Making Dreams Come True

Rylee considered herself a white witch, but it wasn't something she took terribly seriously, unless pressed. Most days, for her being witch simply meant meditating, putting good vibes out into the world and then going to work and living like most everyone else. Occasionally, she would do actual ceremonies or cast specific spells from the internet. Spells to receive money, luck or have a certain handsome man fall in love with her, nothing too complex.

When she moved into a new apartment in an old building with a mere six apartments in it, she did a smudge ceremony to cleanse the space and she asked the spirits of the land permission to work her small spells there. When she didn't feel any spiritual resistance to her request, she settled in and set protection spells on her space and when everything was ready set up a small alter.

The small table dedicated to her practise was packed with incense, crystals and the trappings of the craft. A circled pentagram to represent the earth, a bronze chalice with water in it, incense for air, a candle for fire, an offering of salt and herbs in tiny, beautiful, ceramic bowls all set aesthetically on a woven cloth decorated with moons stars and the sun smiling in the centre. Various meaningful gewgaws and a sheathed knife filled the spaces between the ritual items in an artful clutter she spent a lot of time getting just right.

Practising her witchcraft the way a casual yoga practitioner uses words like chakra, namaste and the words of the practise with little understanding of the true history or meaning, Rylee was a fair weather witch. Since she didn't identify with traditional religions and didn't enjoy those communities in general, yet still had a longing for spiritual meaning in her life, she gravitated to new age witchcraft that had little practical structure, no formal meetings and a much kinder community, in her experience.

When she finished setting up her alter and did a ritual to awaken it in her new space, she did a taro reading and went to bed feeling pleased to have her new home fully set up now that her alter was in place.

That night, Rylee's dreams were chaotic and graphic. Sex infiltrated every dream she had and, in the morning, she awoke so horny she needed to masturbate before crawling out of bed to start her day. As she rubbed herself, she saw multiple images and couldn't discipline her mind to fantasize about the man at work she had a crush on as she wanted. Instead, faces and bodies flashed across her mind in a maelstrom of images. In spite of having no focus, her body demanded she continue rubbing her burning clit until she climaxed, which took ages, leaving her in a frustrated, sweaty heap after spending too long struggling to cum.

Rushing through a shower, she tried again, her body tingling as she cleansed herself, her hands eliciting arousal as she soaped herself. Craving an orgasm, she couldn't focus on a situation, or single person. Faces from her past, faces she didn't know, both men and woman flitted across her mind's eye never remaining long enough to build an erotic fantasy around.

Forcing herself to quit, she got out of the shower with little time to catch the subway to work on schedule. Scrambling to get ready, she felt warm, flushed and sexually frustrated. Slipping a simple summer dress and panties on, the slender, small breasted woman glanced at herself in the mirror, silently asking if she were actually going to work like that.

The vision in the mirror with a dark mass of curly hair tangled in a damp, unruly cascade over thin shoulders and around a petite neck showed far more skin than usual. The dress she wore was one she always wore a t-shirt under because the neckline plunged low between her breasts showing her sternum, the spaghetti-straps over her shoulders exposed collar bones in front and shoulder blades behind, the back opening even deeper than the front. The arm holes also cut away lower than she would normally bare, her sides visible lower than the bottom of her breasts on both sides. A bustier woman would be spilling out of such a dress, but Rylee's small A cup breasts could only be seen if she leaned forward, but, if she bent far enough, an entire breast would be visible.

For a reason she couldn't fathom, in her haste, she decided it was fine to go to work as a pharmacist dressed like she was going to the beach. Justifying it by telling herself she would be wearing her lab coat over the dress, she rushed out the door. Casual flats on her feet, a tiny wallet purse over one slim shoulder and the frantic woman sped out the door, locking it behind herself. Running down the stairs to the front of the small building, her bright green eyes flashed with anxiety about making her train.

As she exited the front of the building, a familiar delivery man called out for her to hold the door. Normally she wouldn't have done it, but she'd already had a pair of pleasant encounters with him while he delivered to the older woman who lived next door to Rylee. Knowing he was safe, the pretty pharmacist held the door for him. As he passed inside, his hand brushed hers where she held the door. It was a glancing connection, over in less than a second, but the connection they made was profound and powerful.

Abruptly, Rylee's mind was hijacked completely. Submerged utterly into a dream-state, the confused woman suddenly found herself within a kaleidoscopic dreamscape where the room she appeared in constantly altered. The walls pulsed, changing colour, the floor throbbing and changing texture, the light flickering from the ceiling and lamps around the room that was momentarily a bedroom, then a living room, then a kitchen, changing every few heartbeats.

With the certainty that comes while dreaming, Rylee knew she was inside the delivery man's fantasy. There he was, before her, a woman sitting on a shifting object, sometimes a sofa, bed, or table. The woman's face was indistinct, morphing from one person to another. Rylee didn't know any of the women, but the driver did and his knowledge informed her as they shimmered from woman to woman. The driver was on his knees, his face buried between the thighs of the women, obviously performing oral sex on them as all the woman were in the throes of ecstasy.

Immediately aroused, Rylee felt a symbiotic connection with the delivery man, his passion her own, his desires hers and how he felt about each woman interlaced with memory, as if she knew them. Unbalanced by the intensity of suddenly feeling so many foreign sensations, Rylee held still, struggling to maintain separation from the man.

Intuiting that she was somehow sharing his sexual fantasies, Rylee observed, unable to do anything about what was happening to her.

The man took great delight in performing oral sex on his lovers. The women were past partners and women he wished he could be with shuffled together in a jumble as his brain spat out images. Some were dressed, because he didn't have memories of their nudity, but many were exposed, Rylee abruptly intimately familiar with their bodies, their taste, the heat and softness of them. Knowing what it felt like to run a tongue over their clits, Rylee shared his pleasure at the sensation, the thrill of being intimate with another person, the joy he took in providing orgasms. Caught in the cascade of sensation and emotions the delivery man experienced while dreaming of sex, Rylee absorbed it all without knowing how to stop, slow or stem the flow.

