What are the chances? Sure, it’s easy to figure out that half the time the coin will come up heads. But what about the seemingly random events that led to the stars, the sun, the Earth and the moon? How about incidental plagues that defeated invading armies? And then there was this stone. It was an unusual, pretty stone. How likely was it that this rock that coalesced in space would have just those elements and crystalize just like it did? Or that it fell to Earth and landed on this beach right where the lady would kick it and notice its sparkle?
A beachcomber spotted the lady admiring the stone’s ruby-red stripes and emerald glitter. The lady had no interest in keeping the stone and gladly gifted it to the beachcomber, who later tumbled the stone smooth and fashioned it into a pendant. She selected a sturdy gold chain and displayed it on its own, feeling that she could ask for a high price for this unusual piece.
A buyer, Jason, happily paid the price and gave it to his girlfriend, Patty, who loved it and wore it for years and years.
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Shawn opened the box that his dad gave him after his mom passed. Most of her things had been donated after his brother and sister had claimed their mementos. Shawn chose a few pictures and other memorabilia that he admitted would probably never leave the box. The exception was a necklace that she often wore, the one with a stone with red stripes and that sparkled green. He teared up a bit as he put it on, and made a mental note to get a more manly chain. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and placed a picture of his parents on display. She was wearing the pendant in that picture. The note taped to the frame read, “Jason and Patty, at the beach,” with the date.
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Are dreams wishes or housekeeping? Could they be influenced from whispers during the night?
Shawn woke up on the couch during the aftermath of a wet dream. At thirty-two, he thought those days were long behind him. He cleaned himself and hoped he could fall right back asleep. That dream stuck with him, though. He was near this young couple but they didn’t see him. They were naked, kissing, and awkwardly groping, about to make love. There was not so much as a whisper in this silent dream. The boy started to put it in, took it out and started again. They went a little further each time until he was in all the way. Shawn sensed accomplishment, some pain, and love. The boy rocked gently and soon climaxed. The girl felt it; Shawn knew that she felt it.
Damned if I don’t have another hardon. Shawn ignored it, ignored the dream, and managed to fall back asleep.
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Shawn was on his first date alone with Sheila. Before tonight, they only went on group outings with his sister and friends. Sis had fixed them up and, until now, she had completely failed at matchmaking. This one, though, she was the best match yet. Sheila invited him into her apartment after they walked back from dinner and offered him a drink and no promises.
They chatted and sipped wine. During one of their few silent moments she settled against his shoulder. They talked some more about nothing and had some more wine. Shawn took the glass from her. “I wouldn’t want to see that get spilled.” Sheila shyly smiled, placed her freed hand behind his neck, and pressed her lips onto his.
They kissed tenderly for a while. Shawn looked at her face as he placed a hand to the top button of her blouse. She nodded slightly and he undid it, and the next. She sighed as he kissed her neck and exposed flesh. They kissed more, less hesitantly and more insistently. She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers through the modest hair as they continued to exchange kisses on their chests, necks and mouths.
For an instant, Shawn had the bizarre feeling that they were being watched. He stopped and she asked what the matter was.
“You don’t have roommates, do you?”
“No, why?”
He didn’t know what to say next, so he kissed her along the top of her bra. Sheila giggled and took his face in her hands. “We should call it a night.” Shawn gave her a little smile and nodded. He offered to help pick up and she said she’d get it in the morning. He started to button up his shirt when she asked about the pendant.
“It was a gift from my dad to my mom before they got engaged.”
Shelia held the pendant. “That’s sweet.”
“Can I call you again?”
“I’d like that.” She gave him one last long kiss. He noticed that she hadn’t bothered to button up her own shirt. They said their good-nights and Shawn walked back to the restaurant to get his car.
He could not shake the feeling that, just as things were heating up, he was being watched.
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That night he had another silent, erotic dream. This time the woman squatted on the man’s lap. He was inside her and she was grinding against his pubic bone. The closer they got to climax, the clearer the dream became. It was the same couple as his last dream, only her hair was shorter and his underdeveloped mustache was gone. A pendant banged against her chest in rhythm with their coupling. Shawn’s hips moved along in his sleep as he clutched at the stone around his neck.
He was fixated on the young woman as she repeatedly impaled herself. Her splendid breasts pointed to the ceiling as she leaned back and held on to the man’s legs. She took in short shallow breaths with each thrust, unable to exhale as she approached her peak. Suddenly she gasped and all three climaxed together. The woman seemed to look at Shawn as she held her pendant. He was startled awake as he realized that the pendant the woman wore was his pendant, his mother’s pendant.
