Wilma and the Vorvon

(Space Vampire Part II)

By Raven11803

 

Buck Rogers, Wilma Deering, Dr. Huer, Twiki, Dr. Theopolis, Royko, the Vorvon, and all related situations  are the copyright property of Universal Studios.  This story is not a challenge to the legal copyright of the owners. 

 

This story is a work of fiction. No money was paid for the creation of this story.  It is a fan fiction and not for resale or to be used on a website for pay.  

 

This is a work of fiction. No characters in this story are based on real people. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. All characters are over the legal age of consent.

 

This is an adult story. Children should not read this material.

 

This story is meant as an erotic fan-fiction sequel to the classic Buck Roger’s episode entitled “Space Vampire.”  In the original story, a space vampire or “Vorvon” drains the energy from the crew of a ship which then crashes into Space Station Theta.  The Vorvon then begins moving throughout the space station finding victims, and draining their life force.  All the while, he continuously stalks Col. Wilma Deering, played by the lovely Erin Gray.  He tells her that if she offers herself to him freely, he will spare the lives of Buck Rogers and the rest of the crew.  Reluctantly, she agrees.  In the end, she flees with the Vorvon in a stolen space craft, but Buck has secretly pre-programmed it to fly directly into the sun.  As the ship approaches the sun, the Vorvon’s hypnotic hold over Wilma is weakened, and she manages to escape in an escape pod. 

 

This was a surprisingly good episode for an otherwise hokey TV series.  The beautiful and talented Erin Gray is finally given a chance to shine in center stage.  The story is filled with nice tension and sensuality that is present in all the best vampire stories. 

 

Instead of biting his victims like a vampire, the Vorvon, places his fingers around the throat of his intended victim in order to drain their essence.  To me, the scene in which Wilma submits to the Vorvon was always very sensual and sexual, perhaps even more so than the traditional bite of the vampire.  The story below is a sequel, occurring several months, or perhaps even a year after the events of the original episode.

 

Wilma and the Vorvon

(Space Vampire Part II)

 

 

“How could any creature deliver such intense unyielding pleasure?” Wilma wondered as the Vorvon’s trance electrified her body with ever-increasing levels of pure sexual delight.  As Wilma submitted to yet another pleasuring, she tipped her head back, exposed her slender neck to him, and offered herself up to his humiliating domination yet again.  As his sharp fingernails found her throat, he slowly began to drain her life force, but in exchange, the attack rewarded her with a mind-warping series of intensely intimate and sensual sensations, which filled her with feelings of both delight and dread.  Wilma surrendered herself to the moment, and seconds later she was gasping in the desperate throes of a steadily approaching climax. 

 

“If I allow you your release, will you welcome me to your bed?” the Vorvon asked, pulling her tighter in his grip.

 

After a moment of terrifying doubt, Wilma succumbed to her body’s needs, and answered,

“Oh, y-yessss, . . . I will. . .” 

 

“Yessssssss,” the Vorvon responded, and with that, the energy flow into Wilma’s body intensified to levels beyond her comprehension.

 

*****  

6 hours earlier. . .   It was another beautiful day at the headquarters of the Earth Defense Directorate, as Colonel Wilma Deering and Captain William “Buck” Rogers walked along a wide immaculately clean corridor, toward Launch Bay One.  Buck was dressed in his white flight suit, and Wilma was dressed in one of her close-fitting “off-duty” outfits.  It was shiny blue, and clung temptingly to her every curve. 

 

As they walked along, Buck secretly marveled at Wilma’s perfect physique and at her spectacularly revealing attire.  Like most men and women in the 25th century, Wilma was remarkably fit.  Outfits like the one she was wearing today, left no doubt as to that fact, and yet Wilma wore her showy revealing attire with absolute confidence as though she were wearing the most conservative smock available.  It was one thing that Buck would never get used to about the 25th century, . . . an entire galaxy of beautiful tightly clad women.  Advances in diet and healthcare since Buck’s time had finally achieved a remarkable feat, an entire galaxy of truly healthy fit people.  And Wilma was a prime example.  What’s more, one unforeseen side effect of having a population which had achieved nearly universal fitness, was that the competition to attract the opposite sex had grown ever more fierce, so more and more revealing attire had simply become the trend of the day.  And with everyone in phenomenal condition, no one had to feel particularly self conscious about their flaws, because there just weren’t any.  Any way that he looked at it, it was a good thing, and something that Buck promised himself that he would never take for granted. 