A straight, cis woman, Rylee had never been with a woman, but having the man's passion for eating pussy inserted into her mind unexpectedly somehow implanted all the positive connotations the delivery driver had about going down on a woman into Rylee. Without warning, the previously heterosexual woman was filled with the driver's infatuation with eating out women. The previous repulsion Rylee felt about the idea of licking a vagina instantly shared space with the man's excitement about it.

Then it was over and she was still standing at the door, the uniformed man she'd just been inside of stepping into her building, the door closing behind him. Carrying on with the step she'd been taking, Rylee almost stumbled, but habit carried her forward as her subconscious proprioception took over walking for her. While it did, the rest of her brain processed a deluge of new information.

Utterly confused as to what had just happened to her, Rylee walked in a daze, automatically going to work, but inwardly focused on seeking answers to how that had happened, why it had happened and what she should do about it. Beneath the confusion and worry, keen, insistent arousal thrummed in her body as her subconscious reconciled the erotic memories it had so swiftly uploaded.

How had she suddenly found herself inside the man's dream?

That she had been inside his dream was without question as far as the young pharmacist was concerned. The images and people involved had no place in her head and yet there they were. Why that had happened to her for the first time on that particular day over her twenty six years eluded her. Would she need to do anything about it? That depended on whether it ever happened again.

As she got onto the train, a woman bumped against Rylee, the bare parts of their arms touching as they stepped forward side by side and once again Rylee found herself deep inside another person's dream.

The middle-aged woman looked like a professional in a tailored suit, salon styled hair, excellent make-up, amazing shoes and a look of powerful confidence, but in her dream she was submissive tied to a bed, a rack, or on her knees in a dizzying collage of perversion. A vanilla lover, Rylee was skittish about pain and hated being held down, but the woman whose dream Rylee had just entered loved being dominated and tied up. The intense need the strange woman had to be submissive during sex infiltrated Rylee insidiously. Sharing the woman's wants and desires, Rylee empathized with a woman who exercised extreme control and dominance in her work life needing to discharge all that rigidity by relinquishing it to a worthy lover.

As the woman's dreams of being whipped or burned with wax flowed into Rylee, she experienced years of sexual submission in an instant. The stranger delighted in having her throat fucked by a big cock, her air being denied by the thick manhood, her hair pulled as she was face fucked and whether she wanted to or not, Rylee abruptly shared each of those desires. Dozens upon dozens of lecherous fantasies flooded Rylee and her libido erupted with empathetic reaction to the rapture the older woman felt when being dominated by a cherished lover.

Then the skin contact ended and Rylee was released from the erotic assault.

The other woman briefly made eye contact with Rylee, a glimmer of acknowledgement that something had passed between them, but Rylee felt as if she intimately knew and understood the strange woman whose name she didn't know.

Ever more aroused than before, the anguished young woman, cowered in a corner of the train car trying not to touch anyone, hyper-vigilant that she wore a skimpy summer dress that left much of her flesh exposed. When she'd woken up, she'd been inconsolably horny, but after having the desires of two other people heaped on top of her own tripled how desperately she yearned for sexual contact. Images of going down on a woman, or sucking a cock filled her brain. The lash of a whip, or the smooth caress of a feminine thigh floated across her minds eye in disturbing clarity as she willed the people on her train car to leave before her stop.

The journey from where she huddled in a corner to getting off the train onto the platform took less than fifteen seconds, covering thirty feet or less, but to Rylee it took an eternity of being touched, brushed and pressed against by the surging crowd. Even if she weren't an attractive young woman, her skimpy dress drew more accidental hands to her bared flesh than might have otherwise made contact on a normal day.

A barrage of perversions, fetishes and kinks assaulted her senses as she absorbed the sexual fantasies of every person she made skin to skin contact with while exiting the train. It felt like an eternity as she fully comprehend each and every persons desires, memories and fantasies around sex and sexuality. Seven full, human sexualites infiltrated her mind in rapid succession, each taking only a fraction of a second, but to her it felt like a lifetime, because she was uploading a lifetime of experiences.

When the train pulled away, Rylee knelt on the platform overwhelmed by so much information coming in at once. Shuddering and quivering with the pulsing desires of ten people surging beneath her skin, the poor woman wept with frustration that she couldn't get to work, stop what was happening or discharge the vast arousal she felt throbbing beneath her exposed flesh.

When a kind man offered a hand to help her up, she recoiled so violently he yelped. Scrambling away from him, Rylee stumbled to a run and fled the packed train station doing strange gyrations to avoid contacting any other people.

When she saw a public restroom near the entrance to the station, Rylee escaped the crowd by locking herself in a stall. Feeling frantic and sweaty, she sat on the toilet and put her head in her hands to weep. Vibrating with potential climactic energy, she cried as her mind swam with hundreds of images of sexual encounters she'd just witnessed while getting off the train. Pulling down her panties and pulling up her dress, she stripped naked and began to masturbate with an animal moan.

With so many fantasies floating through her mind, she was able to cum immediately, but once she started she couldn't stop. Both hands rubbed and caressed her body desperately, her burning clit demanding constant attention, but so did both nipples and her mouth. So many visions of oral sex, of licking and sucking genitals of all shapes and sizes made her crave oral stimulation just about as keenly as her clitoris demanded attention.

The buzz of her cell phone ringing broke the spell her body was under.

"Hello?" she panted into the receiver when she answered.

Sitting naked in the stall, dripping sweat, her pussy leaking fluid, she couldn't tell how long she'd been there.

"Rylee? Are you ok?"

