Kier (If it Feels Good 1)

Kier (If It Feels Good 1)
Alice Gaines
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alice Gaines

The dream was back. The most frustrating one Maddy Russel had had in years, and she’d had some doozies. The hunky dude standing by her bed, naked and with a luscious erection. And she couldn’t move a muscle to do a damned thing about it. She’d scream, but she had no voice, on top of all the other irritants. At least if she could talk, she might be able to invite him to satisfy her never-ending horniness. The state of his cock said he was interested.

All she could do was lie there and stare at him, waiting for the image to disappear so she could wake up and fish underneath the bed for the vibrator she’d given a workout ever since this man started showing up in her nighttime fantasies.

Her brain worked -- sort of -- so she started her sleep ritual of mentally forcing her limbs to work. First with her toes and fingers, then with her feet and hands. On working on bigger and bigger parts of her body. Nothing actually moved, but by the time she concentrated on moving her torso, she managed to open her eyes and return to the real world. Still aroused -- hovering near orgasm. She took a few deep breaths and then reached to the place where she’d stashed her vibrator the last time this had happened. Last night? No, the night before. Still way too common for such torture. She slid it under the covers between her thighs and turned it on. Then, she settled back to let the man’s image -- or rather, his cock’s -- to flood her brain.

Her body took less than a minute to erupt in orgasm, her pussy contracting with the spasms. She bit her lip to stifle her cries. Not that anyone would hear them. Just what officials called “an abundance of caution.” Mrs. Russel’s little girl was nothing if not cautious. When it ended, she put the vibrator away and stared at the dark ceiling.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” a masculine voice said.

What the F? She jerked up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. No one was in the room. Her heart hammering, she took a few breaths. “Who’s there?”

No one would answer. She had to have imagined the voice.

“Over here,” it answered. Good Lord in heaven.

“Over where?”

“The mirror,” it said.

After throwing back the covers, she sat up, resting her feet on the floor. The antique cheval mirror she’d inherited from her grandmother wasn’t easily visible from here, but the best she could tell showed something in it. Something large enough to fill most of the frame. So, she got up and approached it slowly.

The image in it started to take shape. It was a man. The one from her dream.

“Ah, there you are,” he said. “Pleasant dream?”

“No, if it’s any of your business,” she answered. “Who are you, and how did you get into my mirror?”

“The physics is hard to explain.” He looked straight at her and smiled. “I’m on a mission.”

“And that might be…”

“You. Madeline Louise Russel, date of birth March 29, 1992. Your birthday is coming up.”

“My thirtieth.” Which she’d never expected to spend all alone without even a cat for company.

“Congratulations.”

This was getting truly weird. She pinched herself. “Ouch.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked.

“To see if I’m still asleep.”

“Whatever relaxes you.”

“What did you mean I’m your mission?” she said.

“You have a lot of questions.” He reached out from the mirror toward her. “This will all make more sense if you join me.”

She pulled back. “I have no intention --”

Before she could add “of joining you,” she was whisked off somewhere. Or whooshed, because that was what her ears registered, and a whirlwind surrounded her. When it cleared, she stood in an office next to the man’s desk where he sat fully dressed behind a desk with a laptop computer in front of him. He typed a bit on his keyboard. When he finished, he turned to her and smiled again. “Is this better?”

“This?” She only managed the one word before her brain sputtered out. She’d noticed his good looks from the other side of the mirror. Up close, he was absolutely stunning. He had hair so dark it was almost black, which made quite a contrast with his shining blue eyes. High cheekbones and a strong chin made his features almost rugged, but his lips… Lordy his lips. She could almost feel them on hers even though he sat a few feet away.