 

As he admired the long lean limbs of his best friend and wingman Colonel Wilma Deering, Buck wondered, as he had many times before, why his relationship with this woman had never gotten more romantic.  Any man with a pulse would be attracted to her, but Buck knew her better than anyone.  As a wingman, a partner, and a friend, Wilma had no equal.  Honest, smart, faithful, caring, generous, and witty, Wilma had it all.  And the chemistry between them was infamous, but somehow their friendship had never moved to that “next level.”  It was a situation that Buck  always meant to correct, but something always seems to get him off track.         

 

“So how long do you think the negotiations will take?” Wilma asked of her long-time friend, and wingman.   

 

“Well, you know the Centaurians and the Tauntians as well as I do, Wilma.  They’re very thorough about everything,” Buck responded with a smile.  After placing his palm on the sensor panel, the large doors to the launch bay opened, and the two friends entered the busy flight deck.  “Plus, they’ve been arguing over the rights to this asteroid field for over a 1000 years, . . . so it could take a while.” 

 

“Yes, but with you there to help, I’d imagine you’ll have the border dispute wrapped up by lunch time,” the beautiful young colonel replied with a twinkle in her eyes, as they approached Buck waiting fighter.   

 

Buck’s face broke out into an open smile at his friend’s humorous jab, “But seriously, the Centaurians asked for my help.  I’ll do what I can.  Honestly, I can’t imagine that I’ll be back before the end of the month.” 

 

Wilma’s face fell.  She wished her friend well on his important mission, but  a month was a long time, and she knew that the time would pass slowly without her unpredictable comrade from the 20th century to liven up her days.  Things were always better with Buck around.  Wilma considered that a “given.”  Though she had always had strong feelings toward her heroic partner, a romance between them just didn’t seem to be in the cards.  Buck’s free-wheeling spirit was a joy to behold.  It fascinated her to watch this man, and to be near him.  Through countless adventures, he had enriched her life with so much fun, kindness, and integrity.  He wasn’t like anyone that she’d ever met.  Seeing him in action through the years, Wilma had always wanted to get closer, but had always been reluctant to tie him down to a committed relationship.  So she had always made the most of their time together as friends.  To learn that he would be gone for the better part of a month, hit her with a wave of disappointment that was stronger than she had anticipated.  To make matters worse, Dr. Huer, and Dr. Theopolous had already left for Centauri a week ago. 

 

“Don’t worry, Wilma” Buck said encouragingly. “Twiki will help you keep an eye on things while we’re gone.” 

 

“That’s a comfort,” she replied unconvincingly.  Despite his annoying banter, the wisecracking robot was fun to have around, but his conversational skills were sorely lacking.

 

Sensing the disappointment in his friend, Buck tried to lighten the tone of the moment.  “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said with a warm smile.        

 

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, “now  you better get going, or you’ll be late, and if I remember correctly, the Centaurians are notoriously impatient!” 

 

“Y’know, you’re right!  I’d hate to incur the wrath of the Centaurian Queen!” Buck chuckled, as he feigned a hurried panic, hastening his pace, and scrambling into his waiting starfighter, and hurriedly putting his helmet on.  As his weight hit the flight seat, Buck’s starfighter completed one last automated pre-flight diagnostic checklist, and quickly registered an “All clear” status. 

 

Just then, the echoey automated voice sounded throughout the flight deck, “STARFIGHTER ONE, CLEARED FOR LAUNCH.  ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE STAND CLEAR FOR LAUNCH. ”       

 

“Take care of yourself,” she admonished him, as she stepped back behind the blue safety line on the launch bay floor.

 

“I will.  And you do the same,” he offered warmly, as the sleek canopy of his starfighter closed over him.  Then pressing the launch button on his control stick, he activated the magnetic launch sequence, and his fighter hurtled forward through the launch tube, and into the depths of space. 

 

As Buck’s ship receded out of sight, Wilma struggled to fight off a growing wave of disappointment.  “Perhaps,” she thought hopefully, “something interesting will come up while he’s gone, and the time will just fly by.”  And with that she turned on her heels and strode back toward her office. 

 

As she did, a small flickering red light emerged unseen from the space freighter behind her, and moving slowly low along the flight deck, it began to follow Wilma. 

