What Dreams May Come Ch. 01

I think it was when time slowed to a crawl as I flew over that damn cow that I realized my life was going to change. Don't get me wrong, I love change. Maybe it's the ADHD, but life can't change fast enough for me most of the time. Speed is my life. I was born with legs that could almost outrun God's fastest crotch rocket, which is actually relevant to this story because that's how I ended up flying like a drunk monkey over that damn cow.

So, here's the thing: I hate hotel rooms. Hate 'em. They're all the same and impersonal and none of them actually feel like home. I like feeling at home. That may sound weird coming from a guy that likes change, but there it is. It was because I hated hotel rooms that it was necessary to have 18 girlfriends during the 2019 MLS Soccer season because that gave me a good place to stay for all 17 away games and a home base for the 17 home games. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an asshole: they all knew about each other. Hell, they even started their own Instagram group. It's just that I learned early on that I didn't have the kind of brain that could juggle 18 different realities and keep them all straight. I couldn't even keep all their names straight. I eventually developed a system of calling them all by the city they lived in. How do you get a woman on board with the idea of sharing an MLS forward with 17 other women around the country? Easy - just be honest with them about what you want and keep going until you gather a group of the greatest women to grace mankind. Well that, and you need a tongue that's faster than God's fastest crotch rocket. You heard it here first, guys.

Well anyway, Commerce City's apartment was perfect: really close to the Dick's Sporting Goods Park where we played and not too far from the Denver International airport on the I-70. I stopped by Commerce City's place after the game and by the time I'd finished painting her walls three times, I was late for a flight to play United FC and paint Golden Valley's walls in Minnesota. It was too late to wait for an Uber, so from where I'd left her panting behind the sofa, Commerce City threw me the keys to her Suzuki Hayabusa, the fastest piece of plastic you could get between your legs, and told me to leave it in Short-Term Parking. She also yelled for me to wear her helmet, but when I took a look at it, the thing was sky blue. I couldn't wear a sky blue helmet. It's not a macho thing, honestly. It's just common sense. Did you know that the name "Minnesota" actually comes from the Dakota Indian word for "land of sky blue waters" and, of course United FC's color was sky blue. So, fuck that. There was no way I was wearing that helmet. It was just bad mojo, people. You see where this is going, or should I shadow your fore a little more?

Let me say this: the area between Commerce City and the Denver Airport is a suburb in every sense of the word. There was no reason in hell a damn cow was supposed to be on the I-70 as I changed lanes to get on to Pena Boulevard, much less as I was going almost 180 mph not wearing a sky blue helmet on my thick head. I guess a truck that was taking a load of steers to the slaughterhouse overturned. A few got out. One of them ended my career as an MLS forward with 18 girlfriends.

I guess it took them a while to find me after I sailed over the death-cheating cud chewer, ricocheted off that car and landed in the back of a garbage truck headed back toward Denver. This guy kept prying my eye open and shining a light into it, his breath a bad advertisement for nacho-flavored Corn Nuts. I felt myself slipping away, not really caring about the beeping or the tubes in my arm, in my throat, or even in my cock...

My cock...

I opened my eyes to see a redhead kneeling between my legs on the bed, her green eyes laughing at my surprise. Redheads aren't usually my thing, but the fact that she was naked and working my cock deep into her throat at that moment went a long way towards changing my mind. I was transfixed. Lush plump lips slid down my cock, wet and shining with her saliva, then they puckered prettily around me and slid up to the fat tip, and then down again deeper and deeper until her nose pressed into my pubic hair. Wow. Redheads are totally my thing, I decided.

"Are we?" she asked, releasing my almost purple cock head with a pop and licking her lips with a naughty grin. Wait a minute. Did she hear me? I wondered, before she distracted me by plunging down on my cock again, bobbing and slurping away hungrily. It was a sight to behold. Her white skin shone like pearlescent smoke, hair swinging back and forth, and her breasts swaying with every eager stroke. When she bent forward to take me down her throat again, her hips rose up showing me a perfectly round pink ass that would jiggle like crazy once I got my cock up in there... and then I realized... I could see her sucking my cock, her lips curving around every vein and ridge... I could hear the wet sounds of her moaning and slurping and gulping me down, but I couldn't feel a damn thing.

"Wait... what is this?" I asked, watching her going to town on me again. I reached out to take the back of her head, but my hand just passed right through her.

"Move on to anal, Cake, he wants to see your ass jiggle..." a guy's voice said from behind me. She bounced up and turned around, wiggling her butt seductively for me before spreading her cheeks wide and slowly impaling herself on my cock. Fuck... nothing again! This was torture! Why couldn't I feel this? I watched her ass swallow my cock, slide up again and then smack down hard onto my hips, sending a ripple through her round cheeks. The voice behind me growled in appreciation. Normally, I'd turn to look at a random person who was growling in my ear, but what could I possibly see there that would top seeing my cock sliding into a bouncing ass? I stand by my choice. "Don't forget to sing, now, Cake," said the deeply unimportant voice.

