Sharon had called me in the most frantic of voice that I have ever heard from her since from when we had been kids together. She wanted me to come over to her house at this very moment. I did. Once I was let inside, she wasted no time in telling me what was upsetting her so much.
“Have you seen David Lane? Have you seen him? Have you? I do not know where he is.”
Her voice seems almost tearful and woeful at the same time. But also full of alarm and worry, too.
“No! No! I have not seen him. Not since we were both in high school, together. When his mom worked in the restaurant where I worked.”
“Are you sure?” She says even more frantic than she had been seconds ago.
“What is the matter? Why are you asking me all these questions? I do not know where he is.”
“David Lane is missing. No one knows where he is. Tell me! Tell me, please!”
At this moment, I got mad. Mad. Mad. Red-faced bleary eyed mad.
“Sharon if you are doing this somehow to blame me for his disappearance, you will pay! You will pay! I will see to it!”
I am angered more than I had ever been at her before in all our years as friends.
I calmed down. Slowly. Taking in many chests full of breaths. And regained my composure. I had let her madness overtake me.
“Have you talked to his mom? Been to his house? Have you tried any of that? Before you called me?” I ask.
She nods her head, ‘No.’
“Well, then let’s go to his house. C’mon. C’mon. Let’s get a move on.”
We do. It is a short drive as he lives with his mom and sisters just a few blocks away from where we are. We knock on the door, and she lets me and Sharon in. It had been some years since I had seen Mrs. Lane but she recognized me right away and gave me a big ole Mother Bear hug. She always smelled so good. Her perfume wafted to my nostrils, and I was brought back to the thoughts of my long-deceased mom. She had worn the same perfume. I miss her so much.
Mrs. Lane wanted to know why we were there. And Sharon asked. Awash in tears and shaking uncontrollably, Sharon told her of her son being missing and unaccounted for. Mrs. Lane calmed Sharon down, soothed her as though you would a small child. But her cajoling does not work. Perhaps, Sharon needs some rest, Mrs. Lane suggests.
She offered to let us both lay down. Inside one of her many bedrooms, Sharon, and I both strip down to our bare skin and crawl into bed. I am naked. As is Sharon. Her perky breasts show themselves in the dimness of the bedroom. But I do not care. I have never seen Sharon as a form of sexual attraction.
At some point, in the darkness of night, a lone figure walks into the room. It is David. He is naked, too. But I can make out his body in remarkably explicit detail. The wavy blonde hair on his head. The whispers of wave-like fur on his chest. Especially around his nipples and in the center of his abundantly muscled chest. And the long wispy trail of these hairs that goes to the ever abundance of yellowish dense curls of his furry pubes. He is just as handsome and muscular as he was in high school. He climbs over Sharon and gets in-between us both, his round behind brushes against my flaccid cock. I can feel the hairs that blanket his ass as they brush against my very sensitive cockhead. David moves closer and closer towards me, making my cock grow into its solid erect hardness. And even more fierce in its appearance.
Underneath the soft cotton sheet, I lay my hand in the crook of his leg and reach for and feel his cock. He is as hard as I am. I begin stroking this fiery erection. He shifts and faces me. I can feel his warm body against mine. Our cocks fight for the space between us. My almost seven inches of lengths strains for some dominance. As does his. But his is closer to eight, maybe nine inches between his two muscled legs. He always sported a hefty bulge in his gym shorts while we played touch football during our Physical Education classes in high school. He was always the quarterback of these games.
David leans in to give me a kiss. And strokes my burning red hard-on. I am dark haired compared to his lightness. Opposites.
He then shifts again. His ass smothered against my taunt seven inches. Suddenly, Sharon removes herself from the bed. Opens the bedroom door. And exits. It is only him and me still in the bed.
“Fuck me!” David whispers still not needing too. “Fuck me!”
My cock slides into his hole. I feel myself growing harder and harder. Deep within his fur-lined deep hole.
“Fuck me, harder! Harder!” David bellows out in the quietness of the room.
I do. My seven inches disappears time and again into his depths.
“I am cumming! I am cumming!” I scream.
Suddenly, I am awake from my dream. My chest. My cock. They are all buried into the softness of my mattress. I roll over. There is an abundance of cum soaked into my dark chest hairs and puddled into softness of the fitted cotton sheet of my bed. The scent of my expelled juice reeks of musky man-sex. It had all been a dream. It is the most intense sex dream I have ever experienced. My cock is swollen to its most magnificent seven inches. My cockhead is as full as it can be. The mushroom shaped head blossoms from between my two hairy legs.
(This was an actual dream I have experienced in the past few days. I wanted to share this intense dream with everyone as it was a very memorable experience.)