 

Though unseen by human eyes, and undetected by any of the advanced automated sensor systems at the Earth Defense Directorate facility, a presence was, in fact, shadowing Colonel Deering, . . . following her, . . . hovering just above and behind her.  Through a red flickering otherworldly light, it watched her as if looking through a red filter.  It gazed at her sleek sensuous vulnerable form as she walked along the corridor.  How alone she looked walking along, shivering in the chilly hallway.   How fragile she was, and yet . . . so full of life. . .      

 

****

 

On the way to her office, Wilma had a change of heart.  A strange weight had seemed to overcome her just as Buck had departed, and a strange chill.  Perhaps her feelings of loneliness were more profound than she had at first thought, or . . . perhaps it was something else.  Either way, she decided that she was too tired to review the latest set of fighter recon reports today.  The brass would have to wait until tomorrow for her assessments. 

 

Right now, she needed a break, and so she strode back to the sanctuary of her own quarters in the Earth Defense Directorate main compound.  In moments she was there.  Pressing her hand to the identi-scanner, she waited a moment as the system confirmed her identity, and the large white door slid open with a “swish.” 

 

As the automated door closed behind her, a strange flickering red light followed just behind her, unnoticed.  Settling her sleek Lycra-clad form on the bed, she reclined sensuously across the length of it, closing her eyes.  As she relaxed there, she thought she heard a faint flickering, fluttering sound.  Or was she just imagining it?  Opening her eyes now to look around, she was startled to see a growing red ball of energy flickering near the floor in her room. 

 

In a breathtaking heartbeat, she gasped as the glimmer of recognition dawned in her head.  She has seen this energy distortion before, on Space Station Theta, from a dark chapter in her history, one that she had tried very hard to forget.  As she sat upright in bed, the red glow transformed before her eyes, into the shape of a ghastly creature, well over 6 feet tall.  It was a nightmare from her past, it was . . . a Vorvon. 

 

Visions of the nightmarish exchange with the bizarre, almost supernatural creature from a year before on Space Station Theta flashed through Wilma’s mind like lightning.  In an instant, she recalled how she, and Buck, and her old friend Commander Royko, had battled the strange alien creature, as it had tried to drain the life from all of the inhabitants of Theta Station.  With some shame and reluctance, she remembered how she had offered to give herself freely to the creature in order to save her comrades, and how, in doing so, she had very nearly lost herself to the Vorvon’s strange hypnotic control.  

 

“W-what are you doing here?  You’re can’t be here!  You’re not real!  We killed you!” she stammered in defiance  and disbelief.  “You vampire!  Y-you Vorvon!” 

 

She continued, “I must be dreaming you.  After you drained the life from nearly everyone on Theta Station, Buck lured you into a ship with its coordinates set to fly directly into the sun!  Buck and I killed you!  You can’t be real!”

 

But the creature replied with supreme confidence, “My dear, you remember the events of that night with chilling accuracy, but you left out the most important point.  You were on that ship with me, locked on a trajectory for the sun.  You were under my power, under my control, because you had offered yourself to me in exchange for the lives of Buck and your other comrades.  But in the close proximity to the sun, I temporarily lost my control over you, and at the last moment you fled to safety with your Captain Rogers, leaving me to crash directly into the sun.  But you see, you left just before I made an escape of my own.  Just after your hasty departure, I reverted to my pure energy state, and fled the area.  In time, I found sanctuary on a derelict ship.  In this ship, I floated in deep space for months, slowly nursing my wounds and gathering my strength.  Eventually, the ship was collected by a salvage team, . . . a team who’s energy I naturally drained.  Their essence went a long way toward restoring me to my full strength, but I still needed more.  So, over the months I made my way inconspicuously through the galaxy, gathering life energy, and building up my strength.  But once my survival was no longer in question, I proceeded with only one real goal. . . to track you down and to finish the job that I started.” 

 

“You see, I upheld my end of the bargain.  I left Buck and Royko alone.  I spared them, but only in exchange for you.  And you, my dear, reneged.  Now I’m here to finish collecting my payment.”         

 

“You want to kill me?” Wilma asked resignedly. 

 

“No,” replied the Vorvon.  “What I want is your essence.”

 

“I - I don’t understand.”

 

“No, of course you don’t.  It is beyond understanding.  You must experience it.  The last time we met, I began the process of sampling your essence.  Now I plan to finish the job.  All that you need do is to submit to me.  It is useless for you to resist.  You MUST submit . . . Do it for your friends. . .”

 

Reluctantly Wilma rose from her reclined position, knowing, as she did before, that she must submit in order to save her friends.  As she approached, she stood before the chilling Vorvon, and tilted her head back in submission to his strange energy draining technique. 

