"Oh!” she squealed as pleasure bolted through her. She looked down and saw the top of Beau's head, his shiny, long hair. She could see his mouth on her, feel the rasp of his beard against her sensitive skin.

His hand was dark against the creamy skin of her breast. The sight of his lips on her and the feeling of his tongue and teeth urgently suckling her, were incredibly erotic.

And I just met him five minutes ago, she thought.

"This dream is amazing,” she gasped.

"It is,” Beau breathed, and he moved to her other breast. This time she could feel the air cooling her wet left nipple as he attacked her right one, and it was as if he was licking both of them at once.

She'd never known it would be so exquisite. But it wasn't enough. Cassandra's hands itched to touch Beau. She had a sudden flash of imagining what it would be like to hold his hot, hard rod in the palm of her hand.

She knew what a penis looked like, of course. She'd seen pictures and movies and read descriptions; this was the twenty-first century, after all.

But she'd never before imagined the feeling of one so much that she could actually feel it, hot and throbbing and alive in her hand. There would be hair at the base of it. Would it be coarse, like the hair between her own legs, or would it be soft and silky, like the hair on Beau's head? She let her hand drop to the top of his head and tangled her fingers in the strands.

She pulled him up to kiss her again and this time she was the one who thrust her tongue inside his mouth, her whose hands were fumbling with his clothes. She tried to undo his belt buckle but the angle was unfamiliar, and she tugged without any result.

"Let me do it,” Beau mumbled, and he took one of his hands away from her breasts, the other one still squeezing her. With a deft movement he unfastened his jeans and kicked them and his boxers down his legs, and his cock leapt into her hand.

Even with all her anticipation she was unprepared for how he felt: his length, his girth, his hardness and the softness of his skin. Beau groaned and pushed his penis into the tunnel of her palm. She squeezed him experimentally.

"Darlin', that feels so good.” He pushed against her, and she stroked him. She should stop, look down, experience this moment fully. She shouldn't rush this. She—she shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

He was so big. So strange, so new.

She wanted him inside her. Penetrating her. Fucking her.

Another melting wave of lust shot through her. Cassandra raised her leg and wrapped it around his hip.

His firm thigh rubbed against her pussy through her underwear and she nearly cried out in pleasure. Who knew this would be so amazing?

"Jesus, Cassie,” he growled into her ear. He grabbed her ass with both hands and slammed her up against the wall of the tube. She barely had time to gasp with shock and desire before he'd torn off her underwear like he'd torn her nightgown and she felt the hot head of his dick between her legs, probing at her entrance.

"Please,” she whimpered. “Now. F—fuck me."

This was some dream. There was no way on Earth she would say those words aloud in real life. Or that she would dig her nails into a man's ass, driving him forward, into her.

With an inarticulate cry Beau thrust forward, plunging his cock into her up to the hilt.

Pain blossomed inside her and she screamed, surprised and shocked and thrilled. Even as she panted in a breath the pain had turned to pure, burning pleasure.

And yet Beau had stopped. She turned wide eyes to his face and saw him, jaw clenched, sweat sheening his face with the effort of his restraint.

"Are you all right?” he gritted.

"More,” she answered him.

"I don't want to—"

She clenched her legs around him. And other muscles, inner muscles she'd never felt before.

"I want you to,” she said.

He let out a strangled groan and began pumping into her wildly. Every thrust rubbed her even hotter. She could hear the wet sound of him sliding in and out of her. The desperate sound of them kissing each other. The tube was full of a scent she'd never smelled before, something musky and enticing, the smell of sex.

She loved it.

Beau tilted her hips and she felt him stretching her in another way, felt the hard ridge of his cock rubbing against a spot deep up inside her, and his groin and abdomen grinding a spot outside of her, and everything was suddenly much much better , incredible as it seemed. He pounded into her, long and strong and relentless, his breath coming in short sharp gasps. Every movement was more pleasurable than the last.

"Oh hell Cassie, you're so wet and tight,” Beau muttered against her, never slackening the hard, even pace of his thrusts. “Come. Please come, I need to feel you."

Come where? she thought dazedly, until some far-flung rational part of her mind said Oh, he means have an orgasm. No sooner had she thought it than the fringes of her mind began to melt and blur and her body began to tremble.

She couldn't bear it. Stop. Don't stop. Cassandra arched back against the blue glass tube and closed her eyes and thrashed her head back and forth. This wasn't like the orgasms she'd had before, from her fingers, centered on her clitoris. This was everywhere, burning every inch of her skin and swelling through her whole body and mind. She dug her nails even deeper into Beau's flesh and felt her body slamming into orbit, out of control, faster, too fast.

She screamed. Her body convulsed around him.

Beau roared and thrust into her one last time, powerfully enough to drive her hips hard against the tube.

The tube shuddered and Beau jerked inside her. She felt a jet of heat and saw him grimace with pleasure.

He held her there, pinned against the glass wall, for several moments while they both just breathed.