Dreamweaver

I am Dreamweaver. I've been called many names, and been many things to many people. I am the one that directs your most secret dreams and desires. I can make them real. I can make them nightmares that will haunt you the rest of your life. You can help control your dream to the extent I allow. Worthy? Not? It's my discretion.

You may doubt my existence, but to do so may put you at risk.

I am the resulting convergence of the ancient cult, in human form. It really doesn’t matter how I came to being, suffice to say I am here. A biological fact of life is that you must dream. It’s a necessary, neigh, crucial brain function that allows our memory to be ordered and retained.

I am Dream Weaver. I’ve been written about for centuries. Classical and current. Different names, I’ve been called Sleep Walker. So if you dare, post your dream. I can make it come true.

A word of caution. The idiom ‘Careful what you wish for, because it may come true,’ warned us to be wary of dreams coming true. The reality may be more than you bargained.

So come in, come in! The dream station is open. Sit, chat with others. Perhaps share a dream.

I need you. You see I hope to appoint my successor from among you. So I can dream.

Please leave incestuous dreams behind, I can't make them true. Goes for bodily waste also.

David's Dream

David’s Dream

“Mr. Henderson! Did you hear me! Are you with us or are you not? This committee meeting is very important and if we don’t all get something on paper soon we can all kiss this assignment good by and for that matter any chance of a bonus.”

David turned his gaze from the window that overlooked the park where several preschool children were playing, caught up in a spontaneous flurry of motion, their arms extended as their feet led them in random directions. Some of them flapped their arms as if they were birds or airplanes about to take off, others stopped and stood with their heads raised towards the sky their arms quiet as if their bodies were waiting for liftoff.

He offered no apology for his behavior instead he smiled and cleared his throat “Perhaps we need to take a break.” He got up gathered his papers together snapped his briefcase shut and walked out the door. On the way out he loosened his tie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his stiff white shirt and deposited his briefcase, papers and all in the nearest trash receptacle.

“Fuck the committee, fuck the meeting, fuck the whole damned job.” He said, without rancor, for there was a grin on his face as he made his way down the street. He had more important things to do than spend his time analyzing marketing costs and juggling meaningless figures around in his head for some greedy corporation.

Just what those important “things” were he was uncertain of only that somewhere, sometime soon he was about to find out. His only clue was what he had seen in the park and what he was feeling. A dream to recreate something that long ago he had wished for, a dream to be able to fly unassisted and share that dream with others who like himself craved the feeling of being free from the bonds of gravity.

He wandered aimlessly but with an inner sense of purpose past the park into a secluded neighborhood, across a railroad track. A redbrick building prevented him form going further, it seemed to stretch beyond his sight both to the left and to the right. He tried the door but was unable to open it. He sat down on a bench and heard the distant sound of a train. He closed his eyes concentrating on the sound as it drew nearer the ground rumbled under his feet and he began to breathe, deep long breaths in and out in time with the haunting wail of the trains whistle.

David's Dream...

Swirling and misty clouds, light foggy wisps that drift like silk to caress and cradle a body.

"David.........." His name gently sang out on the shimmering whistle of the train. Did he hear it? "David....."

Arms of the fog wind around him as he sleeps, wrapping him in the cool embrace of another existence. Shadowy feathers of light drift across his lips and down his spine. "Come with me David... I have much to show you."

She brought him down a little deeper. "David.... tell me..." A fleeting figure danced beyond his eyes, her long hair curling and swirling in the clouds. A hand touched his brow, light and smoothly soothing. A little more David... Dark eyes caught the faint gray mist and refracted it back like a thousand prisms... had he seen her?

Those eyes promised fulfillment. "Come to me David...."

Her muscles burned, her heart was pounding, her eyes were so stung and wind-beaten that they flowed with fresh tears. And still she ran. Ran and ran and ran till her legs screamed and her sides were so stitched with pain that she would have doubled over were it not for the sheer terror that kept her moving. She had to run... had to keep moving. If she didn't... he would find her. He would hurt her. And she couldn't... wouldn't go through that again.