 

Responding promptly, the Vorvon extended his hand toward her slender pale throat, and gripped her neck with the sharp extended claw-like nails of his thumb and pinky finger.  Squeezing her flesh gently, he began the process, causing Wilma to gasp in submission.     

 

“That’s it, . . .  that’s it,” he encouraged her. 

 

“N-no . . . got to resist . . .” she thought in desperation, but even as she gasped in protest, Wilma recalled that the draining process, while terrifying, was also accompanied by strange powerful sensations, . . . which were not entirely unpleasant.  She felt so dirty and ashamed to be submitting in this way, but she had to save her friends . . . It was the right thing to do.  Oh, there it was again,  the old familiar pleasure was so intoxicating, and so very sweet.  How could she have forgotten how sweet the feelings had been? . . . How intense her needs had become.

 

Wilma’s sleek shapely thighs scissored as the sensations came over her, and her resistance weakened.  In moments she abandoned all hope of resisting it.  “I’m doing it for Buck,” she thought, as she gave her self over to the process.         

 

Slowly the pleasure of the Vorvon’s grip swelled within her.  What had seemed a moment ago to be abhorrent, now was undeniably powerful, sensual, . . . intoxicating.  She began breathing more and more deeply, as a smoky smouldering pleasure, and a burning need began to well up deep within her. 

 

“Oh yesssssssssss,” she gasped.     

 

“Yes, that’s it,” the Vorvon responded, as he too began to become affected by the weird energy transfer, closing his eyes in sensual satisfaction, slowly drinking in her life’s essence.  

 

Finally, at long last, a sweet pleasure began to grow and intensify between Wilma’s sleek Lycra-clad thighs, and through her long slender limbs. 

 

Soon the sensations escalated to reach a resounding crescendo between her thighs.  “Oh, God!” she cried out suddenly, and shuddered in the uncontrollable throes of intense abject ecstasy, as a torrent of hot wet fluid gushed between her legs.  For several sweet moments of unholy ecstasy she squirmed uneasily in his grip, lost in the throes of utter rapture.  Her legs were wobbly.  It seemed impossible to stand.  But somehow, for several moments of powerful abject unrelenting ecstasy, she did.  Then, when she thought that she could not stand it for another second, the Vorvon finally released his grip on her, and she fell unceremoniously to the deck.  As soon as her svelte body she hit the floor, the Vorvon was gone.   

 

“Where are you?” she whispered to the empty room.

 

 

 

From the shadows she could hear his voice, “That is only the beginning my dear.  Many hours, weeks, months, and perhaps even years of pleasuring lie ahead of you.”  My bio-shocks will keep your body in a state of extended ecstasy, while draining your of your resistance and of your life’s energy.”   And with that, Wilma slumped into a deep sleep. 

 

****

 

A few hours later, Wilma woke, and found herself feeling tired and drained, and yet somehow also surprisingly refreshed.  She rose on long unsteady legs, and leaning against a nearby counter, made her way to her wardrobe.  “How did I end up on the floor?” she wondered.  Perhaps she had feinted, or passed our from exhaustion.  As she was just about to head out to visit the flight surgeon, and eerie chill passed over Wilma. 

 

“Now, Colonel Deering, . . . offer yourself to me again.”

 

As the strange hideous image of the Vorvon creature emerged again from the shadows, Wilma’s nightmarish memories returned to her in a flash.  As his red glaring eyes peered into her soul, in a moment she knew again that resistance was a useless gesture against this abomination.  The only way to save her friends at the Earth Defense Directorate, was to offer herself to it fully . . . and of her own free will. . . 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hungrily the gloating Vorvon extended her hand and the razor-sharp nails of his fingers toward her neck.  Slowly his fingers closed around her throat like a vice, his nails depressing the tender flesh of her neck.  A moment later, the strange energy transference process began again. 

 

“Yessssssssss,” the creature groaned, visibly moved by the intoxicating sensation of having the beautiful young woman’s life energy flowing into him. 

 

As Wilma submitted to yet another pleasuring, she tipped her head back, exposed her slender neck to him, and offered herself up to his humiliating domination yet again.  As his sharp fingernails found her throat, he slowly began to drain her life force, but in exchange, the attack rewarded her with a mind-warping series of intensely intimate and sensual sensations, which filled her with feelings of both delight and dread.  How could any creature deliver such intense unyielding pleasure?” Wilma wondered as the Vorvon’s trance electrified her body with ever-increasing levels of pure sexual delight.  Wilma surrendered herself to the moment, and seconds later she was gasping in the desperate throes of yet another steadily approaching climax. 

