The Dreamer by dolphininthesky
For the rest of my stories, click here /~dolphininthesky/

Part 1 - Why Am I Inside Your Head?

He was walking along the corridors of a school, both sides lined with lockers. His pleated, grey skirt silkily caressed his slim, shapely legs.

Wait...what skirt??

I am Amanda Watson and I'm going to be late for class if I don't hurry.
Mandy tightened her grip on the books, hugging them to her breasts. They were pert little things, like two young bunnies pressing against the white shirt that completed her uniform. The click, click sound of her black school shoes echoed through the hall as she quickened her pace. Knee-length socks hugged her calfs. She was fourteen. And a-half - almost fifteen! Barely reaching five feet, her pretty face with a very light dusting of freckles over her nose - you can't see them if you don't look closely - was framed by silky blond hair that she wore in a pony tail. That pony tail bobbed up and down now as she hurried to class. Her pleated school skirt was really getting short due to a growth spurt this year. She really should get new ones before she gets called up by the teachers for inappropriate skirt length, she thought to herself.

No. No. I am David Turner. I'm 24. Definitely male. I'm a junior intern at West, West and Eastman Solicitors and Legal Advocates, the most boring job in the world.

It made sense then. It was just a dream. The skirt? Well, these things happen in dreams. Does that make me a closet crossdresser then? David sighed inwardly. Another topic for my next therapy session.

Mandy pushed the classroom door open and entered, taking her usual seat at the front row between Becky and Ling, her two best friends. She returned their smiles and started to take out her books for the first class of the day - Geography. Mr. Whitman entered the classroom in a hurry - he was slightly late, as usual. He was rather untidy and disorganized, but he was quite cute, she thought, even though he was at least 10 years older than she was - which made him ancient, in the mind of highschoolers. He had dreamy blue eyes, unruly brown hair and boyish looks with a roguish smile that made butterflies flutter in her tummy.

"Amanda? Are you paying attention?"

She was jolted out of her daydreams when she realised Mr. Whitman was directing a question at her. Her face flushed as she realised she didn't know what his question was.

"Sorry, Mr. Whitman. Could you repeat that again?"

"Um.. ah... " he hesitated, "I was asking if anyone remembers the capital of Australia." His face was flushed. She felt a moment of confusion. Why was Mr. Whitman embarrassed when she was the one who should be? His eyes flickered downwards and then quickly averted to the textbook in his hand.

"That would be ... umm.." she started to answer when she realised what Mr. Whitman had been looking at. She had been crossing her legs and her short, pleated skirt must have slid up quite a bit. A cool, light breeze brushing the thin cotton panties cupping her crotch made her realise that it had slid even further up than she thought. She blushed furiously and was about to hastily uncross her legs and adjust her skirt when a deliciously wicked thought occurred to her.

Its just a dream... why not let him enjoy the view?

That's right. She knew somehow that she was dreaming. It seemed more real than most dreams. But she knew it was one - it still had that dreamlike quality common to all dreams.

".. Sydney. Did I get that right, Mr Whitman?" she continued. As Mr. Whitman looked up to reply, Mandy shifted her bum a little. She felt her skirt slide further. Her whole crotch must be exposed, she thought guiltily, as she felt Mr. Whitman's eyes burning holes in her panties. She was blushing from her neck up and... and she was gushing from the waist down. She felt her panties begin to stick to her moistening lips. She imagined a faint stain appearing and spreading on the virginal whiteness of her cotton panties even as Mr. Whitman gazed at them.

Mr. Whitman's eyes lingered over her lily-white thighs - so smooth and creamy - before sampling the sight of the panties that tightly embraced her dainty pubic mons. He could make out the faint outline of the topography of that region; the contours of that gentle valley with its little hidden cave of pleasures and that bubbling stream that trickles forth from therein. He was a Geography teacher after all. He really, really wanted to become well acquainted - intimately acquainted - with her geography.

"Um.. right. That is correct." He swallowed. He felt disoriented and dizzy. What had she said? He hadn't quite caught her answer. Oh, what would he give to chart that 'virgin' territory. He swallowed again and Mandy watched his Adam's apple bob up and down nervously. She stifled a giggle.