Something caught the toe of her shoe... She fell. Tumbling, she felt the uneven, unforgiving ground rush up to meet her, ripping at her clothes, bruising and scratching and cutting her fair skin. She tumbled until her body came to a stop, and already she could hear his footsteps in the dark. "Hooope... Why are you running from me, Hope? I thought you loved me. You know I love YOU!" and he was on her.

She screamed, struggling beneath him, sobbing, begging, squirming and fighting even as a hard backhanded slap landed against her delicate cheek, causing her head to snap to the side. At that, she fell still, though she was still begging him. "No... please no... not again... please..." Her shaking hands tried to push him away, and she fought in vain to keep her legs closed to him even as he shoved his way between the shapely appendages.

"What do you mean no, Hope? You said you loved me. This is what women do for the men they love!" his voice was angry, vicious, and his hand clamped around her throat even as she screamed for help... Trying desperately to find someone... anyone who would free her from this hell. Of course... when this had all really happened... Hope had been too afraid to fight really, too afraid to scream for help...

Maybe... this time...

Hope's Dream...

Dreamweaver smiled sadly. Of all the dreams to be dreamed, the nightmares of the innocent were the most taxing and terrible to behold of all.

The dreams of those threatened with genocide, torture, lust and pain, terror, dread and fear took a peice of her soul and left her with great sadness.

She could help them, if they dared to hope.

Hope. Dreamweaver looked fondly at her, writhing in the grip of a madman. Does she have hope? "Hope..." she called to her with the voice of a lover. One buried deep. "Hope, you can hear me..."

Dreamweaver let herself be seen as this lover, reaching out a strong hand, beyond him.

"Take my hand Hope..." His voice played along the edge of her dream, calling her to take back hope. "Hope, come with me..."

She was just about to give up, to let it happen... when that voice reached her ears. That voice... It was like rich, dark velvet passing and caressing her pale skin in the most soothing of ways. Strong and sure, even though it was faint, fleeting along the edges of her subconscious, the madman above her still tearing at her clothes, lifting her skirt.

She gasped against the hand around her throat, her hands lifting to claw at his wrists even as her eyes turned this way and that, looking for the hand she'd seen earlier on the skirts of her vision. Please... please help me... she begged that distant savior.

Her hands left the arm of the man holding her down by her neck, reaching, pleading, stretching... He was there... she'd heard him... she'd seen that hand... Please... Just a little closer... Please help me... I need you... I don't want this again... Save me...

That voice had been a glimmer... a slight light in the darkness. Hope. Thats what it was... her name sake... Hope incarnate. And still her fingers reached, she fought, tried to get away from the man atop her, begging that savior to find her, to take her away.

Hope's Dream

Of all the predators, man was the worst. He could foul, rend and break his fellow man with impudent sullenness and show no remorse, instead relishing the havoc he created. The innocents were always their prey and broken the most hideously.

Dreamweaver heard her plea, Please... please help me... Please... Just a little closer... Please help me... I need you... I don't want this again... Save me... He wouldn't save her, but he'd nudge her to save herself.

With a heat that radiated and penetrated, he pushed inside her, filling her body with his warmth. Calming and focusing each of her jangled nerves, calming the distress and slowing time so she could feel him. Dreamweaver surrounded and engulfed her, sang along her veins and surged in her belly. “You have the strength Hope, you have the strength to rid yourself of this beast.” She could tear him apart, rip apart his manhood, gouge his eyes, anything that would avenge his treatment and give her enough strength and confidence to bid goodbye to this nightmare creature forever. “You can, Hope.”

A knife appeared in her hands. It was up to her to use it.

The calm that settled over Hope was almost eerie. She stopped fighting, stopped begging, her mind seemed to go quiet, focused... She could do anything. Would do anything.... as she saw fit. Staring up at the man atop her, the knife was in her hand before she even realized what was going on.

