6 Times a Day

After Susan awoke, she remained disoriented for quite some time. For one thing, even though her dream was wildly improbable, she had been convinced it was real until she opened her eyes to the harsh light of day. It took her some moments to piece together that she was lying on her bed and that she'd been taking a midday nap.

For another thing, although it was only a dream, she'd had a very real and very powerful climax. She'd been having seemingly countless erotic dreams in recent weeks, but she hadn't ever really had a wet dream, and hadn't realized that women her age could still have them. And even though she'd been doing nothing but sleeping, when she woke up she was sweaty all over as if she'd just run a race. Even her legs and arms were trembling.

She was very grateful that her period had ended. It would have been embarrassing to have to deal with the resulting mess.

She staggered to the bathroom and had a long cold shower to help clear her head.

When it was over she felt a lot better, but she also felt extremely disturbed by her strange dream. She immediately balled up her bed sheets and tossed them into the laundry basket, since the large wet spot on her bed reminded her of how she'd felt during the dream.

Trying to pretend there was nothing wrong, she painted her fingernails, a calming post-shower ritual for her. While she did that, as she stared at them, she thought, I'm so glad I followed Suzanne's advice and cut them way down the other day. Before, they could be dangerously sharp. But now they're just the right cock-stroking length. Uh, I mean, member-stroking length. Darnation, I have to stop calling it a cock. Erection, there's a good word. That's very technically correct, since it's erect and throbbing with need most of the time. Now, when I hold my son's erection, I can stroke it and not worry about damaging him. And when I fondle his balls...

Dear me! I'm at it again. I really have to stop these lewd and sinful thoughts. I need help! My dream was beyond sinful; it was seriously disturbed!

She did what she'd always done when she needed comfort and advice: she called Suzanne.

Lying on top of her newly replaced bed sheets with nothing but a towel wrapped around her voluptuous body, she spoke into the phone. "Suzanne? Are you there? I need your advice!"

Suzanne was in her private office at her house, typing on her computer. When she had spare time she liked to work there on her financial investments. "Yes, I'm here, my friend. I'm a little bit involved at the moment, but you always come first. What's up?"

"Suzanne, it was horrible! I just had the most depraved and disturbed dream of my entire life! Well, that's not entirely true. I've had some pretty disturbed dreams in the last week or two, but this one was right up there. But it seemed even more REAL than usual! And, well, I don't know how to say this, but I ended up all wet."

"You wet your bed?"

"Well, not like that..."

"You're sweaty?"

"Yes, there is that, but that's not the main thing..."

Suzanne concluded, "It was a sexual dream. You're wet that way. To be blunt, you had a climax in your sleep."

Susan shamefully confessed, "Yes. Dear goodness yes! There's something terribly wrong with me! At my age, to be having powerful wet dreams like this! It's wrong! It's a sin!"

"Calm down, Susan. I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems. Alan has that effect on women; it's only natural."

"You know it's about him?!"

Suzanne chuckled. "But of course. All your strange dreams lately have been about him, haven't they? Why don't you start from the beginning and tell me all about this one?"

"I can't!"

Suzanne spoke like a chiding mother. "Susan! We've been over this. You need to tell me your dream, and that's that. It'll be therapeutic."

So Susan described the dream in great detail. Her plan was to describe it in a clinical and dispassionate manner, like a psychologist dissecting it for meaning. She did start out that way, but as she got into the spirit of it, she naturally grew increasingly heated and passionate.

Suzanne helped by asking questions that seemed to be neutral, but somehow pushed her buttons and made her even more aroused.

Before long, Susan was so carried away that she was inventing new details that weren't even in the original dream. The dream memory had started to fade, forcing her to make up some parts to cover the fuzzy areas.

Suzanne didn't help her even a bit to keep calm - as per her overall plan, she took advantage of every opportunity to break down Susan's sexual barriers, and this was a golden one, not to be missed. Suzanne's questions started to become increasingly blatant and enthusiastic, like, "And was he groping your big tits? I hope he was. Did he give them a really good squeeze and knead them like he owned them?"

"Oh God! Dear God, yes he was! It was exactly like he owned them, in fact. And he even played with them while he spanked me! Isn't that wrong?"

"Not necessarily. Remember, you need to readjust your attitude to help with his treatment. Please continue. Did it feel good, the way he was pulling on your nipples?"

"So good! So good!"

And so they continued like this. Even Suzanne found herself getting really hot and bothered.

Susan had erred badly by calling her friend while dressed in just a towel (although, subconsciously, it probably wasn't an accident). It only took a minute or so before the towel had opened and her hands were roaming all over her body. Before long, the towel was on the floor and her fingers were pulling on her clit.

She was a woman in serious need of a dildo. However, there was no way she'd have the gumption to walk into a store and buy one, or even ask Suzanne for one, so she had to make do with her fingers.