It was her co-worker Tyler. Her crush. The sound of his voice sent a surge of lust along every nerve that robbed her of reason. Fiercely needing him to be inside her immediately, her fingers danced over her sex, her eyes closed as she climaxed, panting as he repeated 'hello?" over and over.

"Hi. Sorry. Having a bit of a moment" she manged to say as her body contracted in climax just from the sound of his voice.

One of the woman she'd touched during her exit from the train loved having phone sex and that woman's memory of cumming while on the phone ignited an orgasm in Rylee's body.

"Are you coming to work? Are you feeling ok?"

As he spoke, the sound of his voice prolonged her climax, fingers rubbing her clit with a will of their own.

"I'm cumming!" She wailed.

"Oh, um... ok... just checking."

"Oh god I'm cuuuumming!"

Helpless to hold back, she moaned into the phone, her passion clutching her in its insistent grip. For several seconds there was silence on the other end of the phone while Rylee panted and gasped through a climax. Holding the phone away from her mouth, she listened for his voice desperate for more stimulation while she masturbated.

"Ok. See you soon..." his voice was distant and unusual, but it still enticed her libido and she carried on cumming while he hung up.

When she could control herself once again, she dressed, her sensitive vulva resenting the cloth of her panties, her tender nipples irritated by the dress. It didn't take long to get to her pharmacy, but Rylee felt like she'd climbed a mountain by the time she arrived. Sweaty, spent and out of sorts from her bizarre morning, she looked at herself in the mirrored glass of the window to the pharmacy. Dishevelled and wild looking, she was showing far too much skin, but she looked powerfully appealing to her eye. With the male gaze now firmly implanted in her mind by the half dozen men she'd absorbed the fantasies of, she saw a highly desirable woman who looked freshly fucked staring back at her. The skimpy summer dress showed enough to reveal how sexy her body was, while hiding enough to make one curious. In her highly aroused state, Rylee thought she looked impossibly desirable.

Bracing herself, she finger combed her tussled, ebony locks and wiped shaking hands over her flushed face, then she entered the pharmacy. Doing her level best not to appear like a raving nymphomaniac, Rylee waved to everyone as she entered and proceeded to the pharmacy in the rear of the store. The looks she got informed her that not only was her dress inappropriate, but that word had spread she was late.

Looking concerned, Tyler nodded to her as he dealt with a client and she darted into the back office to get her lab coat and clock in. Seeing his handsome, square face, dark eyes full of worry, his groomed, brown hair neat and tidy the way he liked it, she found him irresistible. Before the strange dream transference began happening to her, she already found Tyler attractive, but infused with the lusts of four other women, Rylee found the solidly built, athletic pharmacist unbearably handsome.

Consciously doing her best not to touch him, Rylee greeted Tyler and got to work. Distracted by her strange predicament and all the churning desires she had inherited from the people she'd touched that day, Rylee struggled to focus on her tasks, but discipline won out.

Having only been working at the pharmacy for a few weeks, she still needed guidance on many things, and the only other person working was Tyler. Pleased to discover his eyes drifting down her jacket to where her dress bared much more skin that she usually revealed, she found herself openly flirting with him. The skills she used to flirt with had arrived with the dreams of the people she touched. Many of them were more aggressive sexually than she was and their confidence and stronger impulse toward sexuality informed her behaviour.

Watching herself behave with far more confidence that she was accustomed to, Rylee found her new seduction tools fascinating. The way she stood when speaking to him was more provocative, but not overt. The things she said had an arch, flirtatious quality that could be interpreted as jokes or blatant offers, a way of speaking previously unknown to the introverted woman.

For his part, Tyler seemed confused at first, but quickly adapted to her new personality. Blushing and demurring, he fenced with her, doing his best to keep things professional, but smirking at her attempts to engage him in sexy banter. The game of it pleased her far more than ever before. The new memories she held of similar exchanges informed her that Tyler found her attractive, the invasive memories in her head gave her confidence that the other pharmacist wanted her.

That suspicion was confirmed when he placed his hand over hers to stop her from taking a piece of paper he'd left on a counter.

"I've got that" he had time to say before she was inserted into his sexual fantasy.

The visuals of the pharmacy wavered and the light shimmered as the space became dream like. Once again the world around her grew indistinct, the details unstable, the specifics dynamic. Remaining at work, the space shifted moods along with the memories Tyler had of the place. The man in question stood in the centre of the pharmacy, or sometimes in the shelves of pills, or alternately was sitting in the office chair in the back, Rylee's perspective changed along with his. For the most part he was naked, but periodically he wore clothes, or just his lab coat.

The one constant in the fantasy was the presence of Rylee herself, a vision of her on her knees, her face buried in his groin, her mouth working over his penis. Stunned by how much she felt his desire for her flowing from her connection to his dream, Rylee was confused by the powerful attraction she suddenly had for herself. Seeing herself in his eyes, she saw a majestic creature of flashing green eyes, a wild mane of glorious, shimmering dark hair and alabaster skin of such creamy, unblemished perfection it made his/her chest ache.

The yearning she felt for her own mouth made her burn. The ecstasy she suddenly shared with Tyler from feeling Dream Rylee's mouth sucking his cock burned hotly in her groin. In the dream, Tyler fucked her mouth slowly, gently, in awe of her willingness to do that for him.

The many other mouths he'd felt his cock inside of informed the sensations he imagined Dream Rylee giving him. The Real Rylee shared every sensation with him, numerous tongues tickling their skin, the wet heat engulfing their genitals gloriously. Titillated by the keen memories, disoriented by it being her image kneeling before him, Rylee's own, fainter memories of sucking cock teased her mouth with pleasant memories while her genitals tingled with distant recollections of tongues exploring her vulva.

With the assurance of dream logic, Rylee understood she could participate in these dreams and influence things. Stepping forward, the heavy, limbless sensation of trying to move in a dream smothered her. Fighting the incredible weight she felt, the horny woman strove to reach Tyler and her other self. Although the pair were only inches away the gulf between felt insurmountable.

