In Dreams She Came 2

Chapter 4

I stared in utter disbelief as the woman who had been tormenting me in my dreams now stood before me in the flesh. I could feel my cock growing hard in my pants from her mere presence. I was speechless, staring awkwardly. My wife spoke, breaking the spell.

“Wow, honey,” Jenny said with a giggle, “I know she’s beautiful, but get a grip.”

I snapped out of my frozen state but was still confused as to what was going on. How was this possible?

“Nice to meet you,” I mumbled, then added, “I saw the moving truck outside, so I figured we had new neighbors.”

Up close, there were many things about Mona that were different than the woman in my dreams. The real Mona had beautifully detailed tattoos over much of her exposed skin. The one that covered her midriff depicted an ornately drawn heart, surrounded by crimson roses on a twisty vine. The thorns from the vine penetrated the heart, in places, causing it to drip blood. She was also shorter than I realized, barely over five feet in height. The longer I stared at her, the less she resembled my dream lover, to the point that I soon began to think that maybe I had overreacted.

“Desdemona and her husband Lazarus are in a band, honey,” Jenny chimed in. “Isn’t that cool?”

“A band?” I asked, separating myself from our guest and positioning myself next to my wife. “What kind of band?”

“We play a mix of styles,” Mona explained. “Mostly gothic metal, with a little EDM mixed in to get the bodies moving.”

I was gradually shaking off my initial surprise. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was no way Mona was my dream lover. It was just a coincidence. I tried to put the thought out of my mind completely.

“Anything we’d know?” I asked. “What’s the name of your band?”

“Her Demonic Majesty,” Mona explained. “And I doubt you’ve ever heard our songs unless you’re into our style of music. We’re pretty popular in a very niche sort of way. We’re big in South America and Scandinavia.”

I guess being in a gothic metal band explained Mona’s look. She was dressed in something resembling a cross between a gypsy, a stripper, and a character in a Victorian-era vampire movie.

“Your husband,” I began hesitating at his name.

“Lazarus,” Mona supplied.

“Lazarus?” I asked. “Like in the Bible?”

“Exactly,” she said, smiling sensually. “The one who was dead but rose back to life.”

“Where’s he?” I asked.

“Oh, he’s resting. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow night.” Mona replied.

I must have had a puzzled expression as I asked, “We will?”

Jenny spoke up, “Mona has invited us to a house warming party at their place tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I see,” I replied.

Mona drifted to our back door and gripped the knob. “I better get back to unpacking, but it was so nice to finally meet you. Don’t forget the party tomorrow. I hope you both get to come.”

There was something about the tone of her voice and the way she said that last word that had my cock twitching back to life. I was also puzzled by her use of the word “finally.” Why did she say that? She just moved in.

“Sounds great,” I said. Mona smiled and stepped outside. My gaze followed her as she walked across our patio and out of sight.

“What do you think of our new neighbor?” Jenny asked me after a few silent seconds passed.

“She seems nice,” I said, downplaying my reaction.

Jenny grabbed my boner through my pants. “Based on how hard your cock is, I think she was more than just nice.”

I could feel myself blushing and was about to comment when Jenny slid out of her chair, dropped to her knees, and unzipped my pants.

“It’s ok,” she said as she pulled my cock out and stroked it in front of her mouth, “I thought she was hot as fuck, too.”

She wrapped her lips around the head of my boner and started sucking me off. That’s when I noticed the open bottle of wine on the table and a pair of glasses. I wondered how long Desdemona had been here and was about to ask when Jenny took my cock into her throat, and all thought of sexy neighbors went out the window.

Chapter 5

The intense blowjob led to a three-hour session of sex that started in the kitchen, moved to the family room, then culminated in the master bedroom. Jenny was insatiable, filled with a lust that I have not seen from her in years. Her orgasms were powerful and numerous. Finally, after I blew my third load into her, she collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

Jenny was out cold, but I was wide awake and starving after all that physical effort, so I went downstairs to grab a snack. I made a cheese and fruit plate and sat down at the kitchen table to eat it. We hadn’t cleaned up the wine, so I decided to pour myself a glass. When I picked up the bottle, I noticed the label had the same design on it that I had seen on Mona’s abdomen.

In the center was a plump heart, of deep ruby red, surrounded by emerald green vines and leaves, with dark crimson roses. Up close, I was able to see more details. Extending from the heart were two metallic spikes, one shaped like an arrow and the other a plus sign, which I recognized as the universal symbols for male and female genders. Blood dripped from each.