Go on... do it. You want to see his response don't you?

That voice egged her on again. The sexual intensity of that voice stoked the heat inside her. No, no.. I can't. This is not me. She was the quiet one. The shy one that hadn't dated any boy in the 14 years of her life. She would never display herself like this. She certainly wouldn't be enjoying it!

Just a dream... Go one. You can do it.

She hesitated. Mr. Whitman was directing the next question of his informal quiz to some boy sitting behind her. But his eyes kept coming back to her. Or to the scene under her table anyway. She sat at the front row so only Mr. Whitman could see what was going on. So could Becky and Ling, if they were looking, but they weren't. Not yet anyway.

Look closely at his pants. I bet you'll see some changes there soon... the voice playfully told her.

Mandy took her pen up in her slender fingers. It had been a gift from her Dad. The cap had the shape of a little Mickey Mouse figurine. Her hand snaked surreptitiously between her thighs, the pen held in her slightly trembling fingers. She pressed Mickey Mouse's head tightly against her panties. She felt the ridges and bumps of the little figurine as she started sliding it up and down. Through the thin cotton fabric, she could tell which bumps were Mickey's ears, which were the arms and the legs as they rubbed into her tender parts, sending delightful tingles all over her heated body.

She looked up at Mr. Whitman. There was a change in his pants. A change he was desperately hiding behind the book he was carrying. Shielded by 'Geography for GCSE', he retreated behind his desk and sat down hurriedly. A thrill ran through her as she remembered the bump in his pants she saw forming just before he covered it with the text.

Her table was directly in front of his desk and he literally had a front-row view. He kept stealing glances at her as she continued rubbing Mickey back and forth. He couldn't believe his eyes. Her cotton panties were semi-transparent now, they were slick with her heated fluids. A glistening strand dangled from Mickey's head. Mr. Whitman kept reminding himself to look away as he struggled to keep the class going as normal.

He wasn't concentrating well. His mind was on the Geography lesson but it kept straying to that forbidden place southwards of that little slip of a girl... that unexplored southland between those sweet thighs - that terra australis. And she was playing with it with a pen. And it was one with a Mickey Mouse figurine on the cap! His manhood surged and pointed skyward proudly - from behind the privacy of his desk of course. It obscured his lower body from the students so effectively that he was confident enough to secretly massage his stiffness with one hand.

Mandy was well past the point of no return now. She had slouched in her seat and was breathing raggedly. She kept pushing Mickey inwards but the panties resisted the pen's intrusion. She was frustrated and aroused at the same time.

You are so, so hot and sexy, Mandy... she felt the voice in her head tell her. She flushed as she felt the waves of lust and pleasure coming from him. Yes, somehow, she knew, it was a him. He was reveling with her in the sexual energy that electrified her young body.

Go on.. push the pen in.

It was an old pair of panties. Washed too many times and now made semi-transparent by her copious teen juices, the fabric was not strong enough to protect her virgin cunny from this determined invader. She pushed firmly, feeling the wet, flimsy cotton tear and the Mickey Mouse pen sliding up into her. Mandy froze at the sudden foreign invasion, the pleasure and even pain from every ridge and bump on Mickey rubbing against her sensitive passage resulting in a sensory overload that just about blew all her circuits. She unfroze and convulsed and tried to stifle the sound that was rushing out of her throat all at the same time.

"Ngggnnnhhhhhhh!!" Every muscle in her body clamped down on the pen, squeezing the life out of Mickey. Churning vaginal muscles sucked and squeezed - she felt the pen, already slippery with juices, slip out of her fingers. It was sucked into her hungry hole until only the half an inch was left protruding lewdly from her entrance.

As the stifled half-scream, half-groan escaped from her lips, Mandy felt the attention of the class turn to her. She whipped her hand away from her crotch and quickly closed her legs just in time. "Sorry," she said weakly, "I... um..."

Saw a cockroach scuttle across the floor

"I saw a cockroach scuttle across the floor."

"Where? Where?? " several girls squealed. The class was instantly in an uproar. Girls were squealing and getting off the floor onto their chairs in fear. And boys were hooting and making a ruckus in general just for the fun of it.

