A Fistful Of Sand Book 1Chapter 21: Dreams And Nightmares free porn video

Gregg lay awake in bed early on Saturday morning. Like most nights, last night was restless ... but this time it wasn't because of those damnable recurring dreams of his, that is to say — his dreams of his former selves' untimely deaths. No, it was a pleasant break from the typical nocturnal horrors in that last night he got very little sleep because of the two women currently sharing the bed with him. Heather's bedsprings had been given a noisy workout through the late hours and into the late-late hours of the night.

Even when the party from the previous night ended and everyone went to sleep (Rivkah and E'dan in their bedroom upstairs; Chad, Laura, and Charli on Rivkah's living room floor; and Gregg, Heather, and Emily downstairs in Heather's bed), the moments of quiet slumber were few. The air was charged with sexuality and it seemed that if Gregg wasn't being woken by some noise from above — a bed squeaking or a floorboard creaking - then he was being woken by one of the women beside him.

The clock on Heather's nightstand to Gregg's right read 10am. It had been an hour since the girls had last collapsed in an exhausted heap on the bed, achieving yet another pinnacle of satisfaction ... and that hour represented the longest uninterrupted span of sleep he'd enjoyed all night. Curled up against him was Heather, her naked body above the covers bathed in the morning sunlight, getting all the warmth she needed from Gregg on one side and Emily on the other.

Afraid to move a muscle lest he wake either sleeping beauty beside him, Gregg was left alone with his thoughts. His head was turned to his left and he soaked in the beauty of the two women in his life that meant more to him than anything he could ever remember. He had spent years studying dead languages and lost cultures and for years his every thought was consumed with the never-ending quest to know more of what "once was" ... and now, in the span of just half a year or so, none of that seemed as important as figuring out what "will be."

'Why can't I just be happy with what I have?' he thought to himself, dredging up that line of thought that stuck in his brain like a sliver whenever it wasn't otherwise occupied. 'My life is surely blessed — I have this amazing power, I have these amazing people in my life ... why do I have to know the 'why'?!' But he could no more ignore the 'why' of this question — especially THIS question — than he could the innumerable "whys" that drove him to such notable academic successes at such an early age.

Gregg's quest to know the 'why' and 'how' of his powers was certainly an obsession. His whole grand plan to delay the destruction of the dig in Tunisia had less to do with saving artifacts for history's sake and more to do with his need to understand how he got his powers. To a lesser extent, it was also an attempt to thwart a violent and bloody death that all his predecessors with the same power seemed to suffer ... if they even really existed and weren't just figments of his imagination.

It was in that moment of pondering his dreams that he looked across to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed and spied his dream journal. He meticulously noted his dreams every night — at least what he could remember of them. Trying to hold onto the images in his head upon waking was like trying to hold onto a fistful of sand — the harder he struggled to hold onto them, the faster they seemed to slip through his fingers. Every once in a while he reread prior entries, and they read like fiction — he had no actual memories of the dreams, his notes were the only proof they happened at all. Last night he had thought his journal had been stolen, only to find it returned in its usual place the following morning. But now as he studied it — really studied it — he saw that something was wrong.

For starters he saw that the small leather-bound book had a crease running along its spine. Secondly, the pages seemed oddly fluffed up. These details would be meaningless for most people, but not for Gregg. Before Heather, Emily, and the others had entered his life, books were the most important things to him. Never owning a car nor ever having an apartment bigger than a single bedroom or studio, all of Gregg's disposable income had gone into books — and he treasured every one. He never made notes in margins or highlighted anything. He had volumes of small leather-bound journals of meticulous notes he'd taken for just about every book he owned ... even the few fictions. Gregg treated each of his books, even newly published ones like precious artifacts he had uncovered in an ancient ruin. He never opened one wide enough to crease its spine — like someone clearly had with his journal. A disturbing thought ran through his mind: had someone photocopied it? That would explain the damage — damage no one else would have noticed.