Then Rylee stopped and remained floating just out of reach. Seeking a way to overcome the separation between herself and the dream version of herself, Rylee relaxed and lucid dreamed. Imagining herself in the place of that other Rylee, the young woman visualized being on her knees sucking Tyler's beautiful, but unknown manhood. As the fantasy grew more distinct, she felt the sensations of her vision more acutely. Methodically cataloguing each sensation she should feel, she imagined being that other version of herself and bit by bit the various elements coalesced.

Abruptly everything became much more real. The scenery continued morphing and shifting, but Tyler himself became perfectly real, the cock in her mouth warm, hard, wet and very present. Looking up at him from her knees, Tyler's face no longer swirled and adjusted with a hazy dreamlike quality, but remained his own, sweet, kind visage.

The erection in her mouth twitched, feeling perfectly corporeal. Using both hands to caress him, she cupped his testicles, stroked his shaft and swirled her tongue around his knob as her lips moved back and forth over the first few inches of his pole. The other minds that had invaded hers instructed her how to make this blowjob spectacular. Slowly lapping him with her tongue, she made eye-contact with the man who looked stunned to be receiving her attention.

The look on his face and the link they shared informed her that Tyler was somehow experiencing the same hyper-real sexual fantasy she was.

"What is happening...?"

"You're having a fantasy."

Rylee paused sucking his cock long enough to speak, then resumed exploring his erection with her mouth, experiencing every sensation she would have expected if she were actually sucking him.

"But... it's so real..."

"I know. Its great!"

Grinning up at him from her knees, Rylee jacked him off and massaged his scrotum.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" she asked, then took his knob back into her mouth while she listened to his response.

"Ever since our first shift together."

The warm rush of lust she felt coming from him as he remembered meeting her for the first time thrilled along her nerves as she caressed his shaft with her tongue.

"Whoa! I can tell how much you liked hearing that" he gushed.

"I did."

"I can feel everything you're feeling."

"I can feel you too."

"Wait. Are you really here?"

"What do you think?" Sucking a testicle into her mouth, she slurped on it while stroking his shaft with both hands.

"Holy fuck that feels great!" he enthused. "I've never had a dream like this before."

"Me either!"

"I think I'm gonna cum."

"Yes please!"

"Wow! You really want it. I can tell!"

Searching her feelings, Rylee appreciated that she did in fact want him to fill her mouth with his sperm. The memories of doing that she shared with the other women made it seem even more thrilling than her own recollections of having a man cum in her mouth did, and she'd always found it pleasant, if not her favourite.

As Tyler spilled himself and her mouth filled with powerful, chemical favours, Rylee began to climax, her fingers rubbing her clit vigorously. The high level of arousal she'd felt throughout the day impelled her to climax, but it grew more intense because she was sharing Tyler's orgasm along the link between them. Having two orgasm at once, the pair of them cried out their passion, both exploding in tandem, the intensity more than either had ever known.

Their orgasms were so powerful, they both awoke and found themselves standing in the pharmacy, his hand over hers, she holding the paper he wanted.

Wild, frantic eyes met, two brains interrupted mid-orgasm. The powerful sensation of cumming filled both bodies, even though neither were actually touching themselves or each other beyond that tiny brush of flesh. Panting with the intensity of her reaction, Rylee still found it a great relief to see Tyler struggling to recover as well.

That meant it wasn't all just in her head.

"What the fuck?!" Tyler exclaimed, looking down at her and stepping away. "Whoa. I apologize, I don't know what just happened."

When he moved, he looked further down at his own crotch with a look of disgust. Pinching his pants, Tyler pulled part of his crotch away from his groin as if something had spilled on him.

"The hell...?" he muttered.

For her part, Rylee's mouth tasted like sperm, her pussy was dripping wet, she was dizzy and disorientated.

"Uh..." she began, but he looked mortified and scuttled away.

"Be right back. Sorry."

For several moments, she was alone in the pharmacy, her tingling sex wet and irritated she wasn't getting what she wanted. Savouring the flavour of cum- something she hadn't been particularly fond of before gaining the memories and context of other people's experiences- Rylee served several customers before Tyler returned wearing different pants, his dark slacks replaced with worn blue jeans.

For the next hour, Tyler wouldn't look directly at Rylee, but each time she glanced at him, he was looking at her. Smiling to soften what had happened, she attempted to flirt again, but Tyler was very disturbed by cumming in his pants, as far as Rylee could tell.

Still unable to stop thinking about sex, her body frustrated that all the action was happening in her head, Rylee flirted with customers, male and female alike, but avoided touching anyone at all. Vibrating on a whole new level, the pretty pharmacist radiated sexuality and the people around her picked up on it. Even the disapproving ones couldn't take their eyes off her. The more attention she got, the more she wanted to be looked at. At least three people she had touched that day had been exhibitionists, so Rylee now got a thrill when she caught someone watching her, trying to look down her jacket, or up her short dress.

Normally quite shy, Rylee was disturbed by how much some of her new memories inspired her to show off her body. Normally self-conscious about how skinny she was, Rylee found herself seeing herself through Tyler's eyes now that she could draw on his memories of how sexy he thought she was. To Tyler, Rylee was petite, delicate and delectable.

The lithe, coltish legs she was baring for the first time in front of him were slender, shapely and smooth. To Tyler, she appeared to have toned, fit legs like a dancer, but Rylee knew it had been ten years since she'd danced. Seeing her body through his eyes, her tiny waists making him desire her, small breasts compelling in their pert, plump ripeness re-calibrated her mind regarding her body.

The man's memories of her were quite detailed. It seemed in the few weeks they had worked together that Tyler had memorized every detail of her body as they interacted. The complete picture in his mind's eye was rather close to reality. Since she could feel the emotions he felt when he looked at her, Rylee wasn't totally disturbed by his lust for her body. A small part of her was intimidated by the intensity of his desire, but by far the greater part of herself was delighted the handsome pharmacist wanted her so badly.

