Chapter 2 - Noelle
It’s been just over a month since my Valentine’s Day dream with Nick and I can’t get him out of my head.
Do people have recurring dreams like this?
Each one is immersive and all my senses are alive.
The colors are vivid and every sensation is heightened.
It never has the haziness that other dreams do.
I remember every detail when I snap awake.
If I didn’t know any better I would think it was real, but magical lands don’t exist. They just don’t. So either I’m crazy or…I don’t know.
Wetness hits my panties as I think about Valentine’s Day and how Nick pushed me down against the railing of the gazebo and fucked my ass.
Normally I only do anal on special occasions, but in a make-believe world, who cares?
Plus it was a holiday so that counts as special.
I love everything Nick does to me, so he can do whatever he wants when we’re together.
But I’m presuming it will happen and there’s no guarantee of that.
Just because it happened on the last two major holidays doesn’t mean I can expect it today on St. Patrick’s Day.
I grimace down at my bright green T-shirt covered in flour.
If I do get to see him today, I need to get home and change first. I’m the Assistant Pastry Chef in a large pastry kitchen that makes desserts and specialty cakes for a variety of local businesses, and service the general public from an attached cafe.
Normally I’m handling inventory, management duties, and putting finishing touches on the desserts, but today one of the pastry chefs called in sick, so I was helping with the cake orders.
My job is hectic and can be stressful, but it’s my passion so I take the bad with the good.
One unpleasant part is that my shift starts early, and I’m not a morning person.
I’ve learned to deal with it by drinking two cups of coffee.
Going home before the traffic gets bad is a perk, but I still wish I could sleep in a few more hours.
Being up at dawn today might come in handy.
The two times the portal opened to take me to Nick, it was nighttime.
As long as that happens again, I should get home in plenty of time to freshen up.
I snort at myself for assuming, again, that I’m seeing Nick tonight.
I’m going to end up disappointed if I keep thinking this way.
Deep down I know I’ll be devastated if it doesn’t happen.
I might be obsessed with him since I turned down two date offers in the last month in lieu of what?
A dream guy? Shit, maybe I should go out tonight with friends instead of waiting around for a magical being to whisk me away.
I’m spacy for the rest of my work shift and have to correct several mistakes.
I’m lucky I didn’t do something I couldn’t fix.
All I can think about is being on all fours in a meadow of shamrocks while Nick’s meaty cock presses inside me.
My pussy is buzzing and my panties are so wet they’re a lost cause.
Thank God I’m wearing jeans and not leggings or yoga pants. This workday cannot end soon enough.
By the time my shift is over, I need a shower badly and I’m still not sure if I plan on getting dressed up in something sexy just to sit at home.
The other times it happened, I was either out of my house, or planning on going out.
What if it only works because I had other plans?
Fuck, I better go to that bar with my friends.
When I get home, I hit the shower and do a good scrub and shave.
Nick seemed to appreciate my Brazilian wax last time, so I’ve been maintaining it.
I try to not think about how I’m grooming my kitty for a man I’ve never actually met.
This really can’t be healthy, but I’m doing it anyway.
A tiny part of my brain whispers, “What if this is real?” and I push it to the side.
No fucking way this is real. I didn’t meet some weird-ass cherub and Santa’s elves.
Losing my panties every time can’t even convince me.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with them, but I’m sure I’ll find out someday.
I want Nick drooling over me, so I spend extra time on my makeup and slip on a pair of black and gold lace panties I bought last week.
I sigh at myself as I pull my new dress out of the closet.
I purchased it the same day as the panties, knowing I was buying both with the hopes it would be Nick removing them.
The dress is a short, green, sparkly form-fitting number—something that can easily be pushed up or removed quickly.
I opt to not wear a bra because… why not?
My breasts are perky and have a nice shape, so if I go out with friends I’ll be sexy and comfortable, and if I end up with Nick, I’ll just be taking it off anyway.
I pull my long brown hair into a ponytail, and slip on a pair of strappy brown high heels. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
Since it’s after five o’clock, I text my friend, Sarah, that I’ll meet her at the bar after all.
She tells me everyone is just arriving and to get my ass down there.
I grab my tiny clutch purse and loop the strap over my wrist, since I’m not wearing a bra I could use as a hidden wallet.
I giggle at the thought and wonder if I should have worn one after all.
After one last glance around my apartment to make sure I didn’t forget anything, I’m about to walk out the door, but pause.
Wait… I rush back to my bedroom and grab a second pair of lace panties that are thin enough to fold into quarters and still lay flat.
What if I hook up with Nick and end up back at the bar with no panties on?
An extra pair would be good. I slide them into my purse and take a deep breath.
Feeling satisfied that I’m completely ready, I head out the door to walk the two blocks to meet up with Sarah.