Meanwhile, poor Mandy was having trouble with her pen. "I can't get it out!!" she thought to the voice. Try clenching. It may push it out again. She clenched her vaginal muscles, trying to expel the pen. Mickey dug into her tender bits. That nearly made her scream again. She decided that she would use the confusion in the classroom to escape to the toilet where she could extract the pen in privacy.

Mr. Whitman remained behind his desk (temporarily rendered incapable of leaving its protection) whilst he tried impotently to restore order. Mandy quickly got up and crossed over to his table. "Mr. Whitman, I must use the restroom," she said and fled before he could get a word in.

She walked quickly to the girl's toilets. For her, every step was sweet agony. The slightest movements she made made the Mickey Mouse figurine on her pen chafe and tickle, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through her. Her pert bottom clenched beneath her pleated skirt at the sensations, making the pen move again so that Mickey tormented her in a vicious cycle that increased her arousal beyond bound but was not enough to bring her to that peak that she hungered for. What it was she hungered for, her innocent mind didn't know, but some deep instinct made her crave it with abandon.
She slammed the cubicle door shut and locked it. Sitting on the toilet, she gave a sigh of relief.

Spread your legs and let me see.

She self-consciously pulled up her skirt and spread her slender thighs. Looking down, she saw her juicy, stained panties and the tear in the centre just where the opening to her cunny - that's what she called it - was. She blushed at the lewd sight. Whatever had she been thinking at the time??!! About an inch and a half of the pen poked out of her cunny from the torn panties. It wiggled whenever she moved.

That's the cutest sight I've ever seen... She sensed laughter in his voice. "It's not funny!" she said indignantly. She tried pulling the pen out but it was too slippery from the shining coat of viscuous lubrication that had completely covered it.

You have to try pushing it out with your muscles.

She tried that. As her silky cunny walls contracted around Mickey, she saw stars in her vision. "Unnhhhh...." a soft groan escaped from her clenched jaw. She saw that it had slipped out just a little.

That's good.. keep going

She pushed again. She felt Mickey's ears catch against the wall of her vagina. She hissed. Her whole body was covered with a sheen of sweat. Her thighs were shiny with a mix of sweat and juice. Her white, knee-length socks had slid down to her calfs. They felt hot and constricting. A shiny spot of moisture decorated her left shoe. During the walk to the toilet, some excess juices had dripped from her soaking crotch. Most landed on the floor and one drop had landed on her left shoe.

You're so sexy and so innocent at the same time. Keep pushing. You like how it feels don't you?

She shook her head. Her white shirt stuck to her sweaty skin. She smelt faintly of bubblegum, sweat and teen-girl sex. Strands of her long blond hair - tied in a pony tail - stuck to her flushed and sweaty face.

Mmmmm... that's it... just enjoy it. Feel it rushing over you.... mm.. you are such a hot little girl...

She panted as she clenched and pushed. The pen slid out little by little. Her fingers helped by pulling at the slippery pen. It felt so wrong. And so good. Oh, so good.

Good girl.. almost out.

Yes, almost out! She exulted.

Yes.. out it comes.

It came out with a wet sucking noise. Her pink hole remained open for the briefest of moments, sucking at the air as if it needed to be filled.
She sighed in relief.

But she felt empty. Like something was missing.

Push it in.

What???

Push it in. The voice repeated. "But I just got it out !" she protested.

Push it in. You know you want it. Keep a firm grip this time and don't push in more than half.

Mandy hesitated, the pen inches from her hole, which peeked out from the tear in her panties. The juiced up fabric clung to her and made her itch. She was confused by this hot, insistent itching. It made her squirm. Her hips lifted by its own accord just a fraction, thrusting out towards the pen.

"Uhh... uhhh... uhhh," with each soft gasp her hips pushed outward, straining for the Mickey Mouse pen that had already caused her so much trouble. She didn't understand what she was doing.

Go on, you know you want it.... no, you Need it, don't you?

She closed her eyes. Confused tears welling up. She was sweaty and hot in this stuffy and cramped toilet cubicle. She should be tidying up and getting back to class. But her half-woman, half-girl breasts felt heavy and sensitive. They were like quivering, white bunnies straining to escape from that shirt that now clung to her skin. The outlines of her white bra were more visible than usual under that sweaty school shirt. And why, why were her hips thrusting up at the pen?