Armed with that knowledge Rylee felt much more confident with Tyler. The influence of the new memories of sexual conquests she'd gained from the eleven people she had absorbed gave her the courage to be bold with Tyler. Before long he was bantering once more, his embarrassment burned away under the sunshine of her approval.

While they worked, Tyler couldn't stop trying to see down into the space under her jacket that hid her chest from his gaze. What should have upset her was making her slippery between the thighs.

Assuming he must also share her memories, she thought he might feel some of the same confidence she did, because she had been crushing on him just as hard as he had been on her since they met. Like Tyler had for her, Rylee had memorized every detail she'd learned about him and had a composite image of his body in her imagination pieced together from flashes of skin and supposition about what he looked like naked.

Having seen his own image of himself in her mind, Rylee compared hers to his and similarly found that her impression of him was similar, but not the same as his impression of himself. To Tyler, he appeared more muscular than he did to her. Maybe because she hadn't been a fan of big muscles before two of the woman she'd touched that day impressed upon her a lusty appreciation for well developed muscles. To Rylee, Tyler was much taller than he felt he was, but she was six inches shorter than him, so that made sense. With his memories in her head, she now knew he was six foot one to her five foot seven.

The memories also revealed he was four years older, having recently turned thirty. The male pharmacist thought Rylee was younger than she was, which pleased her, but unfortunately he now knew her real age. If he received the same information she had.

"Hey Tyler. How old do you think I am?" she asked during a pause in customers.

"Didn't you tell me you're twenty six?"

"Oh yeah. You just had a birthday, right?"

"How did you know?" the young man looked puzzled.

"Same conversation, silly."

That made his brow furrow even more. It gave Rylee the shivers too. They really had traded information with each other during that one, brief contact. Information neither should know about the other.

"The first girl you slept with was Becky Turnbull."

The dark haired man gaped at her, his face a horrified mask. Then as if dredging it up from the darkest, deepest part of himself, Tyler said

"The first guy you slept with was Niles Hinz."

When she nodded seriously, Tyler went absolutely white in the face.

"You'd better sit down, I think you might faint."

Helping him into the office, her own head began spinning from the confirmation that what she'd experienced was real.

When he had regained his composure, Tyler looked at her intently.

"I had an orgasm." He looked mortified.

"I tasted it." She smiled softly, having enjoyed it.

Once again he looked faint. A customer came to the counter, so Rylee left him to get back to work, but her head was back in the office wanting to comfort the man she suddenly knew so deeply. The next hour went by in a blur as work took precedent over the astonishing thing happening to Rylee and Tyler. Every opportunity that presented itself, the pair of them looked at each other and returned to pondering what was happening. They were never given long enough to attempt a conversation, merely exchange significant looks and shake their heads.

By the time Tyler's shift was over, the intensity of their experience had worn off somewhat and the habit of hard work had replaced some of the panicky, awed feelings that threatened to overwhelm her with reasonable calm. After all his shift duties were done, the pair of them stood in the office, awkward, with limited time to talk about what had happened earlier.

Taking off his lab coat, looking far more casual in jeans and a dress shirt than usual, Rylee thought Tyler looked handsome and appealing. The pair stood assessing each other and the powerful attraction they had for one another that had been revealed by the shared experience of melding memories and thoughts. Rather than even try to communicate what he was feeling, Tyler leaned forward and kissed Rylee.

The brief brushes of skin she'd experienced up to that point in no way prepared Rylee for the onslaught of sensations a full blown kiss would impart. Immediately thrust deep into Tyler's subconscious, Rylee was inundated with the full brunt of Tyler's sexual history. Everything was the same as before, but dialed up with more clarity and richer recall. Every masturbatory fantasy, each fleeting attraction to every person he'd ever wanted, the tactile sensations of all the sexual encounters he'd had flowed into her mind, imprinting on her as new memories of events she wasn't actually there for. The emotions Tyler felt during those adventures became how she felt about them as well.

However Rylee's own opinions surfaced in reaction to the things she learned. As her mind processed Tyler's memories, filtered through the dreamlike fantasies his subconscious made of them, Rylee had instant reactions to those experiences and those wrapped around Tyler's memories making them one with each other. Inextricably combined, Rylee suddenly had a whole deeper, richer experience of his sexual encounters to draw from as fuel for fantasies, or insights into Tyler.

Once more, Rylee found herself looking at Tyler standing in the pharmacy and, like before, the image of Rylee herself was kneeling before him sucking his cock. This core fantasy of his was paramount in his mind. Rylee intuited that this was the last thing he'd fantasized about and it was what she was to bear witness too until he had another.

Just like earlier, with effort and concentration, Rylee was able to insert herself into the fantasy. Taking over from the dream version of herself, Rylee imagined herself on her knees sucking Tyler's hard penis. Focusing on the sensations she should be feeling, reaching for the sensations Tyler was experiencing she wove a tapestry of both their perceptions of a blowjob, reeling herself into his dream. Bit by bit the feeling of being close to him, his cock in her mouth, her body surrounding her in its warm physicality grew more distinct and Rylee once more found herself in Tyler's dream.

The moment she was there, he knew it and they looked into each other's eyes, his cock still in her mouth.

"You're back!"

Nodding, not removing his wonderful erection from her oral grip, she tickled him with her tongue and stroked his shaft happily, greedy for the real thing, but overwhelmed by how realistic the dream felt. A small part of her wanted to talk to him and figure out what was happening, yet the dream was a sexual fantasy and she was beyond horny, almost in a full blown animal frenzy. Conversation seemed impossible, not while she already had what she wanted.