 

“Oh, God, YESSSS YESSSSSS!!!” she cried out as the sweet approaching rapture intensified.  Desperately she yearned for the sharp intense release that she knew was only seconds away.  With teeth bared, she groaned and gasped in passionate desperation. 

 

Pulling the curvaceous colonel to his chest, the Vorvon clutched her in his arms. 

 

“Your release is so close,” he said coaxing her toward her gratifying climactic moment. 

 

“Ohhhhh YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!” she gasped.

 

“If I allow you your release, will you welcome me to your bed?” the Vorvon asked, pulling her tighter in his grip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a moment of terrifying doubt, Wilma succumbed to her body’s needs, and answered,

“Oh, y-yesss, I will. . .” 

 

“Yessssssss,” the Vorvon responded, “and so I shall. . . .”

 

With that, the energy flow into Wilma’s body intensified to levels beyond her comprehension.

 

“Unghh, Unnnnnggghhh, UUNNNNGGHH!!!” she cried out.

 

“That’s it, give yourself over to it,” the Vorvon hissed. 

 

““Unghh, Unnnnnggghhh, UUNNNNGGHH!!! AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!” she screamed as a devastating rapture detonated between her legs.  The climax shook her whole body violently, but the Vorvon steadied her with the unnatural strength of his grip.  For long moments, the mighty orgasm had its way with her.  She could only see stars as the powerful pleasure coursed through her, obliterating all thought and reason. . . With time, the “worst” of the sensations passed, Wilma fell into her bed, and slowly began to tune in again to the world around her…  

   

Weakly, Wilma writhed on her bed, still bleary-eyed in the throes of her post-orgasmic stupor.  There she lay outstretched, in an unmistakenly provocative pose, nicely displaying the sleek slender forms of her long Lycra-clad legs and her shapely bottom.  

 

As the Vorvon gazed at the young woman who lay collapsed on the bed, he marveled at the rare prize beauty which fortune had delivered into his hands, into HIS bed.  Her slender thighs, her shapely buttocks, her perfect hips, her surly pouting red wet lips. Surely she would be the conquest of a lifetime.  He slowly grasped her firm plump upturned ass, and gently squeezed until the sharp nails of his fingers began to dig into the ripe flesh of her ass. 

 

As he continued to grope her, he patted her soft toned jiggling ass with disconcerting possessiveness, saying, “You are very nearly broken, my dear, but not quite.  And it is that fire of resistance which makes draining you all the sweeter.”  

 

“Make me come again,” Wilma pleaded in earnest, extending her slender throat willingly.

 

“Very well,” he responded, and with that the Vorvon again reached for her body.  But this time he applied his “Grip of the Vorvon” not to her throat, but to her bottom.  As he cupped her shapely toned bottom in his clawed hand, again, he discharged his bio-electric shocks creating dull low feelings of arousal within her pelvis. . . . but in seconds the sensations intensified a hundred fold.  Wilma’s eyes rolled up into her head, and she gave herself over to the throes of a heady orgasm. 

 

“OH GOD NO!  DON’T STOP!! . . . . .HHHHH-HHHH-HHHH...UNGHHHHHHHH!!!”

she cried, as she squirmed sensuously in the bed, lost in the sensations of his lusty grip. 

 

“UNGHH!! UNGHHHH!!! UNGHHHHHH!!!!!” the girl screamed as the grinning Vorvon maintained his grip on her sexy ass, pleasuring her again.  Her head snapped from left to right, utterly lost in her ecstasy, as he clutched her soft bottom.  In seconds, he knew, she would cum.

 

Suddenly, her back arched sharply, her breasts thrust outward, and her thighs clenched closed as the mighty climax finally claimed her, “HUUUUUNNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!!”

 

As the Vorvon watched Wilma, lost in the throes of her abject ecstasy, he looked on in bemusement.  “Now, my child,” he began, “you are mine. . .”

 

****

 

Later that evening, Wilma awoke with the distinct relief of discovering that she was alone in her room.  Had it all been a dream?  A nightmare?  “Of course it was,” she thought, gazing around the room to reassure herself of the reality of the moment.  She was safe and alone.  Glancing uncertainly around the room, she tried to shake off the effects of a restless night’s sleep. 

 

“I must have passed out from exhaustion,” she posited.  I guess I really have been overworking myself,” she said out loud.

