Four writers for the price of one blog
This was a real dream I had, some time ago, that I actually wrote down some details because, well, you’ll see. It’s completely gone from memory now. So I treated the scribbles like notes for a flash-fic. It’s been a long time, so we’ll see how it goes.
I wake up, like always, in the Dorm. I mean we call it a dormitory, but it’s really a giant gymnasium-like room filled with with bunk beds in neat rows. Still, it’s the Freshman Dorm, and there’s nothing remarkable about it. I once did the math, and figured it sleeps about a thousand. But really, three thousand. Classes at the Uni happen 24/7, so students are always going to sleep and getting up. As on a submarine, the beds are hot-bunked. One kid gets up, the next one takes his or her place and goes to sleep. The Dorm is, unremarkably, co-ed.
I’m getting up to go to class; strip off the undergarments I slept in and slot them, swipe my ID next to the bed for a set of clothes that match my specs and style profile, and change; same as everyone else in my chron. I’m tying my shoes when a girl walking down the row stops at the bed and eyes me a question, and I nod, as I’m standing up. She’s naked, which is unremarkable – a lot of us sleep that way if we shower before – and climbs into the bed. I watch her, could be considered rude, but I can’t seem to help it. There’s something… She sees at me watching, and gives me a second look, up and down as well. There’s static in my head; a rush of blood; a closing of a circuit. My gaze scans up her body to meet her eyes, and I remember the words “May I” two heartbeats after I’ve spoken them. She nods, and I kneel by the bedside, lowering my head as she parts her legs. At the first taste, I know it’s you. The shock of recognition thrills, but I don’t understand it, because I still don’t *see*; one of those weird dream things. But suddenly I’m compelled, andI devour. Holding her thighs and lapping, sucking, slurping like a starving man while the chron-change in the Dorm goes on around us completely oblivious. People walk by, settle to sleep, exit for class, and she arches and comes, shuddering and bucking, flooding my face, and I don’t stop until she collapses back, spent and exhausted.
I let go and stand up. She smiles at me sleepy, satisfied, like she’s about to go under, and seeing her that way makes me smile all the way through. I dry my face on my sleeve, and reach for my gear bag to head for class. But as I turn to go, she grabs my hand. I turn back, and now, suddenly, finally, it’s you. It’s been you all along. You pull me back. You reach for my belt, and I can’t get it off fast enough, and I’m kissing you as I climb onto the bed and lower myself between your legs. I’m going to be late for class. I’m going to miss all my classes class. I don’t care. “May I?”