Adoring his manhood from the base of his balls to the tip of his knob, she worked her mouth over him with a lechery that embarrassed her, but Rylee felt everything he did, every base impulse and knowing he desperately wanted her to specifically worship his manhood, she did so without reservation. Behaving like a submissive slut was not something she had ever done before, but he wanted it, some of the other woman in her brain loved doing it and most of the men in there also relished the power they felt when a woman abased herself before them, so she acquiesced happily, perceiving his bliss as her own.

Bathing him in her spittle, she did everything she sensed him want her to do, her mouth an extension of his will, her own will present, but happy to submit to his fantasy. Thrilled to be feeling both sides and all the added input from other people's memories, she venerated his manhood wantonly. The dreamscape shifted with disorienting regularity, but the core of the fantasy, Tyler standing or sitting with her sucking his erection remained hyper-realistic, almost as intense as reality would have been. The strange, shared sensations added far more mental and emotional stimulation that reality, however.

At one point, Rylee wanted to fuck Tyler, she attempted to get up and bend over the counter, but she found herself back on her knees immediately, Tyler looking down at her, his face blazing with lust as he used her mouth. Confused, Rylee lay back on the floor, spread her legs and opened herself for him to fuck her. Then his cock was in her mouth and she was once again on her knees.

"Oh god, its so good" Tyler hissed. "Your mouth is amazing."

Along the shared connection she had with him, Rylee sensed confusion and frustration when she disengaged again. Suddenly she was outside the dream watching the dream version of herself blowing Tyler, but she felt nothing, she was merely an observer again.

Since Tyler had never fantasized about fucking her, it appeared that Rylee couldn't bring that into the fantasy. Still powerfully aroused, watching her dream-self have all the fun was not gonna happen, so she worked her way back into the fantasy. Doing so for the third time was easier. Focusing on what she had been experiencing only moments before, she visualized being the one on her knees, her mouth satisfyingly full, her hands busy and gradually the sensations grew more and more perceptible.

When she was once again back in the dream, her mouth not the other Rylee's the one slurping on his member, Rylee smiled internally that she was getting better at the new ability she had learned. Being able to enter Tyler's fantasy delighted her and when he once again erupted into her mouth, both versions of her relished the gush of tangy jism. The flow of sperm went on for much longer than it could ever have in reality and she swallowed it all as she sensed Tyler wanted her to.

Then they were back in the office, lips pressed together, panting and gasping as Tyler recovered from an actual orgasm and Rylee swallowed imaginary cum. Flushed, sweaty, her body confused because it thought it had been having sex, but wasn't, Rylee leaned on the door-frame, dizzy from the experience.

"Oh my god!" Tyler panted. "That really did happen!"

"It was even more intense!" she huffed.

"It really was!"

A wet spot spread across the bulge in Tyler's jeans. The flavour of sperm filling her mouth, she watched as his actual semen soaked through his jeans and wondered if it tasted the same as what she perceived in her mouth.

Seeing her attention on his crotch, Tyler covered up.

"Oh shit!" Instantly embarrassed, he blurted "I'm out of pants." Which made Rylee burst out laughing.

They both shared the laugh, but Tyler was clearly mortified. Before anything else could happen another customer interrupted. Rylee had to go back to work while Tyler was finished for the day. For a moment, she hoped he might wait for her, but her shift was two more hours and the embarrassment of cumming in two pairs of pants seemed to outweigh his curiosity. As he waved goodbye over the customer's shoulder, he attempted to skulk out without having his wet jeans noticed by the other people in the store.

The remainder of her shift was a grinding punishment as her sexual frustration mounted. The vast sexual energy the strange day had built up in her was driving Rylee wild. Hornier than she could ever remember being, she couldn't stop thinking about the surreal, vivid sex she'd shared with Tyler in the dream world.

The memories of the dozen new inhabitants in her mind offered a vast library of what, to Rylee, were brand new recollections to sift through. Constant reminders dislodged flashbacks of sex the various people Rylee had touched that day had once had. Random thoughts would ignite fantasies that those people had dreamed, bombarding her with alien desires that constantly goaded Rylee to want sex.

When she finally finished work, she carefully journeyed home, going to extreme measures to ensure she didn't touch anyone on the train or street. Many men ogled her scantly dressed body and their gaze made her squirm with hunger to let them fuck her. Like an animal in heat, she peered at them, her offered body drawing attention from far and wide. Struggling to not give in to the demands of her overwrought libido, Rylee scuttled home vibrating with the conflicting urges in her body, the urge to get home and be alone and the desire to throw herself at the first man to come close.

Before she got safely into her apartment however, she was lulled by the comforting, familiar presence of her downstairs neighbour Hector, a wheelchair using, elderly gentleman who'd had as stroke and couldn't communicate verbally. As soon as she'd moved in, she had discovered the witty, warm presence sharing in her building. Every day, Rylee visited Hector and chatted with him, the old man communicating with grunts, hand slaps, various expressions and a carefully built array of special buttons.

As she tried to rush upstairs to her vibrator and a long session of self indulgence, Rylee heard Hector press the 'hello' button on his chair. Before she'd met him, Hector had the wooden board installed on the side of his chair with a collections of bubble buttons for pets that had various words he could use for communication. For the first time, Rylee was reluctant to visit the old man, but she went to his door anyway.

"Hi Hector!" she called.

"Hello" his button intoned.

Embarrassed to be dressed so provocatively in front of him, she sat in the chair she usually used when visiting Hector, tucking the short hem of her skirt between her bare thighs, trying not to flash her panties. Holding an arm over her chest and the other primly in her lap, she told Hector a very abbreviated version of her day, while trying to ignore his wide-eyed appraisal of her bare flesh.

The older man did his best to share his day with her, Rylee forced to ask many questions for clarity, prying the story from him bit by bit. Hector, an inveterate gossip who had all the time in the world to watch the comings and goings of their building, told a story about another resident.