He pondered whether to probe into Heather's or Emily's minds ... or even the minds of his friends upstairs, but stopped short, shaking his head. 'No ... If I can't trust them, then I can't trust anybody ... besides, they're just dreams, nothing of interest to anybody else ... I probably just knocked it off the bed that night ... it probably landed open-face ... and Emily or Heather probably put it back before I woke ... I'm sure that's it... ' But for some reason, this simple and straightforward explanation just didn't feel right.

Even as he pondered this seemingly minute mystery, Gregg he kept wondering why he had a sudden and strong desire to talk to Deuce, the odd Englishman who occasionally sat in on his classes. True, conversations with Deuce were somewhat surreal, but they were always engaging ... and yet, for the life of him, Gregg couldn't remember the content of a single one! More than once, while Gregg sat in his office contemplating anything to do with the dig or with his powers, he'd often find himself fingering Deuce's business card, thinking to give him a call. "Deuce X. Machinaw" it said in big bold letters. "Hand of God Research, Ltd." He was an odd fellow with an odd name. And every time the man caught Gregg looking at his card, he seemed to be waiting for Gregg to laugh at some joke ... a joke that to both Gregg's and Deuce's frustration, was always just out of reach.

Heather stirred against Gregg's body. The tightening of her arms around his torso, the gentle pressure of her bare pussy against his hip, the low semi-conscious moan coming from her throat — these all conspired to erase any thoughts of Deuce or his journal from Gregg's mind. She looked up at him, her sultry green eyes filled with desire, lust, and love. Her hand snaked down and began playing with Gregg's re-hardening cock, her smile mischievous.

It took a force of will greater than any Herculean quest for Gregg to gently move Heather's hand and stand from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower ... a very, very cold shower!" He stood at the bed looking down at the cornucopia of flesh before him, Emily now also beginning to stir. Pointing at the two girls, he said, "I don't know about you two but I'm starving and if we don't get up now, we'll never get up!"

Heather looked up at Gregg, her eyes becoming wide and innocent. "First, Gregg, I'm hungry too ... but not for food." Emily stifled a giggle against Heather's naked shoulder. "Second," she glanced down at his now hard cock, "it seems that you're already up." Emily was now actually biting Heather's shoulder to keep from bursting out in laughter. "Third," Heather looked up and down from his finger to his cock, "I don't know about YOU TWO, but didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to point?" That was the last straw for Emily who rolled onto her back in peels of laughter.

Gregg shook his head in amused exasperation and went into the bathroom, the sound of both girls laughing behind him. Fifteen very cold minutes later, Gregg emerged from the bathroom, his libido put on ice, so to speak. But, the sight of his two beautiful, naked lovers sitting on the floor facing each other with their legs spread wide and their feet touching quickly negated his forced cooling-off period. Heather and Emily were holding each other's arms, pulling each other into long, deep stretches. Emily started giggling again when she saw how quickly the cold shower's effects were wearing off. But it was Heather who spoke. "Geez Gregg, what did you expect? You gave us quite the workout last night ... we needed to stretch to get the kinks out ... and up!"

Again, Emily broke into a giggle fit and had to break her stretch. Deciding she'd had enough fun torturing Gregg, she stood, gave him a peck on the cheek and took her turn in the shower.

Gregg sniffed the air, the smell of Rivkah's cooking was coming through the vents. Rivkah must have been cooking a lot for her delicious kitchen aromas to cut through the smell of sex that permeated every inch of Heather's bedroom. Both his and Heather's stomach rumbled and Heather gave a mock frown, finally agreeing that play time was over. Gregg helped her up from the floor and she went into the bathroom to join Emily in the shower. When he heard more giggling coming from behind the closed door, Gregg knew that there was no sense waiting for them to finish. Picking out some comfortable clothes to wear for the day, he got dressed. Heather and Em would know where to find him when they got done.

Upstairs was a bevy of normalcy, which was strange given the events of the previous night. E'dan and Rivkah were working their magic in the kitchen making pancakes, eggs, and hash browns. Chad and Charli were both sitting at the breakfast bar eating their food. Chad had a lacrosse practice he needed to get to and Charli didn't want him to eat alone. The shower was running, so that meant that Laura, the only person missing, was in there. The other abnormally normal thing was that everyone was dressed. Gregg wondered why he assumed everyone would be naked, but it seems that life had to go on, even if that meant wearing clothes. Now that he thought about it, standing in front of a skillet with hot oil and sizzling potatoes was probably not something one should do naked!

