Everyone had left my sick room.

I felt numb. Part of that was assuredly the head wound. My neck was sore and swollen, I could even feel it through the brace that Lauria had placed around my neck after I complained of the pain.

The item was one of dozens on board the ship that was in very high demand at the moment. Despite our best effort, Cal and I had not been perfect quartermasters for the journey. I had resisted asking if my brace had been taken from any one who also needed it.

I felt myself drifting.

The combination of stress, pain, guilt, and exhaustion took its toll and I woke immediately into the dream.

****

Gods it was good to be back.

I woke in the sunroom. I was laying on my back, and as I opened my eyes I see the early morning sun rising across above the horizon.

Swiftly moving clouds swirled calico patterns of dappled light across the ceiling. Birds sang vital songs through the windows of my little room.

I woke into the dream with an erection that was bigger than the one I sported in my waking life. Bigger in every capacity, girth, length, and veiny vigor. My unconscious mind conjured my heart’s desire as it often does in my dreams. I sat up but didn't touch my erect member.

I walked through the door on the left to wash my hands, as gentleman should always before they lay with another. I splashed my dick and let the soap sud for 20 seconds. It flexed and tensed, eager for the climax that was to follow.

I turned back and walked through the dream's bedroom into the office and library that abutted it.

I seized the back of the plush chair facing the front of the desk and turned it around, learning the back against the desk for support.

I settled onto the seat and waited, naked. Taking a few deep breaths, I shut my eyes and called out that I was ready.

I heard another door open, and though I didn’t open my eyes, I could see in my mind’s eye a parade of nude and nearly nude women standing at the door, 3 filed in and called out to him, each in their own way. One called out to my cock, calling it magnificent and bold.

I felt soft skin pressing against the inside of my thighs just before the brush of her breasts against my face and body. She maintained contact as she dropped down to her knees and wrapped her breasts around my throbbing member.

One called out to my head, jumping behind me onto the chair and cradling my head on her breasts, gently welcoming me home and thanking me for my service. She implored me to lean back and relax.

I did, relaxing into her flesh and releasing pounds of tension from the muscles in my back. That effort was aided by the kneading of her fingers.

The final woman called to my right hand, she gripped it in her own and massaged it gently. She thanked it for the dispensation of my will. Then she pulled first one of his fingers into her mouth, then two. Though I couldn’t se it, she began moaning gently around the two fingers she was sucking. I felt one of her hand leave my own and her moaning intensified. She must have taken it down to her own clit.

"Tom", the kneeling woman spoke to me breathily. "I am going to fuck you now. I do this of my own consent. I hope you find incredible pleasure and release in this moment."

She lifted my lift hand to her hip so I could feel her turn. I felt her hand on my me as lowered herself onto me. I could feel that she was bent over so she could see each centimeter of me disappearing into her. She groaned with pleasure as she herself to slip down a bit at a time before rising again without allowing my dick to fully slip out of her. Each time she rose back up I felt a breeze brush the glistening wetness she had deposited on my shaft. Pressing with her hands against my knees and her legs against the floor, she rode me at an accelerating pace, soon shifting one hand to herself to apply her own pressure and heighten the depths of the pleasure we were experiencing.

Her rhythmic and passionate exertions led to their natural conclusion. Gulping air as she climaxed, she felt my spasm too-- a single eruption deep inside her, matching her own muscles clenching in ecstasy. Clenching hard to stop any further ejaculation, I felt the orgasm seize my whole body. I refused to release the tension I was holding in my muscles, not wanting to allow any more of my vital fluid to escape.

Her legs stopped supporting her weight and my penetration pressed deep inside her.

I felt my first glimpse of eternity since waking in the dream.

Though my eyes were still shut, I heard her whispered gratitude as she eased herself off of me and the slightly unbalanced tread of her feet leaving the room. At the same time, I heard other footfalls as the next claimant walked up to the three of us who remained. I felt her soft hands take hold of my left as the woman on my right stepped across my open right leg to assume the position vacated by the first angel in a woman’s form.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

My dick, though slightly reduced by my first orgasm and the subsequent withholding of my ejaculate was still hard enough to slip inside the woman who had sucked my fingers. The wet warm embrace she offered me swiftly returned his member to it's former erect glory.

I could sense she was near orgasm herself, probably from earlier self-play. She took my hand, still wet from her mouth, wrapping my arm around her slim waist and pressed my fingers to engorged mass of her sex. She held it there as she rode me. A moment after the I felt her tell-tale muscles clench in orgasm came I felt myself come with her, pulsing my seed inside her a single time before I again clamped down on my member, willing it to remain erect for the next women whose heads I was sure were poking through the door.