When the weight filled her palm, she looked down at it and for a long moment, was paralyzed. Not necessarily by the weapon itself... but by the fear that her first instinct filled her with. What was her first instinct? Rid herself of him. Stab him, cut him... Leave him bleeding slowly, suffering a torturous death. What was she thinking? She couldn't hurt someone like that...

Not her. She'd always been the peaceful sort. She just didn't have... the stomach to do something like that to someone. Just as the instinct to drop the knife filled her and she was about to let go, however, something else shifted.

Something... between her legs. Pain ripped through her, her body arched hard, a silent scream leaving her lips as tears slid down her cheeks. And then her hand moved in a flash, far faster than the thought as to what she was doing filled her.

His thrusting stopped as he paused above her, eyes wide, shocked, surprised. The knife had sunk in cleanly, severing the muscle at the base of his neck, stabbing down at an angle through jugular and tendon and esophagus alike. Blood spilled from the wound, bubbled up from his mouth, and just as he was about to sag against her, Hope pushed him off and scrambled away, shaking and trembling, staring at the man who had victimized her for so long...

Somehow... somehow she'd found the strength to make him the victim. But how? And who was that mysterious man? She knew she'd seen a hand... heard a voice... felt someone there.

Tears sliding down her cheeks. Hope dropped the knife finally, blood all over her hands as she inched away from the body, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them. "Hello?"

Hope's Dream

"Clean and pure," Dreamweaver eased the body and blood away, not in any showy flash, but they faded all the same.

“You needed to be able to defend yourself, Hope. It’s not right to feel guilt for protecting yourself.” He stroked her back, materializing next to her with his arms holding her soft and warm against his chest. “He can’t be in your dreams now, you beat him.”

Dreamweaver rocked her as a child until her trembling stopped. She’d see him coloured with her own patina, provided by her mind, so he didn’t try and project a figure or face. Dreamweaver was content to hold her until she felt able to face her fear and triumph.

Hope could live in the real world with the fear of this man, this tormenter, but she didn’t have to live with nightmares of him. He could hope that she’d find that the strength she displayed in her dreams could reshape her waking world. He’d help her.

In a sweet whoosh, he took her away, he sat behind her, a warm embrace, his breath in her ear. “It’s peaceful here, the waves...Relax... Hope.” The moon and ocean waves beat an eternal rhythm, tuned to slow the thudding of her heart. “You can dream... beautiful dreams.”

“If you want.”

Hope lifted a pair of deep, cerulean blues up to meet the man who was kneeling beside her, a warm arm around her. Her dark red hair fell in waves around her, the blood gone from them, tangles somehow falling away to leave in in the soft, silken waves she normally had to work so hard to get.

He himself was, to her, an Adonis. With midnight black hair that caught the light and reflected it in shades of blue, and a pair of startling green eyes that were at once warm and wild, fringed with long black lashes. He smiled at her, spoke, his hand caressing her cheek. She was lost for words.

And then he shifted, the place changed... Moonlight shone down upon them both, bringing out the different hues in her naturally red hair, leaving her ivory skin to have a soft, subtle glow to it. Moon kissed...

She leaned back against him, head resting against his shoulder even as her arms found his own wrapped around her waist, resting over them, willing them to stay there... just like that. She listened to the sounds of the waves, imagined the water lapping at the shore. And even as she sat there, just soaking it in, the scene shifted just a bit, each moment adding a little more and a little more, making this fantasy place just a little more in depth, adding real detail to it.

The beach extended toward them, ending in a line of large rocks, flat enough in some places to sit on, and this is where Hope would find herself in the arms of this dream man. Beyond the rocks lay pure, soft green grass that shone silver in the moonlight above. Turning, she looked up at her handsome visitor, and a slow smile creeped over her lips.

