Jean Genie

Maggie woke up from the dream with sodden panties, and a fierce need to masturbate. She’d never had a dream that intense before.

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Her hands were in her panties before she fully finished waking up.She listened to her own squelching wetness as the found her clit.

She’d never thought much about her neighbor before.She didn’t even know his name; he was just B4.She saw him in the parking lot sometimes. He had luxurious dark hair and a clipped beard. He always said hello, and was scrupulously polite. She just categorized him as neighbor – normal neighbor for that matter. Maggie’s life didn’t have a lot of space for normal.She’d once referred to a date as “a real grown up” to her therapist.

In the dream though, he was different.She saw him sitting on his patio, a book in his lap and a glass of wine on the table. He invited her over, invited her into his small patio. And because it was a dream she had found herself on his patio, naked.

On her bed, she began rolling her nipples between her fingers.Her other hand, still teased her clit as she remembered the dream. She glanced at the clock, knowing that she had plenty of time to milk the dream for every morsel of inspiration.

Her thoughts went back to the dream.

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Naked on his patio, she’d straddled his lap, kissing him. The brush of his beard made her tremble. His lips were soft yet demanding.She felt the soft rasp of his jeans against her bare thighs, and twisted her fingers in his hair. He kept it a little long, enough for her to grasp a handful. He broke the kiss, pulling his lips away from hers, just enough to whisper something that sounded like “Shahzada.”

She felt his lips move against hers to form the word.

Even outside the dream, she had no idea what it meant, but she found herself whispering it as she slipped her fingers into her wet slit. She bit her lip and moaned.

He tilted his head down, kissing her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. She let her head fall back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth. He reached her breasts and buried his face between them. She groaned when his lips closed around her nipple. He sucked softly at first, harder as she ground her hips against him, his pants bulging around his erection. Maggie reached down and unzipped his pants.

He paused in his attention to her nipples, and gazed up at her. His eyes were dark, pupilless. She froze suspended in his gaze, until he blinked and smiled at her. Maggie felt her own lips quirk into a smile, only to lose it when he returned to her nipples.

Maggie returned her attention to his pants, freeing his cock from it’s denim prison. It sprang forward, hard and ready for her. She grasped it, sliding her hand up and down, loving the sound of his desperate groan.


“Shahbanu” he whispered to her, “will you forever torment me?” His voice was thick with desire and, Maggie thought, despair.

Maggie tilted her pelvis, rubbing the head of his cock over her dripping pussy. He sat still beneath her, and she could feel his muscles tensing, as if he was just waiting to be released.

Maggie locked eyes with him, again the darkness in them unnerved her, but she didn’t stop. She moaned as he filled her, and that seemed to break his resolve.

His hands closed on her waist and he ground his pelvis into her, with a growl.

And her dream ended.

The frustration of the unfinished dream, was lessened by her impending orgasm. Her fingers plunged into her pussy, as she recalled his cock. She cried out as she came.

Later that day, she ran into B4 in the laundry room. She felt herself blush and thought he blushed too. As she piled lace panties and lingerie into the machine, she watched him.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she said offering him her hand. “I’m Maggie.”

He took her hand and grew pale. “Shahzada, you saw,” he pulled his hand away. “That dream wasn’t for you.”


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