I’ve been dreaming about mom and dad! He rushed to change out of his shorts and went to the sofa to watch TV. He did not want to go back to sleep.
Those dreams continued, though, almost every night.
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Shawn had called Sheila, who suggested that she would fix dinner for them at her place on Saturday. He readily agreed and when Saturday arrived, Shawn was greeted at her door with a prolonged kiss.
Sheila was wearing the same outfit from their previous date, with small adjustments. The buttons on her ivory blouse were undone just as she had left them the other night. This night, a group of gold chains adorned her chest and Shawn suspected she was wearing a different bra. She wore the same black mini-skirt but this time her legs were bare and she wore black kitten-heel sandals, replacing the leggings and sensible flats from before.
“I didn’t really cook, I hope you don’t mind.” She took his hand and walked him inside, revealing platters of cheeses and breads with dipping oils. Two bottles of wine were arranged next to two empty glasses. “I already opened one to let it breathe.”
Shawn took the hint and poured as she settled on the sofa, knees together and legs to the side. He handed her wine to her and sat alongside. They clinked glasses and sipped. “I couldn’t imagine a better meal.”
They chatted, snacked, drank and occasionally kissed. She played with her chains now and then and he couldn’t help but gaze when she did.
Lift the chains.
Without thinking, Shawn reached for her necklaces. He looked out the corners of his eyes. Did someone say something?
Lift the chains.
Shawn’s hand continued and lifted the necklaces away from Sheila’s chest. She gasped a tiny bit and locked her eyes onto his. “These look really pretty on you.” He caressed her with the backs of his fingers as he slowly allowed the chains to fall back into place.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she quickly reached for her wine.
Shawn wondered why he did that. That wasn’t a voice, exactly. Intuition? A prompt? And again, he had that feeling of being watched.
Sheila pulled his face to hers and placed her lips to his. She gently stroked his lips with her tongue until their mouths opened for the most engaging kiss of the evening. She lifted her almost-empty glass and held it aloft. Shawn copied her as she downed the remainder of her drink and stood. “Would you like to continue in the other room?”
Shawn quickly stood. His thoughts interrupted, he was unsure what to do with his glass but recovered enough to finish his drink and set the glass down. Sheila was pleased that she had caught him off-guard. She slid a finger under his chain, feeling the weight of his pendant. She undid his top button, turned and walked towards her bedroom. Shawn kicked off his shoes and followed.
They embraced at the foot of the bed. Sheila slowly worked the rest of his buttons. Shawn reached behind her neck to remove the necklaces.
Leave them.
Shawn’s hands jerked away. Instead, he looped his hands under her shirt and unfastened her bra. Sheila caressed Shawn’s exposed chest while he finished with her buttons. He draped her blouse off her shoulders which allowed her bra to fall away onto the floor. Shawn lifted a breast and faced a nipple.
Hold it in your teeth.
Shawn acted on instinct and did as urged. Sheila gasped at the sensation and tried to push herself into his mouth. He held on a little longer, though, before he began sucking. She sighed and unzipped her skirt. Her lacy black panties fell next, beside their matching bra.
Shawn’s belt, button and fly had been undone. Sheila dragged her nails against his leg as she pulled his underwear and pants down together. She looked up at him when she reached the floor and he stepped out. Still squatting, she confronted his manhood. She traced one finger up the side by his belly, lingered at the bead on the tip, and back down the other side, causing it to repeatedly twitch. She stood, held up the finger with the droplet and made a show of brushing it along her clit.
She spun on her heels and swung her hips as she approached the night stand. Sheila presented her backside as she bent at the waist. She playfully looked over her shoulder as she showed him the condom package. She carefully opened it as she strode back to cover him up. She gave him a quick peck and climbed onto the bed. Her smile invited him to join her as she lay on her side.
They briefly kissed and caressed until Shawn shifted her onto her back. He teased her open and massaged her lips with her juices. Her legs spread wide as he climbed on top. He beheld her face, her eyes closed, as he slid inside. She let out a breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding. He stayed in place until her eyes opened. They smiled and their eyes closed together as he began his thrusts. She wriggled her hips, guiding him where he needed to be. He paced himself, not wanting to end too soon.
She’s ready. She’s ready.