In my finest state I might have three more orgasms in the tank. Three more women whose bliss I could take part in creating. There were now more women crowding around my seated form. I felt soft and eager fingers stroking me on my neck, my abs, and my ears. In the hazy cloud of my orgasms I surrendered to the ministrations of these magnificent women and let the glut of sensation flood my brain.

My attention focused when she slid her womanhood on to me. With the tightest grip of any of the women yet to have their way with me, she pulled a moan from my lips. The sensation changed as she pushed my hand away and leaned over. When she began to twerk, I grew harder inside her and felt my eyes flutter open to see her smirking and looking back over her shoulder.

Upon seeing my eyes, the woman gloated as she stepped off and spun to face me, sinking on to me again and bringing her face to mine. She wrapped her legs around my waist with effortless flexibility and began to writhe her hips, head down watching our bodies unite.

She looked up and our eyes met for the second time. Hers were brown so dark as to be nearly black; her pupils were ringed by a golden fractal band. They were hungry.

I took one of my hands and found her clit with my thumb, my fingers pressing up her abdomen, gently writing words of virtue until her joyful release.

My own swiftly followed.

We gasped, kissing each as we clung to each other and I emptied myself inside her, spent.

I closed my eyes and breathed for a time with her still wrapped around me like an erotic pretzel, barely aware of my limbs shaking and of the hands massaging my arms, shoulders, and legs.

Gradually my senses settled and I heard quiet whispers thanking me for my gifts and assuring me the satisfaction had been mutual.

I murmured my own gratitude, half-dozing within the dream.

****

In a few minutes, I rose to find myself alone and went back to the bathroom. I stepped into the shower and lathered myself with a layer of soap. Time slowed down under the ministrations of the lukewarm water.

Eventually, I emerged and wrapped myself in a robe. I took another door from the bedroom, leading into the hallway. I took a few confident steps before emerging into a small courtyard with three seats.

I glanced at the old man who was waiting there. Wearing a light linen suit with the top buttons undone, he glanced up at me before returning to the paper he was reading.

I asked simply. "I do love the welcome party, but is it strictly necessary?"

The old man responded. "No, not at all. The women insist. They say a soldier should be rewarded for his service and a king protected from his passions."

I twisted the shirt in my arms, feeling the fine texture of the woven fibers between his fingers. "I am no king." I said firmly and quietly. He did not respond.

Louder, I spoke again. "It is still hard to believe that my dreams bring me here so often." I chuckled, "A bit less so when you consider the reception."

The old man set the paper down and turned to Tom with a look of exasperation on his face. "You still aren't convinced this is real. Even after all this time and all the steps we have taken together, you still think this is only a dream." The man rapped the table sharply for emphasis as he continued "You doubt all who you meet here, thinking them nothing more than summons of your unconscious."

I spoke idly, "How could a test undertaken in the dream change baseline reality?” Without rancor, I continued. “I am asleep in a hospital bed on a space-faring skyscraper, now I am dreaming of an island orgy. That I’ve dreamt of this island before doesn’t change the fact that I know I am dreaming."

“Sure Tom, sure.” The old man spoke idly, tired of the same argument. The man had tried every measure he could think of to convince me that they were sharing a dream, astrally projected into a stable realm. He had tried showing me DNA tests from the women I ‘impregnated’ here.

The first time he told me about my ‘children’ I laughed. The second I had… what had I done? Thinking back I could remember some action taken, but not exactly what it had been. Lucid dreams’ internal memory escaped me sometimes.

Despite my comments the old man looked at me fondly; I was leaning back in a chair sipping a drink that had appeared fully made in my hand. A few trips before the man had asked me for a sip of my drink, only to find that it transformed into his own drink of choice: a mixture of ginger tea with lemon and his own favorite bottle of single malt whiskey.

I remembered his smile, pleased to learn new things about the ‘realm into which he was currently projected.’ I snorted: a dream is not a realm.

The man had told me that this place was a step up from his normal reality, paralyzed and confined to a hospital bed. I remember his saying that ‘sipping his heart’s beverage under a temperate bungalow was a vastly more pleasant way to spend his time than struggling to be patient with the kind people who changed his diapers and wiped his ass. It’s amazing the details my subconscious can summon.

My dreams never stayed this peaceful for long, though. Almost on cue, the man said, “Tom, it has been a few months since you joined us here, and a lot has happened.” He had worried the paper into a tight roll, and as I looked at him, I saw a tension that he was holding under the surface.

He spoke. “Tom, I’m sorry, I know you come to this place for peace in the storm,” I listened as he sighed deeply. “The storm isn’t far from here and my job, today, is to help you remember.”

I set the rolled up paper down on the table next to his drink. “I’m sorry for that.”