Scott tapped the brake of his car. There was a woman leaning against the wall of the liquor store. The setting sun added a glow to her long tanned legs. Her shorts were indecently short but what really caught his eyes was the style of the shorts. They were cut off blue jeans, just like the kind that girls wore when Scott was a teen.

The woman looked at him. A halo of teased brown hair surrounded her face. Sunglasses slightly too large for her face covered her eyes. She blew a bubble of pink gum.

He knew what she was. There were three cars ahead of Scott and none of them slowed down to look at the woman with the long legs. That was because they couldn’t see her. She was a Wet Dream and she was one of Scott’s.

Scott sped past her. He didn’t have time for this. His wife wanted ice cream and since she was home sick, it was up to him to go get it. He should be focused on his wife and not impossible long tanned legs.

He turned a corner and stopped at the red light. The grocery store was in sight. Once he got inside and was surrounded by people, he would be safe.

Pop. The snapping of bubblegum made him look in his rearview mirror. The Wet Dream was there. She had a tight white tanktop that stretched across her tits. Nipples poked against the thin material and looked ready to burst.

She leaned forward. Scott prayed for the light to turn green. He could smell her. She smelled of pink bubblegum, strawberry shampoo and cigarette smoke. Of course. Bad girls always smoked.

“Go away,” Scott said. She didn’t answer. When she was created, Scott didn’t know how dirty girls talked.

The light turned green. He shot through the traffic light and turned into the grocery store parking lot. He cruised into the first spot he could find and got out. Scott counted on her staying in the car. Only the most persistent could follow him.

He heard the clicking of her heels behind him on the pavement.

The doors opened and he stepped inside. A second later he heard the doors open again. The Wet Dream walked up to him and smiled.

Scott couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The white tanktop had changed to a loose fitting blouse that draped over her tits. A pink headband had appeared was barely holding back her teased gold brown hair. The bubblegum was gone and her lips were covered in pink lipstick.

“Go away,” he whispered. He turned and headed for the ice cream. He had to keep looking away. She would wither and vanish if he could just ignore her. At least no one else could see his Wet Dream.

Scott passed a woman and her child. The woman’s eyes widened and she turned her small son away. The woman glared past Scott with all the fury of a mother.

“Shit,” Scott whispered. That hadn’t happened before. Scott had seen a thousand wet dreams but this was the first one that others could see too. Maybe she was real? No, that was impossible. No one dressed like this anymore. She was dressed like one of his posters from when he was a teen. The sunglasses were just like the ones that Kelly Macon used to wear in tenth grade homeroom. Even her hair was just like that that MTV VJ he had a crush on. No, this was his Wet Dream.

Why could other people see her? Was he that horny? Scott didn’t think so. Maybe his Wet Dreams got stronger as he got older. That was a scary thought. He barely understood the Wet Dreams himself so the last thing he wanted to do was explain it to other people. He wanted to keep the Wet Dreams to himself.

He walked faster. The Wet Dream caught up to him. She put her hand on his ass and Scott’s felt an old thrill of exhibitionism that he had forgotten.

A stockboy looked at him and gave him an approving nod of the head.

This had to stop. This was his grocery store; Scott and his wife came here all the time. He didn’t want people to tell his wife about the tramp that her husband was shopping with. His wife didn’t know about the Wet Dreams and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to tell her about them now.

There were two ways to get rid of a wet dream and ignoring hadn’t worked this time. He had to do the other.

He made a sharp turn and headed for the restrooms. The Wet Dream kept pace with him, her heels clicking loudly on the smooth floors. Her blouse had changed to something with buttons and nearly all the buttons had come loose. Her tits bounced freely within the rapidly opening shirt.

Scott stared straight ahead and ignored the looks of staring customers. He pushed open the door to the restrooms and pulled the Wet Dream behind him. A customer was coming out, an older guy, and he gave Scott and his Wet Dream an indignant stare as he left.

“Fuck,” Scott whispered. They wouldn’t have much time. He pulled the Wet Dream into a stall and closed it behind them.

She pressed against him. Young tits smashed against his chest. The smell of cigarettes and bubble gum was intoxicating. He rubbed his cheek against her permed hair and relished the sensations.

The Wet Dream tugged at his pants and pulled his cock out. He wanted to fuck her and feel those long legs around him but he knew better. The older Wet Dreams sometimes don’t have vaginas or worse, they had something that a teenage boy thought a vagina looked like. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Scott pushed the Wet Dream down to her knees. The blouse was gone now and she was topless. Tanned breasts glowed below him. She opened her red lips and took his cock into her mouth.