Leaning in, she brushed her lips over his own before shifting onto the balls of now bare feet, her loose skirt flowing around her in the night breeze, any evidence of the other man's ravaging gone. "Tag, you're it."

And then she was jumping off the rocks, lifting her skirt up around her thighs for easy movement, and taking off at a playful run across the sand, waiting to see if he would follow.

Hope's Dream

The beach could have glittered with the sun, as her mood shifted from fear, self-doubt and quiet dispair to wonder and awakening. She was beautiful in the moonlight. She was one that Dreamweaver could rest with a while, so many years of so many dreams. He watched as the dream became more detailed, she'd started directing the flow, colouring the beach in her mind's eye, subtle nuance and shades of silver.

He saw himself, her image of him and smiled. They were well matched, a compliment to each other. This Hope, this shy sweet woman, deserved her dreams to be full and rich and pain free.

A soft brush of her lips across his, and she was gone, quick and lithe as a deer, gathering her skirts to run, her creamy thighs and legs pale in the moon. He'd chase her, catch her. But not before her heart beat quick with emotion and exertion. His laugh rang out behind her, as a promise. "I'm coming... to get you..."

Hope laughed, her heart already starting to thunder in her chest, making her breathless as she ran, glancing behind her even as her long hair and her skirt both billowed out behind her, catching the light, looking almost like something so picturesque, not even Hollywood could to it justice.

She shifted, pivoting on her heel, running backward, the wind catching her hair and whipping it around her, making it move and writhe as if it had a life of it's own. His voice was still that dark, rich velvet that passed over her like water. It sent chills through her, but still she kept moving, though not as quick now, letting her skirt fall down around her legs again, ending just above where it would brush the sand, only her tiny, bare feet showing.

Quietly, she watched him, longed for him... Wanted him to be real so badly it made her heart ache. Why couldn't men like that really exist? Why was he only in her dreams? Hopefully, she'd see him again. Her mind would bring him back.

Smiling, forcing the potentially depressing thoughts away, Hope threw out her arms and spun in a circle, her halter top giving a lovely view of the graceful line of her back, the subtle curves of her figure. "You've gotta catch me first," she laughed, and the sound was a musical thing.

Hope's Dream

He caught her, so easy in dreams.

He spun with her, against her body, his body blending into her, holding her as close as two can be without merging, his outstretched hands holding hers, their feet not touching the sand. Exhilarating spirals that made Hope gasp and Dreamweaver was caught up in her excitement. Her hair flew with the wind and lifted from her neck. A neck that invited with its vitality and pure beauty, his lips.

They slowed as his mouth traced a path from her neck to her ear, “Hope...” His hands slid from her hands, down her arms, caressing and warm in the cool ocean breeze. His hands closed around her waist, splaying open intimately, a caress as a lover.

“Tell me your dreams Hope...”

Hope laughed softly as they spun, her eyes closing. She was floating... on cloud 9, there like this. In that moment, she was quite certain there was nothing that could possibly be better than that feeling. Nothing that could top that moment. And then his lips found her neck and she realized that she was horribly, horribly wrong.

His body pressed to hers and she slid her arms around him slowly, pressing closer still, holding him to the soft, supple curves of her petite body. Dreams? He'd asked about dreams?

Well... this was a dream, wasn't it? He wasn't real... just a figment of her imagination. So it was alright to speak the truth, wasn't it? Her head came to rest on his shoulder and she smiled, nuzzling in close to his warmth as the cool breeze whipped around them.

"I want... love. To be loved. I want to know what it feels like," she said in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. "I want security. I want to feel safe. I want to be free."

Hope's Dream

Love. The dream.

Usually so different in the cold light of day. Unless one found that special one that made life so lovely.

She moved Dreamweaver, how could she not? As a being caught between the waking and sleeping world and always destined to be the facilitator of dreams, not the object.

It made him yearn to be mortal again. To dream his own dreams. If he could find one that would take the his duty. He’d had a good run. It was time to begin his search.