Finally, after some more powerful orgasms, Susan's body was so sore and exhausted from too many orgasms in too short a time that she reached a more contemplative mental state. The explanation of the dream now done, she started to raise more serious concerns about it.

"Suzanne, I'm such a bad person. Horrible! Twisted! Sick! Evil! What kind of wife treats her husband like that?! I cuckolded him with his own son!"

"Susan, may I remind you that it was only a dream?"

"It wasn't really. It was an exaggeration, yes, but is it so far off from real life? Maybe this is some kind of prophecy! I mean, I HAVE sucked my Tiger off more than once. And the other day I was strutting around naked while you jacked him off, right in Ron's bedroom! It can hardly get any worse than that!"

Suzanne stated, "Let me remind you again that, first, you were appropriately covered in a towel most of the time, not strutting around naked. Sweetie hardly had a chance to stare at your sopping-wet pussy for more than a minute or two, tops. Not counting your naked hug, of course. Second, that's your bedroom, not Ron's. Given that he's gone eleven months of the year, you can't say he lives here in any sense of the word. You'd have to look hard to find any Navy wives who see their husbands less than you do."

Susan sighed. "Be that as it may, you have to admit the dream does have some basis in reality. And things are getting worse all the time! Who knows what it'll be like in a month! Maybe this is some kind of terrifying nightmare preview of my life to come!"

"Nightmare?" Suzanne asked skeptically. "Most people don't pass out repeatedly from multiple orgasms in their nightmares."

Susan whimpered helplessly at that.

Suzanne confidently continued, "Anyhow, let's look at this rationally. You're feeling a lot of irrational guilt over your assistance with Sweetie's treatment. Plus, you just found out that Ron is almost certainly repeatedly cheating on you. You're bound to feel extreme animosity towards him over that alone. Since you're such a nice and polite person, those feelings are sublimated and come out in dreams. As if that isn't enough, you're also finding out that your son is a total sexual stud with a seemingly endless need to cum, and an erection that just won't quit. If you add that all up, I'd say it's almost inevitable that you'd dream about him cuckolding Ron. You're letting out your desire for revenge in a harmless way, through dreams. If I were a psychologist, I wouldn't be worried that you're having dreams like that; I'd be more worried if you WEREN'T having dreams like that."

"Really?! Really truly? How do you figure?"

"Susan, what is the purpose of a dream? They serve many purposes, but one is to sort of straighten out our emotional knots while we're sleeping. You know, some other societies take dreams a lot more seriously than we do, and they put them to good use." She brought up a real example that served her purposes nicely. "I read about this one tribe on some Pacific Island that has virtually no murder or violent crime. You know how they do it?"

"How?"

"When a person has a problem, he or she goes to the shaman and describes it. The shaman then tells that person to act out their violent impulses in dreams. They do, and as a result they lose the urge to do it in real life. It's the same in your dream. Of course you're not going to blow Sweetie at the breakfast table while Ron is reading the newspaper. That's just absurd. You're going to blow him elsewhere, when Ron is not around. Repeatedly. Daily. But for a variety of reasons, most especially your husband's cheating, but also his very serious and prolonged neglect and indifference towards your marriage, you have this fantasy of doing it right there in his presence. So I say, you need to have MORE dreams and fantasies like that. Let all those poisonous feelings OUT, like lancing a boil!"

"Really? So you're saying the dream was a good thing? I'm not a horrible sinner and despicable wife?"

"Of course not. You're the nicest, kindest person I know. This is just a phase you're going through. It's a good and necessary thing."

"Should I talk to Ron about it?"

"Dear God, no! Just like all your assistance in giving Sweetie handjobs and blowjobs, what Ron doesn't know won't hurt him."

"But I'm confused. If I were to do those kinds of things, doesn't that mean I really AM cuckolding him?"

"Not at all! Because Alan is your son, and it's for medically necessary reasons. Context is everything."

"But... It still feels wrong and sinful. The truth is, I rarely even think about those medical reasons anymore. I think about doing it just for the sake of doing it! Sometimes, I find myself... salivating... just thinking about doing it! Isn't that disgusting?"

"Susan, that's natural too. The more you enjoy it, the better off everyone will be. Would you prefer hating it? Does that make any sense, to want to hate it?"

"Well, no, not exactly... But what about if I have these same kinds of ideas and fantasies when I'm awake, like in a daydream? For instance, I have to admit I got pretty aroused just when I was describing the dream to you." She guiltily looked down at her still cummy hand. She'd wiped it against the sheets, but hadn't gotten everything.

Suzanne replied, "I'm not surprised. I got all hot and bothered just hearing about it. The thing is, you're learning you have a very sexually virile and well-hung son. You're trying to figure out, 'How do I square my new role as obedient, always wet and ready, big-titted cock stroker and cocksucker for my strong and demanding son with my old role as faithful wife to my nice but sexually weak and poorly endowed husband?' Am I correct?"