“Yes,” Scott groaned. She took all of his cock into her mouth because Wet Dreams never gag unless he wanted them to. She was hot and slick and wet and tight around his cock. He grabbed her permed hair with both hands and struggled to stay on his feet.

The Wet Dream sucked him. Tits bounced against his legs with each thrust of her head. Her lips were tight and her tongue flicked the head of his cock. One hand went down into her shorts and stroked a vagina that he didn’t want to see.

She looked up at him, pretty blue eyes peeking out from behind the large frames of her sunglasses. He wondered where he had seen those eyes before.

He grinded against her face. The Wet Dream took it. She didn’t need to breathe so she could suck and suck and suck as long as his cock stayed hard.

Scott climaxed. It was a strong orgasm and he had to bite his lip to keep from yelling. He shot into her mouth and like all Wet Dreams, she swallowed all of it. Her lips were sealed around his cock until every drop was gone.

She vanished. Scott was left gripping handfuls of air. He let out a sigh of relief. He leaned against the wall of the stall and tried to catch his breath.

The restroom door opened. Scott had a feeling that the old man had ratted on him. Whoever came in was walking slowly and trying to appear nonchalant.

Scott pulled his pants up and flushed the toilet to maintain the illusion of being a normal non-fucked customer. He came out of the stall and tried to look as normal as possible.

He was right; a manager was in the restroom. The guy didn’t say anything but he checked the stall that Scott came out of while Scott washed his hands. The manager looked annoyed and headed out.

Scott laughed when he left. Once Scott had come, there was no trace of his Wet Dream except for the smile on Scott’s face.

Evan Freeson fell back into the recliner. He was exhausted. A day of going through his Uncle’s belongings had wiped him out.

“Who knew Uncle Frank had so much shit?” Evan asked out loud.

The shit didn’t answer. Boxes of paintbrushes sat silently. Stacks of porn magazines held their counsel. There was no word from the ragged couch or the cheap coffee table. The rather hideous painting of a pink lighthouse was mute. The entire trailer kept quiet.

Evan shook his head. Uncle Frank was always a mystery. He sent cards to the family for the holidays and that was it. Evan had never met him. Evan’s father called his brother a weirdo. There was no great argument or acidic family grudge to explain the estrangement. It was if Uncle Frank and the rest of the family decided that they didn’t want anything to do with each other.

Uncle Frank had passed away last week. He had had a stroke outside his house. The police said it looked like he died trying to crawl back into the house. Evan, being the only unemployed adult member of the Freeson family, was given the task of sorting through Uncle Frank’s effects.

Evan laughed as he thought about Uncle Frank’s possessions. No one in the family knew what Uncle Frank did for a living. From what Evan had discovered, it was making awful paintings like the one hanging here now. The trailer was full of the paintings, each depicting a poorly drawn lighthouse of a tacky color next to an ocean of an equally garish color. Evan wasn’t an art critic but he knew sucky art when he saw it.

And yet, according to Uncle Frank’s bank accounts, the art was good enough to justify million dollar purchase prices. People from all over the world wired money to Uncle Frank’s account for these paintings. Millions went into his account every year.

But was there millions of dollars waiting in the bank for Evan to collect? Nope. Uncle Frank spent it as fast as he got it. He didn’t spend it on hookers and drugs, which would at least make sense to Evan. No, Uncle Frank spent it on exotic paints, expensive canvases and indescribable brushes. He spent thirty thousand dollars a month for brushes made from the hair of a Voluptumancer. What the fuck was that?

Evan tried to imagine how anyone could spend a million dollars on paintings like these. He re-examined the lighthouse painting. The base of the lighthouse was thinner than the top. The clouds had right angles. The ocean was a terrible green color that looked like old carpet. At the bottom of the painting, Uncle Frank had signed it and also titled it. The title was “Big Tits.” 

“What the fuck?” Evan said. Evan stared at the painting but he didn’t see big tits anywhere. All the paintings had similar titles. There was a lighthouse next to a red sea entitled “Spanked Asses”. Another lighthouse that was striped like a candy cane had the title of “Cock Suckers”. It was some sort of weird artisy-fartsy naming convention and Evan couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

“It has to be a trick,” he said out loud. There was no way that these crudely drawn paintings could sell for anything. Uncle Frank must have been smuggling drugs or something. The money going in and out of his bank account was real but it had to be for something other than these shitty paintings. Evan wish he knew what it was but then again, maybe it was better that he didn’t know. It had to be something illegal.