In an ornate, gothic font above the symbol were the words: “Her Demonic Majesty.” Holy Shit, in addition to having a metal band, they had their own brand of wine. They called this particular wine Blood of the Fallen.

I poured a sample into one of the glasses. The wine was a dark, blood-red color, which I assumed was where the name came from. It was full-bodied and semi-sweet to the palate. It gave me the impression of opulence and was clearly not a cheap, mass-market product.

Curious about our new neighbors, I grabbed our iPad and did a quick search on the band. The first thing I found was a shitload of pictures that depicted them in costume, either in concert or in what I assumed were promotional photos. Many of the images featured naked or scantily clad men, women, and people of ambiguous gender. They depicted a mix of soft-core porn and occult themes, including rituals, vampirism, blood, and bondage.

I pulled up a few video clips of the band in action. They were better than I expected. Mona had an angelic voice and sang the clean parts with an incredible stage presence that sucked you into the experience. The male singer, who I assumed was Lazarus, was tall, extremely muscular, with long black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. He didn’t really sing. It was more of a growl or snarl that bordered on screaming. I couldn’t understand most of what he was saying, but it evoked strong emotions. According to the comments, he sang in a tongue called Enochian, which was purported to be the language of angels and demons, as taught by Edward Kelly to Sir John Dee, physician to Queen Elisabeth.

Most of the concert clips appeared to be shot in a cave-like club. In many of those videos, some of the dancers appeared to pretend to have sex. The more I watched, the more graphic it seemed.

In one song, called Worship Me, Mona sat on an altar, with her legs spread, and forced several of the costumed dancers to kneel and give her oral sex while she sang. It looked incredibly realistic, especially since Mona was completely naked. Her singing shifted between opera-like arias to moans and cries of sexual pleasure. Watching her had me rock hard again.

On Wikipedia, I learned the symbol tattooed on Mona’s midriff and used on their wine bottles was the band’s logo. Apparently, it was derived from a magic sigil that depicted the hermaphrodite, a being possessing both male and female genitalia. That was weird, but a lot of metal bands had an androgynous schtick, so I didn’t think it was anything unusual.

I glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was nearly three in the morning. I’d stayed up all night, watching videos and researching Mona, Lazarus, and Her Demonic Majesty.

I turned off the iPad, plugged it into the charger, and cleaned up what was left of the wine. As I made my way back upstairs, I heard the strange howling cry of an animal. In all the years we have lived in that house, I’d never heard anything like it before. It unnerved me and sent a chill down my spine.

I double-checked the security system from the console in our bedroom, making sure all the doors and windows were closed, and the alarm was active. I don’t know why I felt uneasy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was prowling around our house, something that didn’t like me.

I slid under the covers and turned out the lamp on my nightstand. Jenny wrapped her arms around me, spooning me, and whispered, “You didn’t get enough earlier? You had to wake me up and fuck me one last time. I need some sleep, so give me a break until breakfast, ok?”

What was she talking about? I hadn’t fucked her again; I wasn’t even in the room. She must’ve been having the dream again. I made a mental note to talk to the doctor about that too. Were we possibly having some kind of shared dementia?

“Yeah, ok,” I said as I kissed her hand. I lay there for a long time, unable to sleep, listening to the sound of Jenny’s breathing, the wind in the trees, and the periodic howl of some unknown beast.

Chapter 6

Fortunately, once I did fall asleep, I didn’t have any nocturnal visitor. It was a good thing it was a Saturday because I slept like the dead until nearly eleven when Jenny woke me with a nudge. If it had been a work night, I would have been in deep shit.

“Are you getting up today?” she asked as she continued to shake my shoulder. “Or should I go to our massage appointment by myself?”

Oh yeah, our massage, shit. I had totally forgotten that it was the day for our monthly couples massage. I cracked one eye, cautiously. Jenny was smiling at me, holding a mug of fresh coffee.

“My savior,” I said, sitting up and taking the mug. I sipped the bitter, dark roast and groaned as I imagined the caffeine traveling through my system to do its job.

“I made breakfast. Hurry your ass up, and we might have time for a quickie before we go to get our bodies rubbed,” Jenny said seductively as she sauntered toward the door, hiking up her long t-shirt to show me her naked ass.

That was all the incentive I needed. I threw off the covers and chased after my wife, naked as the day I was born. She giggled playfully and ran down the stairs, stripping off the shirt and throwing it at me. When she reached the marble floor, she slid across it on her sock feet, then disappeared through the butler pantry.

I found her in the kitchen, standing bent over the eat-in counter, feet spread with her ass and pussy on display. She was smiling back at me over her shoulder. “Fuck me first,” she giggled, “we can eat breakfast in the car.”

