit and cunt with my fingertips. Both your pussy and your butthole were now very wet. Standing again, I first thrust my cock deeply into your butthole. I could not see your face, but I could feel you smiling. I fucked you and fucked you and fucked you. I had already cum once in your mouth; so I could persevere as long as I needed to. Your butthole was completely relaxed. I loved watching my cock move in and out of you. You pussy, though, after a while, was begging for that cock. I, too, wanted to cum. I wanted to cum in your pussy. I had fed you; now I wanted to seed you, to breed you.

I pulled out of your butthole, and pushed directly into your sopping wet pussy. I was in heaven. You were in heaven. Heaven, but truth attained; hell, but truth denied. I fucked you with reverence, with passion, with admiration, with adoration, with utmost respect for your defiance, your courage, your individuality. I fucked you ’til you began to shudder in profound orgasm. At that moment, I, too, emptied my balls again inside of you. The first time, in your mouth, was the primer; this time, was the flood. I filled you with my hot worshipful cum.

As you then appeared almost weak in the knees following the intensity of your orgasm, I lifted you up, brought you to me, and held you tightly. We kissed. You could taste yourself in my mouth. Wanting more of that flavour, you poked your entire tongue into my mouth, savouring my teeth, my gums, mixing tongues with me. We kissed and kissed and kissed. My cum was dripping in constant streams down your inner thighs. My cock, now yours, that dream, committed.

The crowd had begun to murmur. 

We looked up. We had forgotten about everyone but ourselves, me of you, you of me; we, together. I picked up my clothes, put my arm over your shoulder, and, both of us still naked, we walked towards the guards, towards the crowd. A path was cleared. Blissfully, we walked towards the periphery of the park. At the thought of a life together on the other side of that threshold—mine alone, as I was soon to find—with my expression of joy, you disappeared. All that remained was the absence of you beside me. Even the park behind me was empty.

The angels only leave me when I smile.