Knowing full well the way she was dressed would be the subject of much discussion with the rest of the building later, she squirmed in her chair feeling vulnerable and still desperately aroused. In spite of it all, Hector's charm and excellent story telling ability from before his stroke allowed him to still be funny, timing how he communicated to provide punch-lines. Soon, Rylee was giggling as she teased out the details of a conflict between a prissy person walking a dog past their building and the fierce old lady who got all the packages in Rylee's building. The conflict had been loud and long, as the two proud women refused to admit wrong while causing a scene on the street.

By the time Rylee had pulled the story from him, Hector had her laughing out-loud, his twinkling eyes communicating powerful humour. In the calm presence of the humorous old man, Rylee let her guard down and when she excused herself, she touched his hand gently, to convey her gratitude for his kindness, but unwittingly she fell right into the last sexual fantasy Hector had.

The dreamscape was his own, cluttered apartment, but the man in the chair was not old. A handsome, vigorous man in his thirties sat in a wooden chair while a different Rylee danced a striptease for him. Shocked to once again see herself as the subject of a man's fantasy, she watched with fascinated distaste as the imaginary form of herself undulated and pulled off her clothes.

The alternate Rylee had various articles of clothing that appeared and disappeared in a dizzying, titillating fall of garments that constantly hinted at what lay beneath. Slender, pale limbs waved and bras, panties, scarfs, and lingerie dropped to the floor to vaporize moments later. Breasts, legs, and the secret juncture between her legs flashed between an endless fall of tiny articles of clothing.

Watching with rapt, barely restrained lust, the young, handsome version of Hector leered at the dream variant of Rylee with avid hunger evident in every line of his body. The obvious delight he took in her striptease pleased the hyper-aroused Rylee watching remotely. The constant urge to have sex that had been burning within her all day proved impossible to resist and Rylee inserted herself into his dream with even more ease than the previous times with Tyler.

"Whoa!" Hector exclaimed when abruptly the dancing woman before him grew much more distinct and realistic.

Nude, gyrating to old fifties music, Rylee carried on dancing, enjoying his rapt attention on her body. Glancing down, she saw herself the way she looked in her mind's eye, some of her features perhaps not exactly like they were in real life. Oddly her pubic hair was full and thick however, not shaved as she kept it. Thinking about that, she saw her pubic hair fall away, only to immediately grow back.

In Hector's imagination she had pubic hair, so in the fantasy she had pubic hair.

The handsome, excited man in the chair drew her like a moth to flame, arousal surging through her body from all that had happened to her that day. Dropping to her knees before him, Rylee undid Hector's trousers and pulled out an impressive cock. In the way of dreams, it wasn't consistently exactly the same, but it was always large, so Rylee suspected Hector at least saw himself as having a larger than average member. It would also seem Hector had fantasized about her sucking his cock before, because she was successful at getting it into her hands and caressing him seductively.

The shocked, exultant expression on his face when she began to lick his tip made Rylee feel wonderful. The link they shared intensifying her blow job for both of them. Wondering if having sex with someone inappropriate in a dream was in any way ethical, she carried on anyway. Being able to give anyone that level of pleasure, while indulging themselves was a good thing, right?

For several erotically charged, sensual moments, the young woman lavished adoring oral affection on the impressive sex organ of her elderly neighbour. That Hector was young and handsome made it much more fun, but Rylee was still aware of who was receiving her ministrations. The kind, old fellow deserved this, she thought, lonely without his late wife, trapped in a ruined body, fading from the world he had known like a ghost, Hector deserved to have his erection worshipped in his fantasy.

Doing things she knew he'd never had done to him before, because every sexual memory he had flowed through her mind after touching him, she got a thrill from introducing him to novel sex acts. Things having his balls sucked, his cock deep-throated and being able to stand up and face fuck a woman, she did or encouraged him to do to her. Hector's ignorance of those acts made the dream shimmer and waver, but he was open to the changes and she was able to introduce new things to the dream unlike she had been with Tyler.

Before he could climax however, Hector put her on the table/bed, or a workbench she didn't recognize and then Hector did to her what she had done for him by adoring her sex with his greedy mouth. Rylee climaxed repeatedly, gratefully and demonstratively as Hector licked her clit, frigged her pussy with two fingers and made her cum.

The slide of his tongue over the tingling button between her legs was exquisite torment. After a full day of absorbing other people's pleasure, Rylee at last had someone return the favour. Bliss flowed through her to Hector, allowing him able to intuit better than any lover before what she wanted, for how long, how much pressure and when to stop. It was glorious.

Writhing ecstatically under his busy mouth, his fingers rubbing her insides deliciously, Rylee exploded. The pent up passion she'd needed to discharge all day finally had an outlet. Crying out loudly, she repeated 'yes' like it was the only word she knew, but everything he was doing was perfect, so it was the only word she needed.

Then Hector was naked, his substantial manhood pressed to her vulva, the tactile sensations so clear, as palpable as if they were awake and actually about to begin fucking.

"I want it. Please! Give it to me."

With spoken consent, the handsome, virile version of her elderly neighbour slipped his erection into her steaming juncture and they both moaned as pleasure suffused their nervous systems in tandem. Fully immersed in the dream world of her downstairs neighbour, Rylee felt him fill her as if it were really happening and her body detonated with delight at finally having a cock shoved into her desperate sex.

With gentle patience, Hector eased in and out of the climaxing girl on his table/bed/workbench. Needing his care, Rylee wept with gratitude, her feverish body overwrought from the memories flooding her with images of fucking, lovemaking, kinky torment, giving, taking, yearning and cumming that all the people she had touched that day had bequeathed her. So many memories of climaxes had popped into her mind that day, including decades of Hector's sexual experiences pouring into her even at that moment, that Rylee had been frantic to climax and release the backlog of frustration her body felt recalling orgasms it hadn't experienced.