Chad finished wolfing down his food and said his goodbyes, making sure Charli got a long, lingering kiss. Giving Gregg a jocular punch in the arm on his way out, Chad apologized that he couldn't stick around. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night and today's practice was going to be brutal. Besides, he wanted to get over to the library to pick up some books and he had to get back to his frat house to gather up his gear.

Gregg took Chad's now vacant seat next to Charli and E'dan replaced Chad's now cold cup of coffee with a new mug filled with hot Earl Grey tea for Gregg. Gregg smiled that his friends knew him well enough that they didn't even need to ask. Filled with that warmth that only friendship can bring, Gregg's gaze fell to Rivkah. She was smiling and humming a Jewish-sounding melody to herself as she effortlessly worked three skillets.

She seemed to be lost in her own joy, glowing perhaps. Gregg remembered the gift he had given her last night: that after so many years of trying, E'dan's seed had finally succeeded (with Gregg's help) in fertilizing an egg. Rivkah couldn't possibly know she was pregnant yet, and still... 'I guess a woman always knows... ' Gregg had seen her C-section scar, the only flaw on an otherwise perfectly sculpted body. He never asked and they never volunteered their story — but at some point in their dark and war-torn pasts, there was a child that no longer was.

E'dan took a break in chopping vegetables for the frittata he was preparing and stood behind his wife, lovingly holding her in his arms, humming in harmony along with her. Gregg couldn't hide his smile at the secret knowledge he held, that in some small way he'd helped make his friends' greatest dream come true.

Charli was watching Gregg almost as intently as he was watching the Israeli couple. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Gregg shook himself out of his reverie and finally really noticed the girl sitting beside him. It never ceased to amaze him at her transformation. When they first met, she could barely hold his gaze. Now she was confident and beautiful, a sensual creature with pale skin and long, luscious black hair. They still hadn't done anything more than kiss, despite the plethora of opportunities during the previous night. She was waiting for something and Gregg wasn't about to push her. "Just wondering what I did right to deserve such wonderful people in my life."

Rivkah and E'dan smiled at him before returning to their kitchen duties. Charli just sat there staring at him. Gregg could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Just before her gaze became uncomfortable, she finally turned back to her plate, smiling to herself.

Heather and Emily joined them upstairs and Laura finally emerged from the bathroom. Her entrance caused everyone to stop and pause. Laura, the glamorous and leggy blonde looked ... well ... kind of nerdy ... in a sexy way. She was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt (her long legs were the sexy part), her hair was held back with a bandana she'd borrowed from Rivkah, she held a text book and notebook in her hands, and she was gasp wearing glasses! "My contacts were bothering me, so I had to take them out!" she replied to the unasked questions.

She was all smiles as she made the rounds, kissing everyone good morning. When she stood next to Charli, no one would ever have guessed that Charli was the computer geek and that Laura was the sorority princess. Gregg got an especially lingering kiss and a "Good morning Master," whispered in his ear. Heather and Emily broke out in a fit of giggles when Gregg rolled his eyes. Apparently she still wasn't ready to let that title go.

Eventually all the food was prepared and E'dan set extra boards into the dining room table so everyone had room. For the Israeli couple, it was like breakfast at the kibbutz, with everyone eating together. They all ate more than their share, a testament to Rivkah's cooking as well as to the appetite they had worked up from the night before.

As long as Emily had a captive audience, she went downstairs and grabbed some of her medical gear. Taking everyone into Rivkah's room one by one, she practiced listening to their hearts and taking their blood pressure. After she diagnosed four people in a row with either bronchitis or heart murmurs and high blood pressure, she decided that she needed a lot more practice.