Hope, this woman, wanted love, security, and freedom. Freedom from the nightmare? What freedom? Every dream told to Dreamweaver and each slightly different. Humans for the most part wanted the same thing. A deep connection that proved they were alive and that they mattered in the great scheme of things, if only to one other.

He held the girl, more tightly than he should perhaps, as he felt the same need. But he wasn’t human and couldn’t be the answer to her dreams. No matter how he yearned.

He kissed her soft mouth with these dream lips, feeling her response and his own, a pulse that sang through his dream body as much as it ever had when he was a human. “Come see me, Hope.” He let the kiss fade and his arm dissolve, until she could only hear his voice. “We’ll find your love.”

She slept.

As gently as if she'd been laid down on a bed of goose feathers, Hope found herself cradled back into the warm embrace of sleep. For a long while she simply drifted there, content and feeling as if his arms were still around her... his lips still on her own.

It wasn't until her eyes opened to a bright new dawn that she realized it had been but a dream. But what a wonderful dream! She had to find a way to find that dream man again. She had to be with him... even if it was only in sleep, she felt like that was where she belonged... In a pair of warm, protective, loving arms.

~*~*~*~*~

The next night, Hope dreamed again. But it was not rape, nor fear that came to her. Instead, it was desperation. She found her way in her dream back to that beach she and her dream lover had been on. Standing on the rocks, she stared out over the vast expanse of the sea. The wind whipped at her hair, her skirt... Longing filled her.

Longing. Desire. Need.

She needed that feeling again... when her days were so empty... so cold...

The shrill of a train whistle made her turn, and there... in the distance, crossing the lush grass that had been there the night before... was a train track. Lifting her skirts, she walked barefoot across the grass, feeling the cool blades tickle her toes.

He said to come see him... The train had to be the answer... it had to be.

Fog hung low and heavy around the building when she finally reached it, stretching as far as the eye could see. She couldn't make out the beach any longer... had no idea how far she'd walked.

Stepping onto the platform, she searched her cloudy surroundings, squinting and straining her eyes. "Hello?"

Davids dream

Those eyes promised fulfillment. "Come to me David...."

David didn’t really see her, not with his eyes at least but he sensed her presence and he knew the voice came from a woman, the very essence of her flowed through the mist more like a scent or a feeling than a vision. He wanted more and he saw the door open now and inviting him along with the voice to go. He remained motionless but he saw himself rise up off the bench and as his form moved through the door he watched his clothes fall from his body and a white translucient robe fall around his shoulders and wrap itself around his waist. He felt the soft cloth, the warmth and heard again, the voice "Come to me David...."

He felt the warm sand under his feet and felt the gentle breeze against his brow. It was if he was walking on air and when he looked down he knew that he was. He stopped walking and yet in his mind he kept moving up and ahead toward the voice.. he was closer now he could feel the woman’s presence with more intensity, as if she were along side of him moving through the mist with him. “Take me." heard himself say show me how to fly." With you I know I can feel the joy of being completely free and unencumbered by the limits of my beliefs.

He felt her hand in his and then he saw her image as if her touch allowed him to see her as a woman. “Yes.” he said and marveled at her beauty. She wore the same white transkucient robe as he did and her bodies outline glowed underneath, revealing the details of her shoulders the cleft of her throat, her neck and the valley between her breasts. Her breasts pressed against the gossamer cloth that accented rather than hid the round found firm outline of each precious globe. Two distinct points of rigid flesh threatened to poke their way through the thin cloth. Below the robe flowed around her waist and flared out for her hips and thighs. A dark mysterious mound of flesh hovered above a triangle of light between her thighs.

David sucked in his breath he looked into her unwavering eyes and knew that she would make this dream of flight one he would never forget.

David's dream...


