Midnight Dream Lover – by Shana Gray
MIDNIGHT DREAM LOVER
BY SHANA GRAY
Enjoy this spoof and parody that just might make you laugh out loud. It’s not your everyday read.
One
Chyna nursed her drink. It was her third Jackie-boy and so far he wasn’t doing his job. Why did he have to be such a bastard and keep her hanging? Keep her lingering on the edge of oblivion. On the edge of her seat. On the edge of arousal with no relief in sight.
Traveling alone had its benefits and drawbacks.
Watching all the lovers was frustrating.
People holding hands everywhere, stealing little kisses on the tour bus and she’d even seen a couple become the…
what? Can’t be called the mile-high club in the coach bus bathroom, ewww , but anyway, they’d not been too quiet.
It had been a fuck of a week schlepping around the Emerald Isle on a bus visiting old libraries.
She loved the libraries and was blown away by the ancient books, the architecture, ambience, and the essence of history, but she needed an escape.
Somewhere to lose herself, preferably in the arms of a hunky, hot, muscular, hung, strong lover.
Irish to boot would be nice, too. But she didn’t have any one of the above.
It had been awhile since she’d let a man in her bed and it was starting to wear her down.
She glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall behind the rows of neatly stacked booze bottles.
The dark Irish pub reflected back at her, cozy, warm, with peat fires burning in the ancient fireplaces at either end of the room.
It really wasn’t necessary to have a fire going, but she supposed it was all about the ambience.
It made the room hot, cloying, and raised her body temperature beyond bearable. And, horny to boot, she was boiling in her own juices. No amount of Jack or Irish whiskey would cool this chick down.
The chairs were full, too, locals and tourists clogging the old pub.
The Dirty Pussy. When Chyna arrived on this stop of her European tour, how could she not beeline to it and have a drink in a pub with such a rocking name?
She’d guffawed out loud when she saw it and chuckled now.
Who in the hell came up with these pub names anyway?
She lifted the glass to her lips. It was heavy and she looked at it.
Just a simple clear glass full of yummy amber liquid, yet it felt like it weighed a ton.
All her movements suddenly slowed as if she was underwater, like when she was in a dream.
No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get the cup to her lips.
Panting for a sip, she moved her lips like a camel trying to suck on the glass, she stuck her tongue into it, hoping for a fiery kiss of liquid. It was no use.
“Damn and shit.” What the hell was going on?
Chyna blinked and tried to focus her suddenly fuzzy vision.
Was she having a stroke? Jack finally doing his thing?
She wobbled on the bar stool a little bit and gripped the edge of the scarred wooden surface as her world seemed to tilt.
She needed to splash some water on her face.
Chyna slid off the stool. Down, down, down.
It seemed like falling into a chasm and when her feet finally hit the floor she stood for a second with her arms outstretched, trying to balance.
Her legs wouldn’t work and she looked down, totally expecting to see she was up to her knees in mud.
Forcing her legs to move, Chyna took tortuous steps.
Oh man. She should have known better than to drink alone.
Dragging her feet, she made her way across the crowded floor in the direction of the loo.
Gah! Why did it feel as if she was under water?
That’s what happened to her when in dreams and she wasn’t dreaming, was she?
She hadn’t had that much to drink and yet she could barely function.
Maybe if she ran, which didn’t make the least bit of sense to her, but she tried anyway, hoping it would shake the lethargy.
The door to the loo grew smaller and looked farther away. WTF…?
Then a bright light to her left made her pause mid-run and she felt herself stumble.
Squinting against the glare, Chyna blinked and tried to focus on the lit doorway, her feet scrambling under her like a dog trying to run on a linoleum floor.
Her body fell and time slowed down and it was taking forever to hit the floor. Which she didn’t.
The slow-mo action heightened the light before her, the image of the restroom door gone and replaced by the searing brightness, as if a thousand fiery suns scorched her brain.
She waited for the old flagstone floor to crash up at her and grimaced, anticipating the pain.
But it didn’t come and she couldn’t figure out why.