Evan saw how late it was. He should be heading back to hotel. He needed a good rest before he tackled going through all this shit. Technically he was the executer of the estate and any money he could squeeze out of Uncle Frank’s possessions would help Evan out until he got a job. He didn’t know what the fuck a Roc was but he was going to figure out how to sell a canvas made of Roc hide.

He smiled as he thought of recouping even a fraction of the prices that Uncle Frank had bought these items at. It gave him a warm feeling all over his body.

It was the last thing that he thought of as his eyes closed and he went to sleep.

Evan opened his eyes to a pink world. The walls were pink. The ceiling was a darker shade of pink. The air around him had a pink tint. It was as if the entire world was being viewed through pink lenses.

He sat up and saw that he was in bed. The next thing that he noticed was that he was naked. A chill ran through him as he tried to remember what had happened. His cock was hard and fully erect despite his waking up in a strange place.

The sound of a wave crashing roared outside. Evan stood up and headed for the window. He had a bad feeling of what he would find.

The ocean was the color of old green carpet.

“Son of a bitch,” Evan whispered.

“He’s awake!” a voice cried out behind him.

Evan spun around as eight naked women walked into the bedroom. It was less of a walk and more like a bounce as each woman was preceded by their massive breasts. Evan gawked at the women’s unnaturally large breasts. He was amazed that they were all upright.

“Who are you?” Evan asked.

“He isn’t the Master!” said a woman with blonde hair.

“Of course he is the Master!” said a woman with red hair.

“He looks a little like the Master,” said a woman with black hair.

“His cock is much bigger than the Master’s,” said a woman with brown hair.

“It doesn’t matter if he is the old Master,” said a woman with white hair.

“That’s true,” said a woman with no hair at all. “If he is here, then he is the new Master and we shall serve him!”

“I want to serve the new Master first!” said a woman with long black braids.

“I shall serve his mouth while you serve his cock!” said a woman with blue hair.

“Who are you?” Evan repeated.

“We are your servants!” all eight women said at once.  They came closer. They licked their lips and squeezed their massive breasts.

Evan put his hands in front of his cock. “Where am I?”

“You are at the Big Tit Lighthouse,” said the woman with white hair.

“On the shores of the Astral Main!” said the woman with blue hair.

“I am having a seizure,” Evan said. “Something in my uncle’s trailer gave him a stroke and now it is giving me one. I’m dying.”

“I hope so!” the woman with blonde hair said. “If you die here, then you will stay forever and we can serve you!”

They had him surrounded now. His back was to the window. First they reached out with their hands. Eight pairs of gentle hands stroked, petted and touched his body. As the got closer, he felt the warm softness of their breasts pressing against him. It was the look in their eyes that made the biggest impression. All eight were dying for his approval.

“How did I get here?” he asked.

“The old Master created the portal,” the bald woman said. “He created all the portals. When one sleeps next to a portal, their soul is sent to the ether where it is drawn to the lighthouse. Your soul will return with the first rays of dawn.”

“That is too much crazy,” Evan said. “My seizures are more creative than I am.”

“Master!” said the woman with black hair. “Squeeze my breast!”

“Please rest your head between my tits, Master!” said the woman with white hair.
“Rest your cock on my tits, master!” said the woman with long braids.

Their voices pleaded with him. The groped and squeezed their breasts as they urged him to touch them. They massaged their giant tits as they begged to be fucked, groped and used.

The absurdity of the pink surroundings melted away as he focused on their tits. The ugly green ocean continued to roar but all he could hear were the voices. The insanity of what was happening was forgotten as his desire for tits increased.

“Fuck it, if I am going to have a seizure, I might as well enjoy it,” Evan thought. He reached for a breast. It belonged to the woman with red hair. His fingers sank into softest breast he had ever felt.

“Oh my God,” Evan whispered.

“You are our God,” the redhead said.

Evan believed her.

The women gently pulled him towards the bed. It was easy. He fell into the bed and eight women fell on top of him. He was smothered in tits and flesh.

Evan didn’t resist for a second.

The women moved around him. They giggled as they moved, acting out a careful choreography that was second nature. In seconds, Evan’s head was resting on a breast while another breast was pressed to his eager lips. Each hand was pulled to other breasts and he squeezed gleefully. Someone pressed their breasts to his feet and he delighted in the strange sensations.

Someone spit on his cock. He couldn’t see who was doing it and he didn’t care. His cock was slid between two tits and he was embraced in heat. Up and down, the tits slid around his cock and Evan didn’t care if he was dead because this had to be heaven.