 

It was then that she noticed the marvelous smoky sensation of afterglow, that was tingling throughout her body.  The amorous sensation reminded her of the dark ceremony which had been playing itself out that evening in her quarters.  “That was no dream!” she corrected herself. 

 

“Indeed,” said the silvery tones of a malevolent voice from the shadows. 

 

Again Wilma gasped in disbelief, spinning to face the corner of the room, as the Vorvon materialized before her.  Slowly he stepped toward her, where she lay on the bed.  Now he stood uncomforatably near her, as she weakly recoiled.

 

“I assure you, my dear, that my destructive days are behind me.  Before I was only able to drain a victim’s essence by destroying them.  Now, my skills are perfected.  Within just a few weeks, I can drain off enough of your essence to satisfy me for years, without ever causing you the slightest bit of harm.  At some point in the future, I may need to return for more of your essence, but in time, you may come to find the possibility of future visits, . . . not entirely unpleasant.  In fact, as you have by now no doubt noticed, the process actually results in some rather, . . . pleasurable side effects.”  

 

Wilma reclined alluringly onto the bed, displaying her fine physique for the Vorvon.  “I h-hadn’t noticed,” she replied, lying.

 

 

“You’re telling me that this won’t make me your slave?”

 

“That is correct,” the Vorvon replied.  “There are no adverse side-effects, no side effects at all, except for the resounding ecstasy.”

 

“Why should I believe you?” Wilma inquired suspiciously. 

 

“Believe me or not,” the creature responded, “you have no choice but to submit to me.” 

 

“Very well then,” Wilma conceded with surprising haste, reclining again in a gesture of wanton sexuality and submission, but this time with more than a tinge of anticipation and excitement.   

 

The Vorvon extended his clawed grip directly toward her buttocks.         

 

“How could he?” she wondered as he grasped her shiny blue wriggling Lycra-clad buttocks, and drove her headlong into another round of mind-rending ecstasy.  “F-feels s-sooooooo gooooood,” she gasped aloud in disbelief, as the pleasure took her.

 

“Yessssssssssssssss,” he encouraged her. . .

 

Next he reached for her breast, sending devastating sensations through her body. 

 

Finally, after a few moments, he reached directly between her sleek blue Lycra thighs and applied his “Grip of the Vorvon” to the area directly between her legs.  Instantly Wilma was thrown into paroxysms of unbridled ecstasy, against which all his previous attacks paled to insignificance.     

 

“OHHH, GOD, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. . .” she cried out, her slender legs scissoring, her hips lunging and thrusting forward, her face clenched in an expression of shameless rapture. . .”UNNGH, UNNGHH, UNNGHHH, UNNNNGGHHH, UNNNNNGGHHH, UNNNNNGGGH,

UUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! . . .” she finally cried out, as oblivion took her wholly and completely.

 

All night long, the creature pleasure her, in ways she had never before imagined, until at last her perfect spent body collapsed unconscious into the arms of her unlikely demon-lover.   

 

****

 

The strange dreams continued all night, filling Wilma’s mind and body with feelings of intense passion that she had never known before.  The next morning, Wilma awoke with a clear head.  Had they really been dreams?  Nightmares?  “Of course they were,” she thought in relief, gazing around the room to reassure herself of the reality of the moment. 

 

But what dreams they had been!  “I can hardly wait to tell Buck . . .” she thought, then remembered that her friend was away on his diplomatic mission.  “Perhaps telling him about the dreams isn’t such a good idea anyway,” she thought to herself, considering for a moment the intimacy of the interludes.   But thinking of her old friend again, suddenly gave Wilma new impetus.  Dreams or no dreams, Wilma was freshly awakened with new feelings of sexual fulfillment and confidence.  She was invigorated with a new energy that she’d never known before. 

 

“When Buck gets back,” she mused to herself, “I’m done waiting.  I’m going to let him know  how I feel.  I’m going to take charge for a change, and show him a night that will make him forget every other woman he’s ever met.”  It was a new leaf for Wilma, one that would bring two friends together, friends who were destined to be together as lovers and partners for a lifetime.  But until his return, Wilma still had several weeks to herself.  As she settled sensuously back into bed, she closed her eyes and slid her hands up and down the sleek contours of her Lycra-clad hips and thighs.  She opened her mind to dark dreams of demon-lovers and forbidden passions.  After all, they were just dreams, . . . weren’t they?       

 

THE END