His gut told him to follow the cue and he picked up his speed and force. That’s what she had been waiting for and she clawed the sheets into her fists as she climaxed. Shawn followed as she squeezed him tightly from inside. They rested briefly and he withdrew. Sheila removed his rubber and discarded it for him.
As they rested, Shawn felt – approval?
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Can observing something change Its outcome? In sub-atomic quantum physics, yes, but what about that butterfly that caused that hurricane? Would simple surveillance prevent the storm? Does the butterfly even know it’s being watched? Or would someone have to actually talk to the butterfly?
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Shawn had come to terms that he was having carnal dreams about his parents. He missed his mom dearly and, as twisted as it made him feel, he delighted in seeing her again. There were many different dreams at different places and stages of their lives. Many were repeated and he dreamt them often. He developed favorites and found that if he directed himself as he fell asleep, he could pick the dream he wanted.
He revisited one dream in particular many times. Nothing stood out that would induce him to come back to this dream, but there they were, in their first house, simply making love. He felt her frustration over not climaxing but also a deeper sense of joy that followed immediately after. That was the dream he chose one night and at its end he spoke in his sleep.
I love you, Mom.
She placed a hand on her belly and sighed.
Shawn’s eyes shot open. That was new. The dreams never changed. If he dreamt something more than once, it played out the same way every time. Not this time, though. Curious but tired, Shawn fell back asleep and had dreams that weren’t worth remembering.
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Shawn was determined to dream the same dream again the next night. Maybe that night he could get his psyche or whatever away from his parents’ private moments and dream of some other times. He’d love to see her with a sheet of hot cookies or maybe dressed up for a night out with dad. Resting on his back, he could tell that he was asleep and he knew that he was dreaming. It played itself out as before.
I love you, Mom.
She placed a hand on her belly and sighed.
Mom. Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Her hand gripped the pendant on her chest. Shawn in turn gripped his, and woke up.
The pendant.
“Oh my dear god,” Shawn gasped. He climbed out of bed, trembling. He poured a bourbon and downed it all at once. He poured a second and sat in the kitchen in the dark. These weren’t just dreams he was having. He was actually watching his parents fuck, over and over again in the past, and most of the time he creamed his shorts when they did. He sipped his whisky.
The sensations of being watched when he was with Sheila were real, too, he realized. Somewhere, no, some time, someone had his pendant and was peeping at him like he was peeping at his mother. He finished his drink and started a third. Were they talking to him? They were talking to him, giving him instructions on how to get his girlfriend off.
Oh shit!
It wasn’t very late so he took out his phone, except he realized he had nobody to talk to about this. His brother? His sister? They always accused him of being mom’s favorite. They’d lock him up before believing him. Sheila? That would be a quick finish to a beautiful relationship.
He took the chain from around his neck and tossed it onto the table. He occupied himself with the wonders of late, late-night TV. He brought the bottle with him.
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The next morning he left the pendant home and brought the aspirins to work. He broke his date with Sheila that night, truthfully complaining about his splitting headache. He could never tell her or anyone else about this. He would lock it up and try never to think about the people that used that magic voyeur rock to spy on them. But when he got home, he slipped it over his head again anyway. He rationalized that he could leave the pendant behind when he was with Sheila. And he wouldn’t always have to wear it to bed. He picked up his bottle of bourbon and found it to be empty. It’s just as well.
That night he resolved to go back to that dream one last time to say goodbye. He relaxed and made himself drift in the direction he needed to go. Again, his dad was on top of his mother, about ready to finish. Shawn watched her as she squirmed underneath and, inspired, he spoke to her.
Lift your knees.
Patty lifted one leg and then the other, her feet slipping on the sheets.
Mom, lift your knees.
She again lifted her knees, planting her feet and holding her ankles. Her butt rose off the bed as she had the orgasm she had been seeking. Jason erupted inside her a few seconds later.
I love you, Mom.
She placed a hand on her belly and sighed.
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What are the chances? There are fifty million sperm cells in one ejaculate. What about the little fella or gal who makes it first to the egg? First cum first served? Does the best sperm win? Is there a way to fix the race?
For example, does the position of a woman’s legs matter at all when the man shoots inside?
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Shawna rarely used the pendant to peep at her parents, but when she did, she was often drawn to this particular dream. She held the pendant to her lips and kissed it.
She was glad that she got her beauty sleep because she had big plans for her show tonight. This evening would be Shawna’s first threesome and she wouldn’t want to disappoint her "peeps” who were watching her from the future.