But David? She sensed a streak of playful jejune, not so much naive as a willingness to embrace and revel in fantasies. Each one of her dreamers, that were pure in intent, she loved. Even those that were conflicted and wary. But David, dear David, had his eyes wide open, in wonder, in curiosity. He’d see her as his dream, whatever she would look like for him. She could be that in dreams. Sometimes it tore her heart as she felt the dreams of people, unrealistic, sallow, selfish. But every being has a selfish streak, she did... She was fighting envy every day, with every dream.

But his dream, yes, now to his...

“Yes.” His answer sang through the body he'd given me.

My hand in his, I let him see me exactly as he wanted. I smiled at his look and felt joy that he would take a step so many were afraid to dare.

“Close your eyes, David.” I whispered as I faced him. Our robes flirted around our legs to wrap us in a silken embrace, drawing the two of us together, just touching. The air, fresh and clean, scrubbed free of earthly pollutants, and we breathe deeply, his chest moving against mine.

I took us up, and as we moved his body quivered as though this was a defining moment, a long held, often wished for, but impossible dream.

I felt it with him, every enchanting thrill. “Open your eyes, David.” My lips almost touched his as I implored him to gaze out. Would he be filled with delicious fascination or be afraid? I sensed no fear as he opened his eyes. I’d taken us high, to an impossibly high cliff, where gossamer clouds caressed our faces with damp refreshment. Salt air, fresh and invigorating coated our nostrils and the surf, impossible to hear at this altitude still pulsed in our veins.

“Tell me what you see...” I embraced him, much like the clouds, softly but with delicious heat that countered the coolness of the foggy mist that frolicked around us like dancing dew.

Dan was in front of the mirror again. Practicing what he was going to say to her. He had it pretty much down. He pushed his glasses back up as he tried once more.

" Hello Melanie, I'm Dan . I live next door to you. I really like you and would love to get to know more about you. Would you like to go out sometime ?"

He sounded confident and calm, like he had done this hundreds of times before. Even though he looked like a nerd with his short black hair, thick glasses, and freckled face. Finally, taking a rose lying beside the dresser he walks out.

He's directly in front of her house now, the path that he took here missing. Only her house exists, floating in the void. There is no ground beneath his feet, only empty space. The darkness extends outwards from her house, tendrils of it probing at the building's fringes.

He rings the doorbell and immediately the door opens. She is standing there, in the clothes she always wears around the nighbourhood. In the clothes he had seen her most in. In the clothes that he had fallen in love with her. Her long blond hair cascade down to her waist, framing her beautiful baby face. Her eyes are deep black, like the darkness that surrounds the house. He doesnt think it odd that the whites of her eyes are missing .

She is absolutely gorgeous, no doubt, and that may be one of the reasons he had fallen for her. Because even though he was all confident and charming in his bedroom, in front of a girl his brain clamped shut, refusing to make up coherent sentences. So he had never had a girlfriend before, heck he hadnt even had a long conversation with one of them since puberty.

She raised her eyebrows at him, and he started to sweat. He went down on one knee and offered her the rose, blabbering the rote lines, so well rehearsed and so well written, making a mess of it. He daren't look into her eyes, for fear of getting lost in them, or for fear of seeing the darkness that had replaced her lovely blue eyes. He felt the rose leave his hand, and his heart leapt with joy. Only to be crushed into a million pieces as the rose petals fell on his head, crushed and mutilated like his heart. He looked up and saw the words flying out of her mouth. The exact words, the fear of which , had kept him for approaching her much before. Calling him a nerdy geek, a creep and much worse. Laughing at his audacity to even have the thought that she could want him.

Dan turned and ran, running towards the darkness, trying to escape from the dream which had turned into a nightmare.

Dan's Dream

Even in slumber, where dreams can be fulfilling, insightful, erotic and inspiring, people must drag their waking inadequacies real or imagined, along with them.

Dreamweaver always wept for the lonely. Those that only wanted human contact and affection. She wished many times, that there were no need for her, that people would rise above the cruelty. But their base nature never changed, not in the time she’d been Dreamweaver.