"Well, that sounds harsh, and rather vulgar. But if you put it that way, I suppose there's maybe some-"

Suzanne cut her off. "Okay, then. Naturally, you're going to be in an emotional jumble making that kind of transition. Add to that your unusually strict and conservative upbringing, and it's no surprise that you're having fevered and bizarre dreams. But it will pass."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I took a class called 'Understanding Dreams' in college. Do you remember me telling you about that?"

Susan did remember. "Yeah."

"You see then? This is all basic stuff and very common. Don't worry!"

"And what about this strange submissive aspect? In my dream, I called myself his toy. I think Angel called me his sexual plaything too. Now, you have to admit THAT is messed up. Right?"

"Actually, no. When a woman comes into close contact with a naturally superior, well-endowed male like your son is, it's common to have feelings of submissiveness. It's instinctual for a female to want to please her mate, and the more desirable the mate, the more she wants to please him. Don't worry; you'll get used to it."

Suzanne thought, I'm really laying it on thick, constantly talking Sweetie up to be the world's greatest super stud. And not only that, but I feel like I'm setting women's liberation back a couple hundred years. But hey, I know which of her buttons to press, and that kind of talk will get her wet every time.

Sure enough, Susan's voice was growing increasingly ragged. "Do you mean Tiger is my mate?"

"For the limited purposes of you regularly stroking and sucking him to orgasmic satisfaction, then yes."

Susan let out a sexy groan. "Oh God! I don't know... That sounds so improper... So what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, I think the more you resist your new role with helping him, the longer you're going to remain in an emotionally conflicted state. I suggest you put more effort into giving him visual stimulation, and also tactile stimulation as soon as you're ready for it."

Susan griped, "Awww. Does that mean I have to wear high heels more often?"

"You know it does. When your feet hurt, just remember how good it feels when his cock stretches your mouth wide open."

Susan let out a sexy moan. She was frustrated that it had been so long she could hardly remember how that felt.

Sensing victory, Suzanne's talk grew more blatant. "I could really use the help, you know. My hands and mouth get tired stroking and sucking, up and down and up and down, over and over. It just seems to never end, all that jacking and licking and guzzling of yummy cum. I get downright exhausted!"

Susan's heart beat faster. "But what about Ron? I mean, he's a good husband. I like him a lot."

"Is he? Ron, the 'gone all but a few weeks out of the year while he sleeps around in skanky old Thailand' Ron? That Ron? And I noticed you say you 'like him a lot,' not that you love him with every fiber of your being. What happened to love?"

That hit Susan hard. She didn't know how to respond.

Suzanne's voice grew more commanding and insistent. "The fact is, your marriage is in disrepair. You've done all you could and been a model housewife, almost too good a housewife. I keep telling you, you don't need to act like a servant. Well, at least not to Ron."

She thought about how hard she should push Susan's submissive tendencies, and decided not to run with the servant idea, at least for now. "But in any case, his absence, neglect, and cheating have brought things to a crisis point. But now is not the time to act. Not quite. As I keep saying, wait until we get the results about STDs as a first step. We got the blood sample from him using the ruse about him needing a physical, which is good. That was clever of you. Now we have to wait for the results to come in. Your marital problems have been so long in coming that waiting a little longer will make no difference."

Susan was indecisive. "Well..."

"And in the meantime, keep having your funky, bizarre dreams and fantasies! Seriously. Think of it as lancing a mental boil, just like what those Pacific Islanders do. The more you do it, the more you picture yourself sexually assisting your son, the better. Just continue to keep me in the loop, and especially tell me everything you can remember about your dreams. If they start to turn into something you should actually worry about, I'll let you know."

"Okay. I'll try that. And I guess I'll just wait with seriously talking to Ron. But as far as Tiger goes, I'm too weirded out to be able to help you with his daily target anytime soon, I think. I mean, my feelings for him are so strong. Too strong. I think a cooling off period can only be a good thing. Not to mention, Ron won't be here that long. This is just a short and unexpected trip for him, so I should hold out at least until he leaves. Regardless of the medical reasons, it's just basic respect to not do it when he's here."

Suzanne shrugged. She actually was impressed at Susan's attempt to remain at least somewhat loyal to Ron, even if it was misguided. "Suit yourself, then. But don't be surprised if other women pick up some of the slack in your absence. Six times a day is just too much for any one woman, and my jaw and hands are about to fall off!"

That upset Susan. "Like, who?!"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just saying things happen sometimes."

The phone call wound down after some more chit-chat and eventually came to an end.

When it was over, Suzanne sat in her office practically bursting with delight. I'd say that call went well! Hee-hee-hee! I'll admit I do feel kind of bad about all but brainwashing Susan with my advice, but it's for her own good. She was brainwashed before with her prudish ways, and breaking all those years of religious mumbo-jumbo requires some pretty powerful counter-programming. Soon all of us will be living in a sexual heaven on Earth, just as soon as we can break down all of her mental walls and Ron takes a hike!

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