by Jay Manus

 

I don’t know what’s going on.  Am I dreaming, or what?  But don’t get me wrong… I’m not complaining.

 

It started this morning.  Monday morning, a work day.  I had been out late Sunday night at a party with friends, and crashed on my pillow.  Only three hours later my alarm rang.  I groggily turned it off, and wished today was Sunday again.  Then I dropped back off to sleep.

 

Another few hours passed, during which I experienced a wonderful dream.  I dreamt that there was a girl in bed with me.  A gorgeous girl, 21 years old, blonde, and otherwise quite slim except for a pair of very large, firm breasts.  And in my dream, my body had changed to that of a tall, handsome man in his early thirties, and my cock had hardened to something over eight inches long.  It was an extremely erotic dream.

 

When I finally did awaken again I almost panicked because it was so late.  But I halted suddenly when I realized that a few things had changed.  First of all, the girl from my dream was still there in my bed.  Second, my body was still the tall, handsome one from my dream.  And finally, I knew with conviction, today really was Sunday again.

 

How was this possible?  Had I entered another man’s body?  Become another man?  Who was this angel in my bed?  Looking around the room, I knew it was my own room.  That hadn’t changed.  This was still the one-bedroom apartment in Sunnyvale where I had lived for a year and a half now.  The mostly-bare walls, the institutional dark-brown half-shag carpet, the dust-bunnies in the corners, the cheap bookshelf full of science fiction books, the unadorned stereo and speakers sitting on the floor in the corner – these all confirmed the fact that I was still James Newman, recently graduated software engineer.

 

But the woman in my bed didn’t look like anyone James Newman would have had the nerve to ask out, let alone bring home for the night.  She was incredible, the absolute image of sexual perfection.  She was lying on her side, uncovered and completely naked, breathing quietly in her sleep.  Her breasts were full and large, nipples pointing straight out, skin as softly sensual as any imaginable.  Her legs were long and smooth, and her bottom was taut and shapely.  She was a dream.  My dream, in fact.

 

I was tempted to reach out and touch her, but stopped because I didn’t even know who she was, or how she had gotten there.  Then the other strange aspects of the situation returned to mind.  How the hell did today get to be Sunday again?  I climbed out of bed and headed for my computer in the living room.  It was on, as always, and yes, it clearly agreed that today was Sunday.  I glanced at the coffee table, and was not surprised to find that the Sunday paper, which I thought I had left there the day before, was gone.  I really wished I knew what was going on.

 

Then suddenly, I did.  Well, at least I knew what was going on, but not why.  I understood at that point, with perfect assurance, that I had a power that I hadn’t had before.  I could make anything true.  I had only to imagine or wish for a thing, and it was so.  I remembered having wished it was Sunday, and sure enough, it was.  I dreamed about a beautiful girl in my bed, and sure enough, it was so.  I dreamed about having a body which was fitting for that girl, and sure enough, I did.

 

The girl.  I was thinking about the girl again.  I walked back into the bedroom and watched her sleeping for a minute.  Then I wished she would wake up.  Immediately, her eyelids fluttered and opened, and her gaze settled right on my naked cock.  Amazed that she had reacted to my thought, it took me a minute to realize where she was looking.  My cock however had wasted no time in expanding to its full 8-1/2” erection.  The girl’s eyes widened to enormous proportions as she watched it grow.  Drawn irresistibly to it, this gorgeous apparition climbed off the bed and settled on her knees in front of me, her face at cock level.  She reached out and touched my cock, my balls, my inner thighs, my pubic hair, carefully at first, but then with more and more interest.  She closed one hand, then both hands around my hard shaft and began to rub it.  As she got more and more into what she was doing, I could see her nipples becoming very hard and very erect.  Finally the girl began to kiss the end of my cock.  She kissed the tip, the sides, the top, the underside.  She started licking, the tip, the sides, the top, the underside.  Then finally she put my cock into her mouth and began to suck.

 

The girl pushed and pulled her gorgeous face, bringing more and more of my cock into the warmth of her mouth, her heavy boobs bouncing and jiggling with each thrust.  Finally the tip of my cock reached her throat; she couldn’t take more than about 4 inches.  I found myself wishing she could take more, and suddenly she did.  I don’t know where the extra length went, but I wasn’t thinking about that anyway.  She pulled my entire shaft into her mouth, all the way to my balls, which bounced against her chin as she thrust.

 

She began thrusting my cock into her mouth harder and faster, ever increasing my arousal. Finally, after a good 10 minutes of unabated sucking, my prick got super hard, and I shot my load again and again, right down her throat.  It was quite simply the most exciting and intense release I had ever experienced!  Though I was done for the moment, the girl kept thrusting for a while, licking up the excess juices in the process, until I stepped back, panting, and set down heavily on the bedroom chair, eyes closed, willing the orgasm to continue (which it did, until I let it recede).

 

Then I opened my eyes.  The girl was still there, sitting back now on her knees, still stark naked and beautiful, but now she was looking for the first time at my eyes.  Her expression was blank, or perhaps a little on the curious side.  My mind was filled with questions, but only one thing came out: “Wow!  That was incredible!”.

 

She brightened.  It was as if the sun were shining into the room.

 

I needed to know who this girl was, and whether I had somehow brought her home last night, but I was a little nervous about asking something foolish.  “Um, I guess I must have been a little drunk last night or something, but, well, did I bring you home from the party?”

 

The girl looked puzzled.  She shook her head slowly.  “No.”

 

“Well, who are you?”

 

“I don’t know.  You haven’t given me a name yet.”

 

“Oh.”  I could see where this was leading.  “Where did you come from?”

 

“You made me.  In you dream.”  Bingo.

 

The implications of that were mind-boggling.  If I could make her just by dreaming her, what if I had dreamed something else, something ugly?  Or some disaster?  Fortunately, at least this time, I had only dreamed the most gorgeous, sexy, erotic woman in the world into existence.

 

Suddenly I became very interested in seeing what else I could do.  Looking out the window at a tree which had always cast too much shadow into my bedroom, I imagined that it was gone.  Instantly the sunlight streamed in.

 

Looking further, there was a brand new red Porche parked on the other side of the street which my window overlooked.  I imagined the old Monty Python 16-ton concrete block falling out of the sky.  There it was!  It even had the inscription “16 tons” on it, and it had just flattened somebody’s new Porche.  Then I imagined the scene as it had been a few minutes earlier, and suddenly the weight was gone and the car was again unscratched.

 

I turned to the girl, who was watching all this with interest, and said, “Let’s go out.  First we need some clothes.”  I looked down at myself and created a pair of briefs, socks, kacky shorts, and a gray T-shirt.  Then I had my comfortable sneakers appear on my feet.  Looking at the girl, I considered for a minute, thinking about images of sexy women that had always appealed to me.  I conjured several images in a row, each outfit appearing on her in turn, and finally settled on a pair of pink running shorts and a red short-shirt, which left her taut, tan midriff exposed.  I hadn’t given her a bra, and her large breasts were quite obvious through the thin shirt material.  Just for the hell of it I made the shirt a little tighter, making her breasts that much more obvious.  God, she looked beautiful.

 

The girl looked down and smiled approvingly.  Then she looked at me and asked, “What are you going to call me?”

 

A name, yes, you need a name, I thought.  She reminded me of someone I had known long ago, someone I had had a crush on, which I had been too young to do anything about.  “Jane,” I said with certainty.  “Your name is Jane.”

 

Jane nodded.  “Ok, Jim, let’s go.”  She headed for the door.