Dan? Another shunned and frightened man. The imperfections in each of the people she visited were cause for her love and regard. The majority of them wanted to go about their life, confident they’d made their mark on someone...

She wondered what would be best for him. To bring him from his nightmare, should she soothe and relax or perhaps... something a bit different.

It wasn’t often she didn’t allow the dreamer to make her in whatever image they gave her. In her many years, she’d been every manner of person, fish or fowl. Plants. She’d even been a talking codpiece. That was a crazy dream to be sure. So, maybe just maybe, she could help two together?



Dan ran from his taunting Melanie. He ran into the dark until he noticed the soft gray glow. Dreamweaver took the image of Melanie, a not exact image, but enough to provide a deja vu, a intimation of a memory.. In helping them both, together, perhaps they’d find happiness together. As was said by a sage of old...’Hope is a waking dream.’ ~ Aristotle. She could bring them together but it would take some time.

She appeared as Dan’s frantic plunge into darkness was arrested as he noticed the gray, the calm that began to surround him.

Dreamweaver brought a soothing hand to his sweaty bow and caressed him, eased the lines from his forehead, quieted his dreaming soul. When his breathing became less labored, and he really looked at her, seeing her, she stepped close, and leaned toward him, whispering, “Here, she comes...”

She then spoke from behind him, “Here I am...” He jumped and turned to the sound. Her voice was an echo of Melanie's.

She stepped close again, rubbing her cheek against his to whisper, “Come to me, Dan.” She stepped inside him, flooding him with warmth. “You know where to find me.....” The words echoed in his head as she led him to a happier place.

David's Dream

“It’s beautiful.” David said softly as he looked out of over the ocean, the sun was rising over the calm waters that gently lapped at the beach from here he could see far below the surface where colorful fish at the edge of a coral reef swam leisurely in the crystal clear water. In the distance the water followed the curve of the earth and beyond that curve the sun was rising promising a new day ahead. David closed his eyes for a moment immersing in the feeling of liquid warmth himself as ifto ensure this scene would remain somewhere tucked in his brain for the rest of his life. As he did he took a deep breath and held it and then letting it out slowly brought his legs up and crossed them sitting in a lotus position. His hands reaching out and his next vision was of a feeling of living warmth coming into his arms, the image the dream weaver had created for him, a woman his flying companion. Her white robe fluttered in the breeze and the tie that held it in place around her body slowly untied itself. Her long blonde hair fell from where it was tied up on the back of her head and spilled out around her shoulders and below to enhance the beauty of her breasts. David was in the middle of drawing in his breath and held it there while she moved closer her legs raising the same as his but instead of crossing extended out around his body and gently clasped him from behind. He caught the scent of her arousal, the musky aroma that told him she wanted to be closer still. She waited just inches above and in front of his body. As he let out his breath he felt his energy flowing from his chest to the center of his groin where it rose up with his erection filling the veins and arteries with the tumescence of his need.

Sweet and wonderful was the next immersion as he felt the warmth and liquid softness flow around his upright shaft and the woman cross her ankles behind his back and her body cushion itself in his lap. So sweet and wonderful that for a moment David forgot to breath, focusing instead on the place where they were so deliciously united. When he did breathe, he exhaled, pushing his energy deeper still into the depths of their connection. His next inward breath coincided with a slow and sensuous withdrawal until just the tip of his hardened shaft pulsed against her muscled entrance. He heard her moan and her inward breath sucked him inside again at the same time as he exhaled a moan and slowly filled her up again.

In this way they celebrated the immersion of the ocean below and the opening sky beyond joining the sunrise in honor of a new day about to be born.

Dan's Dream

Dan waited, wishing to feel the presence again. It looked like Melanie, but it couldn't be. It was her voice, but it wasn't possible that it would call out to him. He felt confused and glad at the same time. As she moved close and then disappeared inside him, the darkness around him began to dissolve. He could slowly see definite shapes now, like he had just come inside from looking at the sun directly. He could see a white wall, a small rectangle against it? He found himself walking towards it, until it eventually formed into a dustbin.