Her gaze was fixed on the door and she nearly swallowed her tongue when a figure stepped between her and the light.
Such a magnificent figure. Broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, his hands were propped on his hips and the silhouette of his thick, muscled arms made her gasp.
It was a man! A man worthy of having her fall at his feet.
His face in shadow, all she could make out was the close-cropped hair, the powerful neck and a body she wanted to hang herself on.
The sweet ache of lust scurried through her and her pussy dripped.
Chyna’s nipples hardened and she felt as though her clothes fell away when the glitter of his blue eyes from his shadowed face met hers.
Never had such an instant attraction for a man struck her with such force.
On the heels of that notion was the feeling like she was suddenly naked.
She shook her head and tried to refocus as it dawned on her that she was falling again, and this time she was careening into this mountain of a man.
Come to me, baby. If I’m gonna fall, it better be into your strong, waiting arms.
Chyna held her breath and let her body go.
She didn’t look away from him. He strode toward her.
Purposeful. Swift and sure. She blinked again, trying to clear her eyes, desperate to see his face, but she couldn’t bring him into focus.
Shit. He was shadowed by the light behind and all she could see was the steel blue of his glittery gaze and the strong square line of his jaw.
Chyna held her arms out, her fingers wiggling and reaching for him, impatient. She was panting and anticipating his arms around her. She fell, slowly, almost as though she were flying. He reached for her, his hands only inches away from taking hers. Chyna was confident he would catch her.
A sharp ringing reached her ears. It took a second before she realized it was her cell phone.
Shit and drat! Digging in her pocket while she still sailed through the air, she pulled it out and looked at the number.
It looked familiar and she pressed the button to answer, hitting the wrong one.
The phone rang incessantly at her. No matter whichbutton she pressed, it was the wrong one.
Frustrated, she was about to toss it aside when strong fingers closed over hers and yanked the phone away.
His other hand snaked around her waist and she was caught against the wide, strong chest of this wonderful, mysterious hung… err …hunk.
“You won’t be needing that, my lovely.” His thick Irish brogue slipped around her like hot honey.
“W-won’t I?” She glanced up as she dangled in his arms. He held her with ease. Big. Broad. Strong. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, show me why I won’t need it.”
He yanked her in tight, his mouth fell on hers and his stiff shaft pressed to her belly. Holy shit, she’d never felt such a big cock before. Fire swept through her in a flash. She wanted—needed—this strange man with an urgency Chyna couldn’t explain.
“Chyna! Can you hear me?” A faint, high-pitched voice called to her from under the table where he’d tossed her phone. Leave me alone, voice, whoever you are. I’m busy with Mr. Stud.
He opened his mouth over hers, his tongue diving deep and tangling with hers until she whimpered, totally forgetting the voice calling her from the cell.
It was as if he sucked her right inside him and she very willingly let him.
Oh boy, could he kiss. For the first time in her life she was kissed with such perfection she nearly orgasmed right then and there.
What would this powerhouse be like in the sack?
Her pussy quivered and ached to be filled by what she was sure would be a massive, thick, and expertly wielded cock. His hand slid down her back to her ass, cupping and squeezing until she panted, unable to catch her breath. This was too perfect to be real.
She had to get this Irish stud to bed. And pronto. But did she have a bed? Chyna couldn’t remember if she did. Why was everything so confusing right now?
“Chyna, I know you can hear me,” the voice grew louder, “don’t you dare ignore me, young lady.
” The shrill voice boomed around her and she opened her eyes in the middle of the kiss and glanced under the table.
The glow from the screen of her phone showed a woman’s image.
Ma, what the hell? This had to be some kind of weird dream.
He didn’t miss a beat and deepened the kiss, making her groan with delight. Her eyelids fluttered closed, only to flash open when the voice under the table carried on.
“Chyna, if you’re going to sleep with that man, then you better have him wrap his package.
You have no idea where he’s dipped his wick and you don’t want to catch anything.
Oh and whatever you do, don’t think he’s the marrying kind.
He just wants to get in your pants.” Holy shit, Ma.
“You know what they say, why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?”