The Dream

The Dream by S F HopkinsChristine is nearly 40 and divorced from a husband who took no care of her sexual needs. She has dated occasionally since the divorce but never taken a man into her bed. Prim and demure on the surface, her nights are filled with The Dream in which, as the Headmistress of a French girls’ boarding school in 1940, she surrenders herself to occupying German troops to protect the girls under her care. When she takes a holiday she cannot take her eyes from a young German staying at the same hotel and longs to fulfil the dream with him–but he goes home and Christine gives up hope. Then the chance to live the dream comes from an unexpected quarter. Christine has to decide whether to pass the chance up, or let it happen. A sample:
His hands slide up the back of her legs, just as her own hands glide now. In the dream, his fingers slip beneath the loose fitting legs of French knickers; here on the hotel bed she must make do with elasticated panties but still her own fingers mimic the Leutnant’s. She is breathing heavily now—just as he is. On the bed she opens the wrap, presses the two sides apart. Her hands and his come together to cup her breasts, thumbs playing roughly over the nipples. The Leutnant presses his lips against her throat. ‘You are virgin?’
‘Yes,’ she gasps.
‘You surrender to the Fatherland?’
‘What choice do I have?’
His hands have left her breasts and are pulling down the knickers; her own do the same with her panties. His knees are between her thighs, forcing them apart. She raises a hand to his chest, half pushing him away and half expressing desire.
 These three men are going to have her and it’s rape, no question about that, but it’s her dream so the rape can take place the way she wants it. A little firm handling will be okay, she’d like to be handled firmly, but there’ll be no violence and no untoward haste—they can take their time about enjoying her. The Leutnant lowers his face to the junction of her thighs. He kisses her there while one of his men holds her hands above her head and the other kisses her face, her throat, her breasts. Her nipples are petted and sucked. The Leutnant’s tongue runs the length of her slit, pressing into the warm, moist vulva, and her juices are running riot. Her hips rise and fall on the schoolroom bed, just as they do here in the hotel where there is no Leutnant and no Leutnant’s men and her own fingers take the place of his tongue. She moans, rolls her head from side to side; when the man holding her hands opens his uniform pants and pushes his penis towards her mouth, she sucks greedily at it.

One of the tags I gave this book was “rape fantasy” and I’d like to say something about that. In my view, rape fantasy takes two forms—one in the heads of women and the other in the heads of some men. For women, it calls up the idea of what Erica Jong, in her book Fear of Flying, described as “the zipless fuck”. She described it as a sexual encounter between strangers that has the swift compression of a dream and is seemingly free of all remorse and guilt. It is absolutely pure, there is no power game and it is free of ulterior motives. That is what I believe rape fantasy means to most women (and certainly to me). Unfortunately, I have to be aware that there are men who think that women want to be taken by force and will read a story like this and say, “See! They like it, really!” If I could, I’d say this book is to be read by women only, because women will understand. I can’t do that; so what I will do instead is to ask you to put yourself into the mind of a woman who wants to spend the night in the arms of a strong, sexy man—but doesn’t particularly also want to spend the following day with him. I’ve sort of got my way because, in contrast to The Transformation of David, email traffic suggests that this story is read by more women than men.

You can download The Dream here for Kindle.

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