"Happy birthday to you," the redhead sang in a breathy voice as she bounced up and down my cock, looking at me over her shoulder, "Happy birthday to you..." She began panting and rubbing her fingers against her clit, her ass shaking like a thing possessed. "Happy birthday, dear Cowboy... happy birthday to you!" At the last word, she arched her back and cried out as she took me deep inside her. I actually saw my cock explode in her tight channel through her translucent skin, sending out wild jets of come that floated like fireflies throughout her curvy body. After that, the redhead effortlessly spun around on my cock like a top and crossed her legs over my chest, grinning at the guy behind me who somehow removed his head out of my head and kissed her hungrily.

I looked around, surprised to see that I was in a hospital bed, my body wrecked. Machines surrounded me, their beeping and whirring sounds distant, yet close somehow. A woman in scrubs walked into the room and, apparently ignoring the impromptu porn show going on, wrote her name on a whiteboard by my bed along with the time. She checked a couple machines and looked me over, shifted my body around, checked my breathing, and straightened the blankets over me before moving to the other bed in the room. The bouncy assed redhead and the dude who had pulled his head out of my brain just stood there laughing at my reaction.

"What the hell is going on here? Why can't I feel anything? Who... who the fuck are you guys?" I demanded.

"I am Sloan, and as an observant person would have noted, this sweet confection is Cake. We are your welcoming committee," the guy said. "It is difficult to explain, but you likely could not fully experience that delightful performance because you are a novice at lovemaking," he said, like that's something you just say to a guy who satisfied 18 girlfriends between March and October. Fuck you Sloan, if that's even a guy's name, I thought. Then, I noticed that the Sloan guy wasn't talking anymore. He was looking at me.

"A novice at lovemaking, you say?" I said, showing off my active listening skills. "Tell me more. Sloan."

Sloan looked at me in a way that made me glad the redhead's ass was hiding my balls from him. Then, his mouth quirked. Yeah, I needed to find a protective cup pronto. "While words have their place, practical application is often a more effective means of teaching. Allow me, instead, to demonstrate," he said placing a hand on my forehead, then moving his other hand to the auburn curls between the Cake girl's legs, he slid his fingers inside her. She smiled like a spoiled cat and leaned back, resting her arms on my legs as she watched him begin working her clit with his thumb, moving three fingers in and out of her. I could hear the wet noises his fingers made inside her, the catch in her breath when her body started obeying him. Her mouth opened, her eyes closed tightly and I thought I felt her arms begin trembling on my legs, making her breasts quiver. Cake began moaning and stroking her ass up and down on me again, rolling her hips. There was no way this felt like nothing to her.

A shimmering dew of sweat broke out over her skin and I leaned up and took her freckled nipple in my mouth and sucked on it, holding it with my teeth and shaking it slightly. Cake squealed and shivered, squeezing her legs together tightly. Moving to the other nipple, I licked it into my mouth and could have sworn I tasted her sweat. I greedily swallowed up as much of her breast as I could fit into my mouth and I began meeting her thrusts with my hips, feeling surges of sensation coursing through me. "Get ready, Cowboy, I think our little firecracker is about to go off..." Sloan said, smirking.

"Nnngh, I'm not done with her. Not yet," I said, climbing up and turning Cake around on her knees, pushing her chest down to the bed. She squealed again as I grabbed her hips and pushed back into her tight ass, pistoning frantically, watching those rosy globes jiggling wildly, my hips slapping against her. I felt my surge and pulled her up against me, slamming deep into her again and again, grunting and filling her with my liquid heat, her body pulsing around me. Instead of seeing spurts of my come floating into her body, this time I watched amazed as Cake's skin swirled into the color of my come as if I had filled her up completely, even her dark green eyes lightening to a pale sage green. I pulled out and Cake collapsed onto the bed, smiling up at me, completely limp and blissed out. My work here was done.

I looked over at Sloan expecting an apology, maybe a mumbled compliment. He just looked down at Cake, nodded, and patted me on the back. "That was no less than what I expected of you," he said, laughing. I knew it wasn't a compliment. Whatever. Sloan.

I turned my attention to Cake instead, preferring to watch as she panted and gradually returned to her normal color. I liked her eyes. They were sweet and uncomplicated. Pure, even. Like she was one of those people who seem to take genuine delight in everything, but not because of what was going on, but because of what was inside of her. I glanced at Sloan, who still had that look like he knew every thought that went through my head. Somehow, him knowing what I'd just thought about Cake made me more embarrassed than any of the bullshit I'd thrown at him before. Uncomfortable, I looked back at Cake. She hugged her knees to her chest and looked back at me with glowing eyes. Then, I saw for the first time that she was curled up on top of my broken body, my own translucent one standing over her with come dripping from my cock. It was surreal, like those impossibly long seconds when I was flying over that cow. I took one of Cake's red curls and rubbed it between my fingers, just to have something to tell me I was still there.

"Hey, um Cake," I said, watching her eyes open and move up to mine. None of this seemed to be bothering her at all. "Is this... um... am I dreaming?" I asked her.

"No, honey," Cake giggled, leaning over and playfully licking the thick come off my cock. "You're in a coma. We all are. Welcome to the 8th floor, Cowboy..."