“Didn’t you get enough last night?”

“No. Did you?”

“I can never get enough of you.”

“Good, then show me. Give me that cock,” Jenny said as she stared at my erect cock.

I moved behind her and gripped my boner in my fist, rubbing the spongy head between her labia. She was already slick from arousal. Her lips spread around my glans, caressing it and coating it with natural lubrication. She groaned as I continued working it in her slit. The tip of my dick brushed her hard little clit, and she jumped excitedly.

My wife was beautiful. I especially loved the way her ass curved when she was bent over. I admired her smooth, unblemished flesh as I guided my cock inside her pussy. Unlike so many women today, Jenny was ink-free, no tramp stamp, not even a tiny, experimental butterfly. An image of Mona’s tattooed naked body, from the videos, appeared in my head. Both women looked sexy, but Jenny was mine, and most importantly, Jenny was here with her pussy aching for my cock.

I pushed forward, watching the head disappear into her hot hole as she wiggled her hips, trying to force more of my dick inside. I was deliberately feeding it to her slowly, making her wait for it.

“Oh, Chris,” she moaned, “don’t tease me. Fuck me!”

“You want it hard?”

“Yes.”

“You want it rough?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I grabbed Jenny by the hips and shoved my cock inside her fully. The combination of her high state of arousal and all the fucking we had done overnight made my cock able to penetrate her easily. She cried out as I bottomed out inside her and began thrusting. She gripped the countertop, head thrashing, her hair tossing back and forth across her naked back, reminding me of some of the erotic dancers in Mona’s videos.

I fucked her harder, and she let out a yelp, then pushed her ass back to meet my pounding thrusts. My cock hammered her pussy over and over, rapidly, as I gave her every bit of my power. Jenny tossed her head back and began to scream as I felt her pussy clamp down on my cock seconds before her vaginal cavity flooded around my shaft with super-heated juices that ran out of her and down my balls.

I’ve only felt Jenny gush a few times during fucking and recognized it immediately. Her powerful orgasm sent me over the edge, and as I slammed inside her, my cock erupted, spewing my seed deep into her. She felt me cumming and bucked her hips wildly, trying to milk my cock. I came hard and satisfyingly, eyes closed tightly.

I saw darkness. It felt heavy, oppressive, closing in all around me. I heard laughter in the distance and recognized the voice. It belonged to the woman from my dreams.

She spoke, her voice echoing softly, “Did you cum hard?”

‘W-what?” I asked into the darkness.

“Did you cum hard?” Jenny asked again. I opened my eyes and saw my wife standing next to me, using a tea towel to wipe her pussy.

“Uh, yeah,” I replied, looking about in confusion.

“I can tell. You filled me up. I’m surprised you had any left after four times last night.”

I only remembered fucking her three times. “I only came three times,” I corrected her.

“No, it was four,” Jenny said emphatically. “Three in my pussy and the last one in my ass.”

I didn’t fuck her in the ass!

“I wish!” I said.

“Whatever, anyway, I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said, then skipped out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts and a tray of ham and cheese croissants. I ate one and put several into a paper bag to take with us.

Chapter 7

Once a month, Jenny and I would go to a local, high-end massage studio and get a couples massage. She always wants a girl to do hers as she gets skeeved out at the idea of a guy rubbing on her. I usually get a male to do mine, because I like a deep tissue massage and have found that only guys are able to dig deep enough into my upper back to get at my knots.

So, I was shocked today when we entered the massage room, and Jenny declared that today Misty was to massage me, and Juan would do her. Jenny was acting entirely out of character. I stared at her, unsure of what to do. She laughed it off and quickly disrobed, then climbed under the covers of the table Juan had indicated. I shrugged, and stripped down, slipping into Misty’s table.

An hour and a half later, we returned home feeling well relaxed in more than a little turned on. I wanted to get frisky, but Jenny wouldn’t have it. “We have to get ready for the party,” she told me with a laugh as she pushed me away.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked as I tried to pull her onto the bed. “The parties not until tonight. We have four hours!”

“I have to get ready. Now, go pour me some wine.”

I shrugged. Jenny was behaving differently. She was more aggressive and demanding than usual, and her attitude at the massage studio was very out-of-character. I thought about the dreams I had been having with the Mona look-alike, and the way Jenny also seemed to be having vivid sexual dreams that were so realistic, she thought we’d had sex when she woke up.

Well, at least that implied I was her dream lover.

But, I began to grow concerned about what was happening. It was subtle, more of a nagging feeling than suspicion. I wanted to just discount it all and ignore it, but I decided that I would find someone to talk to for sure.