After breakfast, Gregg said he was going back to his apartment, now affectionately called "HQ" by the gang to catch up on some work. Heather said she needed to return all the equipment and costumes from last night. Charli said she wanted to get over to the hospital so she could visit Mickey, the brother of her friend from the Black Box. Heather volunteered to join her, but Charli initially said no. "It's not that I wouldn't want you with me ... and I know Mickey would love to see you — he's been drooling over your picture that his brother Les took that night we went to the club — it's just that, well ... he's really badly burned ... and, and it might be upsetting for you."

"Thanks for the warning Charli, but I'll be okay. Really. Besides, I'd like to see this man in your life." Heather gave Gregg wink.

"Okay..." Charli said doubtfully. "Mickey's a great kid, but ... well, I guess you'll see for yourself."

Laura was adding even more sugar to her cup of coffee and asked, "Mind if I join you? We can use my SUV to haul everything."

Charli had serious doubts about Laura being able to hold up under the emotional stress of seeing a child in a burn unit. Laura lived in a world of glamour and physical perfection — there was nothing in her life that could prepare her for something like this. But despite Charli's and Heather's misgivings, Laura was adamant. In a way it was sort of a relief to Gregg to see Laura standing her ground. It was the first real backbone she'd shown since she became his slave.

Giving up on trying to talk Laura out of it, Heather asked Emily (who at that moment was listening to her own heartbeat through her stethoscope) if she wanted to join them. Looking up at Heather with sad eyes, she answered, "Either I also have a heart murmur or ... sigh ... I think I better stay behind and study. Maybe I'll join Gregg at HQ — it'll be quieter there and I can listen to my heart and lung recordings. Hey, if I get everything done, we'll get to play doctor!" Gregg and Emily chuckled over that, but Heather just shuddered with excitement, remembering how incredibly hot their game of 'doctor' was shortly after they'd met. Heather was sad Em couldn't join them, but she understood. Becoming a nurse, maybe eventually a doctor was very important to Emily and even as talented as she was, there were times when she just had to knuckle down and focus her energies on her studies.

"That's okay sweetie. You keep Gregg out of trouble. We'll handle this stuff." Heather was going to ask E'dan and Rivkah what they had planned (besides cleaning), but the lustful looks they were giving each other at that moment meant they probably had other plans.

"Are you sure Paul? Are you absolutely sure it was Heather?"

"Yeah, boss, I'm sure! Shit, I've jacked off enough to memories of those tits to remember!"

"Where you at?"

"I'm at Custom Costumes. She and two other fine looking chicks just dropped off a shit load of lighting and sound equipment and some garment bags before driving off."

"You dumb fuck! Why didn't you follow them?"

"I'm sorry Vinnie! But I was ... um ... trying out one of the new strippers. Shit, if that bitch can dance as well as she can suck..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Vinnie yelled into the phone. "I want you to bring the owner of that place ... what's his name? ... Eric, I think ... you bring him to me. I want to find out what he knows about Heather. Oh, and bring some plastic sheeting and duct tape ... That fucker's going to tell me everything I want to know, and I don't want blood on my new carpeting..."

In the dimly lit subterranean level of the parking garage, there was no noise but the muffled sounds of sobbing. After their visit with Mickey, Charli, Heather, and Laura had made it all the way down to Laura's car before Laura finally broke down. For the time-being it was all Heather could do just to hold her and let the girl cry it out.

Charli had a similar reaction the first time she'd visited Mickey, but she'd visited him enough times since then that his burns no longer bothered her. But she kept a sympathetic hand on Laura's back, knowing all-too-well what her friend was going through. Heather was a pillar of strength and right now Laura needed a shoulder to cry on, so Heather would have her own tears ... later.

"I'm proud of you Laura," Heather was saying soothingly. "You did wonderfully. You looked him in the eye, and you didn't flinch. And when you kissed him goodbye ... well, let's just say I think you made a friend for life."

Laura pulled back a little and wiped her eyes. "It's not fair."

"I know honey. That brave little boy didn't deserve what happened to him."

"No, not that ... well, that too. I mean it's not fair that he's all burned and in a wheelchair, and he spent the last hour telling jokes and making me laugh. It should have been the other way around! I thought we were there to cheer HIM up."