As if making up for the discrepancy, Rylee climaxed repeatedly as Hector fucked her with gradually increasing intensity. Matching her own passion, he drove into her or eased back as she required, the bond they shared in that magical dreamworld giving him perfect insight into what her body required of him.

The moment Rylee felt his attention waver and shift inward toward his own climax, she was ready and returned the favour. Searching for the clues and signals he was sending along their shared connection, doing everything he needed in order to make him cum, Rylee stretched out long to allow him to gaze at her nudity, just like he wanted. The surge of lust that transmitted along their bond thrilled her as if she suddenly had two sets of genitals. The keen lust he felt seeing her petite, toned body writhing beneath him, her pert breasts stretched flat with hard nipples poking up, lashed her own libido with the impulse to cum, same as his.

Knowing what he needed to hear, pulling it straight from his favourite sexual memory, she said it, repeating words spoken to him on his honeymoon.

"Fill me up with your seed. Give me your son!"

Anguish, passion, joy, pride and other less precise emotions flowed through their link as Hector relived that other time. The old memory overlaid the new image of Rylee and Hector exploded with an orgasm that lasted for ages.

Filling her, making her climax with the intensity of his reaction to her words, Hector spilled himself, bellowing his zeal. Rylee held on for dear life as she shared his climax as well as adding her own to the web of sensation woven between them. In a feedback loop of ecstasy, they shared bliss with one another for an orgasmic eternity, pleasure coming in waves, but never abating fully.

Then abruptly, Rylee was back in Hector's apartment in her own body, alone with her sensations, her hand lifting from Hector after patting him for a distracted moment. Gasping in the aftermath of the astonishing sex they had just been having, Rylee's body felt as if she had been running up a long hill, out of breath, sweaty, jittery and uncoordinated.

A wet stain spread in Hector's pants, a tent over his visible erection. Her own panties were sticky and damp, but Rylee still felt intense sexual frustration. The amazing dream sex only made her want real sex more.

The look on Hectors face almost made her laugh, it was so intensely embarrassed, confused and happy all at once.

"Sorry, Hector, that's been happening to me all day."

Wide eyes showed disbelief.

"I'm sorry I said the same thing your wife said. That was invasive."

Again wide eyes showed disbelief. Then Hector began to cry.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry Hector."

The old man shook his head aggressively, and pressed the "No" button on his chair sideboard.

"Thank you." he pressed.

"Really?"

"Thank you thank you thank you" he repeatedly pressed the button, tears streaming down his weathered old cheeks.

Lifting the one good arm he could control, Hector reached for Rylee. Bending down, she wrapped herself around him and his feeble arm rested weightlessly on her back as they cried together. The moment was sweet and healing, marred only slightly by the wetness pressing her chest where his subsiding erection had spilled in his pants.

Without realizing it at first, Rylee was content to be held after a day not being able to touch other people. Then, just as she thought of that, Hector moved his sweater covered arm, his withered hand connecting to the bare skin of her shoulder and she was once again seeing a younger Hector watching her dance.

Inserting herself into the dream once again she spoke to him.

"Hello Hector.,

"How? How is this happening?" the younger man asked.

"No idea. It started today."

They looked at each other deeply, intimacy now forged between them through sexual fantasy.

"Thank you for the gift you gave me."

"I apologize for-"

"No need. I share your memories too, I know it wasn't malicious. It was a kindness and I appreciated it. More than you know."

"Actually, I do know. Same as you."

"I don't understand this sort of thing." He seemed truly bewildered.

"Who does? There's no science for this."

"It's so real."

"I think it is real."

"It feels so good to communicate with someone using my own voice!" Hector enthused. "Tell me everything you know about... this" he gestured around them both at the shifting, dreamy apartment.

Siting back in her chair, nude, or clad in lingerie, or old fashioned bras and panties, Rylee told him everything she remembered about her day, every detail, holding nothing back because he could feel her emotions through the link they shared. In actual fact, in the way of dreams, she told him very little because he just suddenly knew it all, but they spoke aloud to give him the joy of speaking after so long trapped inside a body that couldn't do his bidding any longer.

When they had shared much of her day and he shared more of his, they gazed at one another again.

"If this is still happening to me tomorrow, I'll come visit you here again, ok."

"I would love that so much."

The lust that he felt at the thought of her return spiked through both of them.

"Yes, we'll have sex again. Count on it" she assured him.

Blushing, he shared his embarrassment that he was so obvious.

"I loved it. I want to come back for that, as well as for more of our conversations. I hope I still can."

After using her vibrator to the point of exhaustion, she was finally able to give her actual body a measure of the gratification her mind felt after the glorious sex with Hector's dream self. Laying in bed later, Rylee wondered what her future would hold. Would she still be able to enter other people's sex dreams after another night of sleep? Why would she, having never been able to do so before, but then, why wouldn't she after being given that gift.

What would her life look like with the power to enter the dreams of other people? Well intentioned gifts could have unintended consequences. The ramifications of her ability could be far reaching. It could forever change how people viewed her. It had revealed everything to Tyler and Hector.

Thinking of Tyler, she understood she wanted a life with him. The connection she'd had with him revealed a man she could deeply care for to go along with the handsome fellow she'd already been crushing on. But, would he want a life with a woman who could do what she did with anyone she touched?

With the benefit of Hector's memories of many successful years of marriage, Rylee gleaned insights for how to succeed at a long term relationship. Scouring the memories of the other people she'd touched, she culled their dreams of relationships and found a path through the confusion before her. Hundreds of experiences lived by others offered her insights for how to negotiate the difficult, unusual circumstances she found herself in.

The gift's unintended consequences.

The more knowledge she received, the better she would be at life, learning from others mistakes before making them herself. Feeling wiser and fully confident she would be able to figure out a way to cope, she went to sleep, hoping the morning would bring more exciting, sexy dream-worlds when she touched people around her.