Grinning at himself sheepishly, Dan turned his head around. It was a train station. NO. It was the train station. The one where he would go everyday. The one where he stood every single day for an hour, missing 3 trains, just so that he could catch a look of Melanie before she boarded hers. Hoping that she would notice him. Someday she might, thats what he kept telling himself.

He looked around. The station was completely empty. He should have been bothered about the missing people, but somehow, he wasn't. He instinctively knew that it was his train when it rolled in. But he just stood there ignoring it, as it closed its doors and left. Maybe it was a force of habit, or maybe fate. But she had told him to find her. Two more trains came and left. And when the third one, Her train came in he was ready. He immediately got on and waited, not knowing how he had known that this was the right way, but just that it was.

David's Dream

If dreams were an aspect of God, then they are as real as life, part of life. Without dreaming, humans - frail, fragile beings - died.

If one thought dreams were electrical stimuli, the brain's way of categorizing and regulating memory - were not all feelings and thoughts electrical impulses as well?

A dream can be as real as any other experience. It can leave one breathless and giddy.

Or terrified and alone.

The sigh of the Dreamweaver was one of passion long denied. She found herself captive in the dream she fashioned for another. Her life lived so long in the realm of Hypnos, lived only within the dreams of others through their dreams, she hungered for her own. She needed to touch, taste, feel the reality of this dream. To make some small part of it her own.

In joining with David, the David that soared so in his dreams, Dreamweaver took a more bold step, allowing herself to revel in a mortal dream. To partake and savor these precious moments of dizzying pleasures and ardent longing.

As they dreamed, she and David, the sunrise broke to stretch long warm yellow and orange rays to either end of their world. Warm glowing shafts of beautiful color that celebrated the coupling, the union they shared.

As they blended and merged they were transported on mere cosmic motes, meeting the clouds, then the earth was far below. Now they were in a place where a night sky shone always.

She arched into him, taking him fully into her body, again and again as they danced near the stars.

Hope's Dream - Dan's Dream

Would it work? Could Dreamweaver bring about a meeting of others in dreams? She could. It took effort, but she could. She'd been in both dreams, of Hope and Dan and would weave a dream for them.

He'd be her Adonis, her dream lover. One that cared deeply about those around him, not wishing to harm anyone. A lover with concern and able to share as Dan could.

She'd be his Melanie, surely not the surly and shallow woman he knew in the waking world but the lovely Hope, with all her charm and wistful grace. They needed each other, whether the dream was enough to bring them together in real life, who knew?

When they figured out there were things beyond a person's facade, the face everyone presents to the world, perhaps they'd realize they belonged together.
------

Melanie/Hope were already on the train when Dan stepped aboard.


Dreamweaver set the circumstance. Could they direct their own dreams?

David"s Dream

David had never flown so high before always remaining in sight of the earth below but now as he was uniquely melding together with a lover whose presence was a reality far beyond beyond the scope of his imagination, he knew he had found his bliss, discovered the joy that most men only hope for and few experience. He longed to dance among the stars, Join his lover in the primal celebration of mating, feeling the energy of this vast universe pulse with each stroke, each caress, each combined effort to fill and be filled.

Higher and higher they rose, deeper and deeper they plunged until the reached the center, a place of total darkness, the place where neither time nor space nor matter existed. Pure energy exploded in and around them, as together they became one and by doing so made the stars light up again and time and space return as they floated softly earth ward.

Would David dream again? Would the Dreamweaver bring him a partner or would she become his lover again?

Surely after this dream he couldn’t help but return but it would be some time before he did. The after glow of this tumultuous experience would last in his mind as he recalled this momentuous occasion again and again.

He knew Dreamweaver would be there for him when the time was right for him to dream again.