Evan climaxed quickly. It was inevitable. It was a lucky day if he had sex with one woman, much less eight heavily endowed women who were pledged to serve him. His cock erupted and made a sticky mess between warm tits.

“Fuck!” Evan yelled with pleasure.

“Fuck!” he yelled again, this time with rage.

“What is the matter, Master?” said the woman with the long black braids. Her tits were covered in his seed.

“I came already,” he said. “It’ll be another hour before I can pop another load.”

The women giggled. The woman with long black braids shook her head. “Maybe in the other world that is true but we are here where the oceans of desire crash on fantasy’s shores. You can come as much as you desire.”

“Really?” Evan said.

“Let me show him!” said the woman with blonde hair.

She took his cock into her mouth. Despite having just climaxed, Evan enjoyed every lick of her willing tongue. He didn’t have his usual after-climax sensitivity. He didn’t have that drained feeling from having just come. His cock felt as fresh and strong as if he hadn’t had sex in a week.

The blonde woman went further down and her breasts smashed against Evan’s legs. He reached down and cupped one of her breasts as she sucked him. She moaned her appreciation and her moans vibrated up and down his cock.

He came in the blonde woman’s mouth in a matter of minutes. She swallowed all of him. When she finally released his cock from her mouth, his cock was still hard.

Next he mounted the woman with the blue hair. He fucked between her legs as he bounced on top of her tits. He came between her thighs as she screamed her pleasure.

The woman with no hair bent over for him and he mounted her from behind. He watched her massive breasts swing with every thrust. When he climaxed, he came on her ass.

He wanted more. He laid back and let the woman with brown hair mount his cock. As she bounced on him, he commanded the white haired woman to sit on his face. One hand on each of their breasts, he ate pussy as he was fucked. He climaxed buried under two pussies.

Evan had more fantasies to explore. The redhead laid on her stomach and spread her ass for him. His cock, slick from pussy and so much seed, slipped right into her. He fucked the redhead’s ass as woman after woman offered their tits for his mouth. He was sucking on the bald woman’s nipple when he came inside the redhead’s ass.

After that, he let all eight women jerk him off at the same time. He climaxed on multiple breasts. He came in all of their mouths. He indulged in every fantasy that he had and the women were happy to serve. The ocean roared outside as he spilled his seed over and over again.

Evan woke up. His mouth was still trying to bite the nipple that had been in his mouth moments ago. The dawn sun peeked through the trailer window.

“Fuck,” he groaned. He unzipped his pants. His cock was bright red from last night’s events. It was also sore to the touch.

“So, magic paintings,” Evan said. It explained the money. It explained the paintings. Heck, it even explained the porn. It must have been research.

“Wait, how many paintings are there?” he said aloud. He figured that there was at least thirty. Visions of money danced before him. He didn’t know who he was going to sell them to but he did have Uncle Frank’s records. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a find. He had thirty paintings to sell. He was going to be set for life!

But first, he had thirty paintings to try out. He might want to keep one.

Or two.

The school bell rang and a chill went down my spine. My cock also throbbed.

It was after nine and my wife was watching television. She was immersed in reality shows and fake lives. I knew she didn’t hear the bell. It was not meant for her.

“I’m heading out,” I told her and she didn’t ask me where I was going. She was used to my late night trips. There were never any questions from her. It was why we were still married.

The school bell was still ringing as I went outside. I stood in my yard and looked for the school. This time it was down the street. It lurked beside the bus stop.

Other men were already heading towards it. I didn’t recognize any of them, which I never do. I am not sure if my fellow students even live here.

The bell kept ringing until I stepped inside. It was a single room school. A chalkboard loomed behind a white desk. A poster admonished little boys to be good. A map of the world covered one wall but none of the continents looked right. A cabinet of skulls sat in a corner but none of us would look at it.

The men lined up at the white desk. We each dropped something off as we walked by. The man in front of me put down a hundred dollars. I put down a knife I had bought this week. It was our tribute, our bribe or maybe our penance.

We undressed and took our seats. We stuffed our clothes inside our desks. The cold seat was hard and unforgiving on my ass

I fidgeted like most of the men there. My fingers traced the marks on the desk top that were left by thousand of students. I read carved confessions and scribbled pleas for help. I read names that I could barely believe. I saw the word I clawed one day with my fingernails.

When the last man was seated, Ms. Erie came in. She was in a white dress that glowed in the dark class room. The dress contrasted with her brown skin and night black hair. Silver rimmed glasses aided the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. A faint coat of white lipstick decorated dark lips. As usual, she carried a crop decorated with the head of a unicorn. The unicorn’s horn was stained with blood.

