Chapter 12
BRENT
Oh fuck. This is the best dream ever. In my mind, Janie closes her eyes as she licks the head of my cock, swollen and purple. She’s on her knees naked, her huge ass sticking out towards the mirror of my wardrobe, where in the reflection, I can see her pussy glisten wet for me between her legs. She’s twirling her tongue around my throbbing cock, then gently folds her full, pouting mouth around it and slides it down her throat to the hilt. I moan, fucking into the movement, reaching for her curls to hold her head in place.
She lets me fuck her pretty little mouth as she lifts her huge, swaying tits up with both her hands, pushing them up towards my balls and jiggling them as she intensifies the suction in her mouth. This makes me come hard, deep down her throat, as she keeps her beautiful hazel eyes open, blinking innocently, watching me like an obedient puppy as I pump my load down her throat. She doesn’t even need to swallow, that’s how far down her throat my cock is, but there’s no protest from her. Her eyes are full of lust and approval.
Laying on my back in bed, I open my eyes and look down at my cock, so hard and tightly drawn up against my six pack that it reaches until well past my belly-button. A stream of cum reaches up almost to my pecs - I’ve had another dream about Janie. Like a fucking pubescent kid. Annoyed, I grab a tissue from the bedside table and clean myself up, then realize I want a shower, instead. And seeing that it’s almost 6 a.m. anyways, I decide to just get up for the day.
As I let the water course down my muscles, I think back to the hot dream of Janie. It’s not just a fantasy - that had actually happened a few days ago. She came over after we’d gone for a drive and had another one of our soulful talks; as usual, she made me feel so calm and peaceful. We’d kissed and come back here, where I’d been reluctant to fuck her because I’m always so scared of hurting her. I’m always so aware of how easily I can crush her soft, feminine body with these muscles. Espeically this weird PTSD stuff, I still don’t trust the strength of my own body when I am taken by the lust that Janie instills in me.
So I lay her down on the bed and started licking her clit softly, then harder, dipping my tongue into her creaming cunt until she screamed in pleasure. The thought of her soft, juicy pussy in my mouth makes me hard again, and I watch my cock stand on end as the soap drips off my body. This lust for Janie, this need to be with her, is unrelenting and frankly, exhausting. I think of how she’d gratefully gotten on her hands and knees after I made her come with my mouth, her tits swaying with the movement, as she’d folded her lips around my cock.
My left hand steadies against the tiles of the shower wall as I start to jack off with my right, hoping the sound of the shower gushing down on my body will muffle any sounds of my orgasm. Beating at my steel-hard rod, I think of her soft tits, her huge ass, her big brown eyes that looked up at me as I came down her throat. I hold my cock steady as it pulses in my fist, cum exploding out the tip for the second time before sunrise. I watch it disappear down the drain and sighing, continue with my shower. I hope I can get through the rest of the morning without too many more distractions.
After I fucked her at my place, I was determined not to see her again. Because being with Janie opens me up completely, and it freaks me out. I’m a grown man for crying out loud, and I’d had one or two nervous breakdowns in her presence. It fucking terrified me.
So yeah, I went out with Amy a couple days ago. It was okay. She’s pretty, but detached and uninspiring. It was kind of like going out with a cardboard doll that smiles and talks back, but whom you know isn’t real. So I came back bored more than anything, and still thinking about Janie.
Because I dream about my girl non-stop. Dreams where we fucked so meaningfully that I’d awaken feeling both sick to my stomach and with a boner so painfully hard I’d jack myself off like a horny teenage boy. And to my horror, I’d then feel compelled to text Janie and set up a date with her. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d sworn to stay away from the brunette for her own good as well as mine, and yet here I was, doing the exact opposite of what I’d planned.
But it just kept happening over and over again. I’d dream about Janie, and then wake-up ravenous for her. So I’d schedule a date, and every time I’d resolve not to be such an open book. To keep my heart under wraps. But every time I failed: something about her made the avalanche of emotions start. And then we’d fuck, her large, round thighs tight around my waist, her giant tits swaying against my torso, her lips lovingly on mine, always coming together. It was earth-shatteringly, soul-destroyingly, terrifyingly hot, earnest and real. And every time I’d be left feeling naked, ashamed, terrified. And then the cycle would start up again. I’d ignore her for a few days, go on a date with Amy, and “pretend” I was normal. But inevitably, I’d miss Janie again and we’d go another date ending in sex.
So it’s been going on like this for six months now. I tell Cole about it on the phone, but he hasn’t been worried because I haven’t had more PTSD episodes. It’s because of Janie. I know it in my heart. But how can I do this to her? She deserves someone a thousand times better than me.
My phone vibrates and my eyes go wide. I expect it to be Cole because we're due for a chat. But it’s not - it’s a text from Janie. This is the first time she’s contacting me. It’s not how we’ve been doing things. I hesitate a moment, then pick up my cell to read the text.