For the time being, I would use the free guide to everything… Google. First, I poured Jenny a glass of white wine and carried it up to her, leaving it on the counter in the bathroom. She was in the shower, washing her breasts slowly with a thick lather. She smiled at me through the glass.

“Thank you, honey,” she purred.

I stared at her as my cock started to get hard again. She exuded sexuality.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she said with a giggle, anticipating my thoughts. “We don’t have time.”

I nodded and went back downstairs, flipped open my Chromebook, and punched in a search string:

“Vivid sexual dreams male female nocturnal emission personality changes.”

That brought up a long list of links to studies and reports that made it sound like this kind of thing wasn’t all that uncommon. I flipped open a few and read through them. I began to feel that what was happening wasn’t weird, but something was missing.

I scrolled down a little more in the list, and on page 2, I found an entry that read:

“Nocturnal emissions always came with these dreams. It took some serious rebuking and intense spiritual warfare, but the bondage broke, and the dreams are gone, along with the nocturnal emissions.”

I felt a cold chill move slowly up my spine, and the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. I clicked on the link.

It took me to a page with the title “Demonic Sexual Dreams.” It was a short entry, written by a person who was a spiritual coach of some kind. The subject was a client who described sexual dreams and nocturnal emissions being related to something called a succubus. There was no real explanation, so I searched for “What is a succubus.”

This took me to a Wikipedia page. It describes the concept better than me. Here is the entry on the topic: “A succubus is a fiend in female form, or supernatural entity in folklore (traced back to medieval legend), that appears in dreams and takes the form of a woman in order to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. The male counterpart to the succubus is the incubus. Religious traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or mental state or even death.”

Holy shit.

I read the entire article. My hands shook. According to Ancient Hebrew teachings, Adam’s first wife was not Eve. Lillith, an Angelic being, had seen Adam, found him beautiful, and fell in love with him. Against God’s laws, Lillith seduced Adam and mated with him. Adam loved her and begged God to allow them to marry. God reluctantly agreed.

The archangel Samael resented that Lillith had given herself to Adam, whom Samael despised as a lesser being than the Angels. So, Samael went to Lillith and seduced her. When Adam learned of her betrayal, was broken-hearted. God condemned Lillith to never be able to bear children and nullified her marriage to Adam.

In shame, Lillith left Heaven, with Samael, and became Queen of the Demons. Samael used his power to grant her the thing God had taken from her, to reproduce. But, she could not do it herself, only indirectly. Samael made her able to alter form from female to male and to enter into the dreams of humans.

As a beautiful seductress, she would mate with men, usually in their dreams. She would collect their semen, then take on the shape of an attractive male and mate with a woman, impregnating her with the seed she had previously connected. The offspring would appear normal at first, but over time they would begin to change and demonstrate demonic traits, eventually becoming succubi themselves and serving their dark Queen.

Was this what was happening? Was my dream lover a succubus, who took my seed and then assumed my appearance to mate with Jenny in her dreams? Is that why Jenny thought she had been fucking me?

The cold chill caused me to shiver. Just then, Jenny entered the room and placed a cold hand on my shoulder. “What are you reading?” she asked.

I jumped, startled, and quickly closed the laptop “Nothing, just some research,” I lied.

“Most likely porn,” Jenny chuckled. “Save your sperm for later, I have plans for it.”

I stared open-mouthed. Words would not come out.

“Go take a shower,” Jenny commanded. “I’ll fix us something to eat. I don’t think they’re serving dinner.”

I nodded, then walked upstairs. My mind was in turmoil. Was any of this possible? Was I going insane? There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. I was not a religious person and didn’t buy into superstitious mumbo-jumbo.

I thought back to the scientific articles I had read, which said that wet dreams were healthy and were produced by our subconscious minds in response to some external stimulus or forgotten memories. That had to be right. Wet dreams were normal.

People likely invented the concept of succubi and incubi to assuage their guilty feelings about having sexual thoughts. The devil made me do it.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

I turned on the shower and stripped down. I put any thought of demons and succubi out of my head as I climbed in and let the hot water scald my skin. The steam coated the glass walls of the shower. As it did, gradually, a shape appeared, as if etched in the glass. Apparently, Jenny had drawn it with her finger, and the oil from her skin was still on the glass, causing the steam to run off where she had marked.

Even though I was in steaming hot water, I felt the cold chill again, and my hairs stood back up. Jenny had drawn, in precise detail, Desdemona’s tattoo.

THE END OF EPISODE 2