Because hips don't lie. You need it. To be fucked. Taken.

Her eyes widened. A wave of lust crashed over her. Nooo.... she pressed her legs shut in defiance. But she found her thighs rubbing and squeezing together as though they had a mind of their own. She arched her back, luxuriating in the feeling as she clenched and unclenched her cunny muscles and squeezed hard. "Uhhhh...."

Open up.

Sitting there on the toilet, her legs fell open without resistance.

Push.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh......." her head fell back and the upthrust of her hips met the incoming Mickey-Mouse-cap pen. Her cunny which had never been invaded like this before today welcomed Mickey back with zest. Her cunny seemed to call out to Mickey to molest her with its little plastic arms and caress it with those plastic ears, legs and little bumps that rubbed her in such tantalizing ways. Her little fingers clenched the pen tightly to make sure it didn't slip and slide in completely like it did the last time.

Pull out.

Mandy obediently pulled out, gasping at all the feelings as Mickey slid backwards and rubbed her insides in a completely different but equally mind-blowing way.

Mmmm.... that's right, Mandy. Fuck that slutty slot of yours.

His rude words made her feel so naughty. She pumped Mickey in and out. Her other hand caressed her little breasts daringly, making her feel sensations she didn't know existed. Her lithe frame, taut and tense from her stimulations of her little cunny, melted under the knowing caresses of her other hand. She realised then, it was him making her hand caress herself. Even though it was her hand, she was in essence ,being touched by a stranger. She blushed in embarassment as she felt this stranger in her head intimately explore her hitherto untouched body.

Her hand arrived at her sopping cunny where the other hand that held the pen was pumping Mickey in and out. She felt her delicate fingers tentatively exploring the pink folds of her lips.

I like that you are so smooth and hairless here. She flushed beet-red at his comment on her most private parts.

Suddenly, her fingers sought out that little pink pearl hidden among the petals of her sex. "NNNGGGGHHHHH..... AHHHHH.... uhhhhhhhh .... uhhhhh...." In her overheated, oversexed state, the sudden, unexpected stimulation to her clitoris pushed her into the clouds of bliss. Mandy's first orgasm blossomed in her immature body, the strange new feelings completely overwhelming her. Not caring about the consequences, she thrust the entire length of her pen into her sex, embedding it to its hilt. Her cunny sucked it all in hungrily. This freed her hand to join the other one in furiously rubbing her swollen little clitty. She threw her head back and screamed.

***************************

Fourteen year-old Amanda Watson woke up in her bed. Her sheets were soaked with sweat. And other fluids. She woke up with both hands desperately frigging her cunny. She woke up in the throes of the most mind-splitting, and, her first ever, orgasm. She bit into Mr. Bear who was unfortunate enough to be near her head and hissed as her body writhed and convulsed.

It finally died down and she felt all the muscles in her body relax and loosen up - they felt like they had been tensed up all night. She was exhausted already. And she just woke up.

She was confused. She had never masturbated. Well, occasionally, she knew pressing her hand into her crotch felt good. But so did hot showers and waffles in the morning. She didn't know about this. But you can only dream about what you do know, can't you? But she had dreamt about all those naughty, naughty -perverted - things. Things she never even imagined in her wildest dreams. Well she just did. But the point stands. Where did these thoughts come from, if not from her?

WHO? Who was that voice? And it sounded... it even sounded familiar....

The name that had popped up once early in that vivid dream popped up again... David Turner!

**************************

David Turner, white male, aged 24 woke up in his bed. He'd never felt as good, or as confused as he did today.

He knew Amanda Watson was the neighbour's daughter. The neighbour's sizzling hot, every man's wet-dream of a daughter. Somehow he woke up just as his dream-girl (literally) was about to erupt in (probably, multiple) orgasms. Damn! He jerked off as he relived the last few moments of his vivid dream. As he came, he imagined coming in Mandy's hot, vice-like teen cunt.

After cumming harder than he had for a long time, he lay there and wondered about his dream for a while. But not for long - he was late for work already. Finding out just what the hell had just happened was going to be a story for another day.