The bar is already noisy and crowded, but I spot Sarah at a table, surrounded by people she knows. I’m really only friends with Sarah and the rest are her friends, but I’ve met a few of them before and they were fun to hang with. Sarah sees me and waves me over.
“Sit down, Bitch. We saved you a spot.”
Sarah only affectionately calls me Bitch after she’s had a few drinks, so that tells me she’s been here a while.
I take the chair next to her and pour myself a glass of beer from the pitcher on the table, scrunching my face at the first bitter sip.
I prefer hard cider and I decide I’ll order my own drink if I’m still here in thirty minutes.
Sarah leans over and attempts to whisper in my ear but since already half drunk, she’s loud enough that I cringe. “I ordered some barbecue wings for everyone. They should be here soon.”
I glance down at my dress and wonder if I should forgo messy wings.
I don’t want to meet up with Nick all covered in sauce.
Oh shit, I should probably warn Sarah I might disappear.
I don’t know if time passes when I meet up with Nick or what happens to my body when I’m mentally gone.
Oh, fuck. Going out was probably a horrible idea.
“Uh, Sarah?”
She looks at me with glassy eyes. “Yeah?”
“I have a date later and I’m exhausted, so if I head out without saying goodbye, don’t worry about me… or if I, you know, fall asleep in my chair it’s only because I’m exhausted. OK?”
Sarah looks at me like I’m nuts, and marveled, “You could fall asleep in HERE?” She gestures broadly with an arm at the boisterous crowd, almost smacking me in the face in her zeal.
I dodge her flailing limb and my eyes skitter away from hers. “Uh, you never know. It’s been a rough couple of nights. Doctor thinks I might have narcolepsy.”
Jesus Christ, I sound like an idiot. If this happens again with Nick, next holiday I’m staying home. Sarah looks worried for a second, but then her face brightens.
“OK, Bitch. But we’re going to have to catch up later this week. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
Grinning at her, I agree to fill her in on all the details later.
I have no clue how I plan on telling her I’m dating some guy but only when I fall asleep on holidays, but maybe I’ll make up a boyfriend named Nick who lives in the UK.
Actually, that’s fucking brilliant. I can pretend whatever I want about him and tell her he visits me on holidays and that’s why I can’t go out with her.
Having that all settled, I drink some beer and avoid the wings when they get to the table. Instead, I nibble on some potato wedges so I’m not starving like last time with Nick, all while berating myself for how I keep expecting to see him.
Everyone at the table is in a jolly mood except me, and since they’re all drinking they don’t notice I’m not sloshed like they are. Every few minutes I peek at the clock on the wall. Why hasn’t someone—or something—come for me yet?
After a couple of hours, my mouth is dry and my throat feels constricted. I bite my lip and force my hands in my lap so I don’t twist them anxiously.
Sarah glances at me and slurs, “You doing OK?”
Shit, I better just leave. This is only going to get worse the longer I’m here.
“Yeah. I actually need to go meet up with my date.” I stand up and look around the table. “You guys have a fun time.”
Several people chorus goodbye to me, and a couple raise their glasses of beer in farewell. I avoided peeing for the last two hours, but now I’m not sure I can make it home so I hit the bathroom on my way out.
The room isn’t as busy as I expected, and I take one of the three stalls. I’m pleased with how easily my dress slides up, and praise myself for the purchase. Now I just need Nick to test it out, right before he fucks me roughly.
While I’m sitting on the toilet with my panties at my ankles, the gold lace catches the light and I sigh. I really hope I didn’t get dressed up for nothing. I’m about to grab some toilet paper when a big green cap slides under the door, along with a round orange-bearded face.
“What the fuck!” I yell at the guy.
Who in the hell peeks on a woman in a bathroom stall? He grins at me, not the least bit fazed. “Oh sorry, but I had to check if it was you this time.”
Wait, he’s done this to other women tonight? I open my mouth to question him, but he distracts me.
“Hurry it up. Nick is waiting.” His voice is unpleasantly high-pitched, but nothing can stop the thrill that runs through me when he says Nick’s name.
Oooh, yes! The pervert doesn’t look as if he intends to remove his head from my stall and I’m about to tell him to scram, but decide, “Fuck it,” and grab the toilet paper. When I’m done and pull up my panties, he’s got a huge grin on his face.
I refuse to let some twisted imaginary man ruin my night, but I snap at him, “I’m done, let’s go.”
When he slides out from under the stall, I open the door and head to the sink.
As I’m washing my hands, I study him in the mirror.
He looks exactly like the media portrays leprechauns, which is suspicious and makes me think this is likely a dream.
But at this moment, I really don’t care if I’m hallucinating.
Nick is waiting for me, and my pussy needs a good pounding. It’s been a long month.
I grab a few paper towels to dry my hands, and as I turn to use the garbage can, a portal with wooden louvered saloon doors appears in the wall across from me. I don’t wait for the weirdo and push the doors open.