It was the Dream again - the one where Cordelia Chase was really a Princess in a fairy-tale land, but also a brave adventuress (unknown to all but a select few). Last time she had been in her bed-chamber, with her closest friend, Diamara, elf and magic-caster. Except that Diamara had looked (and sounded) like Willow Rosenberg (Cordelia couldn't say whether the taste was the same, since in real life they'd never . ). But in the dream they had done The Thing. Several times.
This time Cordelia was in the forest, dressed in adventuring gear (which equated to the totally buff hiking pants she'd seen in the really expensive window of the Adventure Club shop on DePaul, and a multi-pocketed short-sleeved top). And boots, except they were more like Ren Faire buskin-things, that just slipped on. She was there with Diamara, who still looked like Willow, and was dressed in a skin-tight top that emphasised her full proud breasts and exposed them almost down to the nipples when looked at from a certain angle, and little shorts that seemed to clasp her elfin butt, but were cut scandalously wide in the front, so that they almost seemed to draw attention to . no, Princesses (even of the bold adventuring persuasion) were not meant to let their thoughts go there.
"My Lady, we must rest."
And with them was Merithraea, the handmaiden from the Castle who also kept Princess Cordelia's secret. She wore a version of the Castle guards' uniform, with a blue jacket over a white blouse, and black pants and boots. She had long blonde hair and a catalogue model's figure, and Cordelia was aware that she ought to know who she was in Real Life, but .
"A . all right," she assented, and looked round the tree-girt glade in which they stood.
"My people have a village not far from here," Diamara said, and proceeded to lead the way through the undergrowth, her cute ass wiggling saucily. Cordelia followed, with Merithraea bringing up the rear. So, when suddenly Cordy was pounced on from behind, and a cloth thrown over her, she was taken completely by surprise.
When she awoke she was lying on a rough bed of boughs, with a simple foliage-woven bower around her and over her head. She raised her head slightly, cautiously, in case her captors were watching, and then, about ten feet away, saw Merithraea, also laying on a bough-bed, her jacket open and her blouse unbuttoned down to her waist.
Cordelia found herself instantly aware that Merithraea was obviously bra-less. She searched her memory, but couldn't recall whether that was "normal" in her dream-world. Of course, since she'd started to dream herself a Princess when she was only about six, and had lost track of the dreams at about twelve, she wasn't certain if that had ever been an established factor.
In the first of her adult dreams (the one with Diamara and herself), her elf-friend had been bra-less (like today), but Cordy had worn one (for a while), but then again, she had been changing into her court dress.
She made a subtle flexion, and noticed that she was naked under her top (though her clothes didn't seem to have been disarranged). Then she noticed that there was no sign of Diamara. So, what had been going on ? She was about to get up, go to see if Merithraea could be roused, go to see what she could about where they were, if there was any clue to Diamara's whereabouts, when she heard foot steps.
At once, working on adventurer's instinct, she lay back down on the bed (or whatever its proper name was - how was she to know . they hadn't had things like this in Sunnydale - unless you counted the "Indian Camp" Ruth Gillway's brother had tried to get her to go to when she'd been fifteen). The same instinct held her motionless as, through artfully half-closed eyes, she saw Diamara come in, and go over to Merithraea. She also managed to keep her reactions under control when she saw that Diamara was now just wearing what mundane-Cordy would have called a sun-dress - except that it was cut so as to leave most of her breasts uncovered and to leave her full, pouting, (and, Cordelia noticed, visibly moist) lips exposed.
Diamara brushed her hands and then her mouth across Merithraea's naked nipples, bringing a gasp to the handmaiden as she awoke slightly, and causing the nipples to swell and colour. Then she turned to Cordelia and repeated the actions, through her shirt. Cordy fought back a moan at the sensual surge the caresses sent through her, but she could not stop her body's reaction, nor the tingling they set up elsewhere. Her mind flashed over their previous tryst and she had to exert her will power not to pull Diamara down into a close and more intimate embrace. Indeed, she had just about reached the limit of her endurance, and was starting to imagine ways of pushing Diamara's endurance to the limit as quickly as possible, when the elf-girl withdrew and went back over to Merithraea.
Then another figure came into Cordelia's view - although it took a fast double-check to satisfy her that Diamara had not simply, and by magic, changed her clothes. The appearance was almost identical - almost. If it were possible (and the evidence was there before Cordelia's eyes), this Diamara had even slightly larger breasts than her original, which jiggled slightly under a top made of thin straps which centred on little gold rings poised round big, swollen nipples. And, lest that monopolised attention, all else she seemed to wear was a miniscule thong that did noting to hide the thatch of red-copper hair at the juncture of her long, slim legs.
And, seeing Cordelia spread out like a dish for delectation, the new-Diamara licked her lips. "Interested, now," she said, in an exact duplication of the original's voice (which mundane-Cordy knew was exactly that of Willow Rosenberg, whatever significance that had).
She reached down and, in one motion, tore the top from Cordelia's body. "Mmm: scrummy," she said. Then she threw herself down beside Cordelia and started to kiss her passionately.
Belatedly Cordy managed to catch up, just in time to prevent her lips being forced apart by a forceful tongue. Her breasts had still been sensitised from the caresses Diamara had given them, but now they swelled even more, as the newcomer trailed her erect nipples across Cordelia's own. Then their bodies parted for a moment, and Cordelia felt a tug on her hiking pants.
Driven half by her unconscious and half by open lust, she lifted her hips to assist in the removal of the garment, and then gripped the couch beneath her, as the Diamara look-alike plunged her head down, onto the tiny scrap of fabric which was all Cordelia still had on, and proceeded almost to eat it off her body, sending frenzied pre-orgasmic surges through Cordy's personal space and causing her to throw her head back and cry out.
Then, under this relentless and sudden onslaught, she felt the moisture of her arousal start to flow, and heard the murmur of satisfaction from her new lover. Stars started to blossom behind her eyelids as her g-string was torn aside and her labia probed and parted and then her clit bathed and caressed by a long, limber tongue that knew just how to arouse her, just where to go for the maximum effect.
She heard Merithraea cry out as well and, at some deep instinctual level, knew that she, too, was in the throes of climactic passion. Indeed the knowledge that, scant feet away, another was enjoying similar attentions, went a long way towards sending her over the edge, and the rest was done for her by that tongue, and by fingers which drove into her at the exact angle for which her body was hungering.
Heaven opened for her, and then, little by little she began to descend again, towards the bed of boughs and the creature who had just so successfully ravished her . and who, Cordy, disbelieving, now realised, was already starting to caress her again, keeping the fires of incredible arousal alive, coaxing her body into starting over on the dance it had only just this instant finished. And, really, that was not something Cordelia could, or would prevent. If her body could stand it, her spirit was ready to try - after all, there was always room for a little more ecstasy in life, even in a dream.