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Wet Dream X Rated
January 1947
The twelve year old boy lay at an extremely comfortable plateau.
Feeling the cool breeze from beneath the parted window as,
pulling the blanket over his head,
the boy felt the warm vapor of his breath
and his comfort:
physical and mental was complete.
The well of sleep deepened,
and deepened yet.
Now came a bright form in the tunnel’s dark,
vaporous distance
and the boy moved towards it.
As he came closer the figure dwindled.
As he began to run the figure receded into nothingness
leaving the tunnel in total blackness.
The light!
The boy ran to the light.
Running,
running,
but yet he remained in blackness…
Suddenly the bright form was back
and it was closer
but still too far away
and he could not see what it is.
But he must see what it is
and so he ran to it.
The light remained stationary,
Yet, as he came to it,
it came no closer
so the boy ran faster,
faster.
Closer…
The light is her!
Waving his arms,
“Wait!”
Running, “Wait,” he called.
“It’s me!”
The light’s away motion suddenly stopped.
“Wait, wait! It’s me.”
Stationary now,
she opened her arms to him
and she was as the old,
faded picture he’d seen:
naked.
She was naked
and he could see her so clearly:
her face,
her long, braided hair…
her breasts.
Repeating the words
the older boys had taught him:
“I want to touch your titties!’
The boy mumbled in his sleep.
Reaching to her,
she was just out of reach.
I want to see your cunt!”
He looked “there”…
But not knowing what to see,
there was nothing there;
nothing but a symmetrical,
one-dimensional hole that
the boy was able to see through,
to the blackness behind.
“I want jack-off in your cunt,
only then it’s called fucking.”
“But,” pointing her finger at him,
“you’re just a little kid!”
Looking down,
he realized he was naked,
and that he had an erection.
But it was not his penis
but a different penis,
one he had seen…
To be continued
©May 19, 2012 / Mark M Lichterman
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