This time it was Chari's turn to speak. "Mickey's a remarkable kid. He always liked helping people. And seeing you smile more than made his day, I'm sure. Your job wasn't to entertain him ... just being there was enough. I can't tell you how much I admire you right now ... for being here with us ... for being here for him..."

Laura smiled and wiped away a few more tears. She pulled her long blonde hair in her hands, tugging on its length. It was something she used to do when she was sad or nervous. Her hands brushed through the long tresses and she took several deep, cleansing breaths. Finally, somewhat collected ... at least enough to drive, she took one more long look at her hair in her hand. "Um, hey ... do you gals mind if we make one more stop before heading home?"

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. Laura dropped Heather and Charli back at Heather's apartment to gather their things and head over to HQ to study and do homework. It's amazing how libidos can crash when papers are due.

Laura headed back to her sorority house and remained locked in her room studying. It was slow going, despite her light class load. Even though she wasn't under any direct mental control to study and do well, her new-found identity and her new friends were all of an intellectual caliber far above her. She figured she owed it to them, and to herself, to prove that she was more than just a pretty face on a fabulous body. She even postponed another "date" she was supposed to have with Junior. The "new" Laura really didn't want to see him again. For starters, knowing his father paid her to usher him into manhood now made her feel kind of dirty. Sex once was just a means to an end, but since submitting to her Master and finding acceptance beyond the superficiality of Omega Xi, she wasn't too keen on sleeping her way to success.

Besides, the kid was only sixteen. Moreover, Junior had a hair-trigger, as she recalled from their last evening when she had to clean his spunk off her steering wheel of her SUV. "I wouldn't wish this kid on my worst enemy!" But even as she thought those words, she realized she was wrong ... she would wish him on her enemy ... one enemy in particular...

Another plan started to form ... but she'd need help.

Sunday night found the gang over at HQ doing what college students (and professors) do on Sunday nights: watching The Simpsons! But before and after that, they were studying and eating Chinese take-out. HQ had become the natural hangout for the group, probably since it was comfortable and there was still plenty of computer equipment left over from their blitz-proposal drive. Jim, Charli's one-time supervisor and now collaborator, had suggested just leaving everything there for the time-being. After all, if their plan came through, there'd be another blitz of work to be done, so why move everything out only to have to move it back in later. In the meantime he was trying to find a more permanent home for his software development lab — he was that confident that something good would come from all their hard work.

Of the five people there, Heather was the only one not at a computer. Chad and Charli were at the heavy table in the middle of the room facing each other, occasionally looking up from their respective screens to smile shyly at each other. Their smiles were sweet, which was surprising given the speed metal the two were listening to that Gregg could hear escaping from their headsets. Gregg worried about hearing loss, and then worried that he was starting to think like an old person. 'I'm only 26 ... not ready yet to be a codger.'

Gregg was sitting on the couch with a laptop computer on the card table in front of him. He was tweaking the week's lesson plans. Heather was curled up against his side intently reading a book that Chad had brought back from the library. Why she needed a book about Chi-town's Prohibition-era criminals, he had no idea.

Gregg's computer flashed that he had an email. It was from Laura. He hadn't seen or heard from her since she left yesterday morning. He read it through and became both intrigued and slightly aroused. He wrote back that he'd help her in any way he could.

He tried to get back to his work, but he got another email from Charli. He was wondering why she just didn't say something, after all he was only ten feet away. She was asking what were they going to about Brittany this Monday night.

Gregg hadn't really given Brittany Anderson much thought with all that had happened Friday night. Brittany was scheduled for another "lesson" Monday night and it would be the first time Charli would be face to face with her attacker (well, from behind a mask, that is). She was scared that she didn't know what to do and didn't want to ruin everything. Her letter included a P.S. asking him to continue to not tell Chad.

