I’m still not convinced it wasn’t a dream, but even after waking this morning it all feels so real.
After a frustrating day of trying to find someone . . . anyone . . . who knew me in town, I gave up and went to bed. I lay there for hours in the dark, my mind not letting me sleep. Then I felt it. A change in the darkness, a lightly floral fragrance wafting through the room.
“Stop beating yourself up,” a soft feminine voice said.
I sat up in bed. “Who’s there?”
The lighting in the room brightened slowly to a dim glow, all on its own. In the doorway stood a woman, beautiful and completely naked. I wasn’t sure if I should scream or smile.
“Shhh . . .” She brought her finger to her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
My body reacted to the attractive way her breasts raised with each breath she took. “Do I know you?”
My brain still felt Swiss-cheesed, with no memory of the past six months, and plenty of holes going back much further.
“We met a little over a year ago, when you came out to visit our base.” Her silky tones were soothing, and I started to relax, but my rod continued to stand at full attention. This woman was hot.
I’m a Psylon.
The phrase echoed through my mind. It was the same voice, but her lips never moved. It was as if she spoke to me inside my head.
What the hell was a Psylon?
Looking back now, I see I once knew, and even wrote a blog about them here: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/2013/03/25/enter-the-psylons/
But last night I couldn’t remember anything about them.
“Don’t worry. Your memories will return in time. You’re still healing from the procedure, and right now you need me as much as I need you.” Her hips swung invitingly as she walked to the side of the bed. She leaned down and brought her lips to mine.
As our tongues tangled in a delightful dance, she slid between the sheets, reaching down to grasp my shaft.
She broke the kiss, leaving my head swimming in erotic delirium.
“I’m yours for tonight.”
If it was a dream, it was a very wet one.