Gregg looked up at her, and she smiled weakly at him after making sure Chad wasn't looking. Tapping Heather on the shoulder, he pointed to his screen. She lifted the computer down and nestled against Gregg's side as she started typing out a response. Gregg hadn't intended on her taking over, but that's exactly what she did. By the time she was done typing the long email, Gregg had a noticeable pup-tent in his lap. He wondered if she'd been thinking of this all weekend or if this was something that just came to her on the fly. Either way, it was an exciting idea.

Gregg took back his computer and sent his own emails off to Charli and Laura, explaining what needed to happen Monday night. Since Emily would be at school, she wouldn't be able to take part ... and, if Charli didn't mind, maybe Laura could "occupy" Chad for the evening? The three of them were bound together in a way that only shared pain and forgiveness can. Charli meant every word she said on Friday night, she truly had forgiven Laura, as had Chad, and Gregg hadn't sensed a whiff of jealousy amongst them.

Only minutes later, Gregg received affirmative emails from all interested parties. Emily looked up from her anatomy books on the floor and started shutting down her computer. She needed to get going while there was still a little light left. Chad offered to drive and as Charli followed Chad and Emily out, she gave one last look over her shoulder at Gregg and mouthed "thank you" silently.

Once the door closed, Heather put down her book and with a mischievous grin unzipped Gregg's pants, freeing his stiff cock. Sighing in mock exasperation, she said, "What did I tell you about pointing? Come on Professor, let's go to my classroom so I can teach you a lesson." Heather stood and entered her classroom, the bedroom. Gregg, ever the eager student was right behind her.

"Brittany, Laura, Natalie ... don't leave just yet." The three girls looked at each other, each with very different expressions on their faces. It was Monday morning and their Anthropology class had just ended. While the rest of the class filed out past Chad at the table at the front of the classroom to collect their graded homework, the three Omega Xi sorority beauties waited for Dr. Walters to finish shutting down the day's PowerPoint presentation and slide show. Natalie, the sorority neophyte just looked confused while Brittany actually looked nervous. Laura's expression was blank — but only because she was trying not to smile at what she knew was coming.

An hour before class began, she was waiting at Gregg's door to continue volunteering her filing services to him. He'd tried to get her to stop, saying that her punishment was over, but she insisted that she enjoyed helping him. He had as little luck convincing her to stop as he did in getting her to quit calling him "Master" in private. But it wasn't just that she'd shown up at his door that had caught him by surprise ... It was her hair ... or perhaps one could say, her LACK of hair.

Apparently after her trip to the hospital to visit Mickey, Laura needed to do something, anything, to make her feel better. So, with Heather and Charli in tow, she went to her favorite salon and had them cut a foot and a half off her golden tresses to donate to Locks of Love. Her shorter hair was still immaculately styled, ending just below her neck, flaring out and lightly feathered. In Gregg's mind, she looked more beautiful than ever.

"Now, Miss Andrews ... your notes?" Brittney smiled a smug smile and pulled a spiral notebook out from her backpack and offered it to her professor. Gregg just sighed and without opening it up handed it to Natalie. "No Brittany ... YOUR notes. These are Natalie's. I watched you put her notebook in your bag after class. This will not do. Not only did you not do as you were told, you deliberately tried to deceive me. You will come to my office after my office hour is complete. I don't want you taking up time from other students who actually WANT my help." Gregg could see that she was fighting to bite back the caustic comments that would normally have come flying out her mouth. Gregg held all the cards now that he had that wild sex tape and all of her meticulously kept blackmail files. He'd already shown just how easy it would be to destroy her reputation and she was not eager to provoke him right now ... especially in front of the other sorority sisters. If there was a way out of this while keeping her reputation in tact, such as it was, she'd find it.

"Okay, you may leave. Scoot along now." Brittany's eyes seethed with anger at how little respect she was being shown. She spun on her heels and stormed out from the classroom past Chad without stopping. She didn't have any homework to collect from him anyway. Natalie just stared at Brittany in stunned silence.

"Natalie, letting another student copy your notes is a violation of the student conduct code." It wasn't really — copying a test or a paper was, but Gregg used a little mental push to make the lie stick. Natalie gulped in fear that she was really in trouble. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"It's ... it's not my fault ... she made me. She's president after all ... I had no choice!"