“Good evening, class,” Ms. Erie said. Her accent was Polynesian. I knew this because I had spent the last six years trying to place it.

“Good evening, Ms. Erie,” we all said in unison. The student to my left began to shake.

“I hope you all have been working on your assignments,” Ms. Erie said.

The student to my left started openly crying. A student behind me started to pray. Another student at the end of my row started to slam his head into his desk.

“Stop that,” Ms. Erie said gently and the student stopped slamming his head. There was blood on his face.

“I guess we shall begin with you, Jeffery,” Ms. Erie said, turning to the crying student beside me.

Jeffery shook his head.

“Did you stop stealing setting up cameras in women’s bathrooms?” Ms. Erie asked.

Jeffery shook his head.

“How many pictures have you taken of women since last class?” Ms. Erie asked.

Jeffery wailed. “Three thousand and fourteen,” he said. I don’t think he even knew the number until Ms. Erie asked him.

Ms. Erie shook her head. “Very naughty. I am so disappointed in you. I thought we had made good progress. I see that you need more Education.”

Jeffery cried and stood up. He walked around his desk and bent over it. His face was so pale.

“Education, you may begin,” Ms. Erie said.

The crop flew from her hand. It struck Jeffery with a hiss as it cut through the air.

Jeffery screamed. The crop kept hitting him. Welts appeared on his ass, followed by blood. He screamed and screamed and screamed. It was horrible.

It was what he deserved.

After an eternity, Ms. Erie held out her hand and Education returned to it. I was close enough to see the Unicorn head and I saw that it was smiling.

“Jeffery, your next assignment is to remove all of the cameras you have hidden, and I do mean all of them. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Erie,” he said barely. His voice was hoarse from all of his screaming.

“Now what about you, Charles?” Ms. Erie said directly to me.

I swallowed. “I have tried my best,” I said.

Ms. Erie smiled. “I shall be the judge of that. Have you killed since last class?”

“No, Ms. Erie,” I said and it was the truth. You couldn’t say anything else to her.

“And do you have someone you would like to kill?” Ms. Erie asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “There is a woman at my bank. I have followed her a few times. I know where she lives. I know that she is alone.”

“And do you still keep that special bag in your car?” Ms Erie asked.

“No,” I said. “It is still in my basement, where you told me to keep it.”

“Good,” Ms. Erie said. “I want to keep your vow of not killing. Your next assignment is to stop following this girl. Follow another if you want, but you must never see this girl again, do you understand me?”

My eyes darted to Education. “Yes,” I said.

“Your other assignment is to take something out of your bag and throw it away. Don’t replace it. Do you understand this assignment?”

“Yes,” I said but it hurt. My bag had all my favorite tools. I had so many memories. One item? Which item? This would be hard.

“Good, I think you have earned a B then,” Ms. Erie said.

I let out a ragged breath that I didn’t know I was holding. A B! I felt a giddy delight come over me that wiped away my anxiety. I didn’t care anymore about dismantling my special bag. I would worry about that latter.

Ms. Erie waved her hand and the desk moved away from me. She stood in front of my naked body and my hard cock. With a fluid motion, she kneeled down in front of me.  Students groaned with jealousy at the prize I was about to receive.

I looked down as long black hair brushed my thighs. Ms. Erie looked up at me from silver rimmed glasses. She took my cock in her hand and licked the tip.

I had a sudden vision. I imagined grabbing her head and forcing it down on my cock. I imagined fucking her face. I imagined the cuts I wanted to make on her body.

She squeezed my cock with her hand. It hurt but the visions went away.

Then she went down on me. I cried out as my cock was wrapped in incredible wet warmth. It was better than my first time. It was better than a cunt. It was better than killing.

Education hovered nearby but I ignored him. I earned this B. I sat back and enjoyed it. I relished every long slow lick. I treasured the way her hair moved up and down my lap as she sucked. I trembled as her cheeks caved in under the sucking pressure of her mouth. I moaned as she took more and more of my cock into her mouth.

This made up for not killing anyone. This was why I fought that nasty wonderful urge. This is why the bank teller is still alive.

Spit dribbled out of her mouth and down my cock and onto my balls. I looked over at Jeffery who was somehow sitting down on that raw bloody butt in his seat. I smiled at him and shook my head slowly. This could have been him.

More importantly, if I hadn’t of behaved, I could have been him.

Ms. Erie choked on my cock and I forgot about Jeffery. I forgot about the woman at the bank. Shit, I even forgot about my special bag. This was heaven. This was incredible. This was worth being good.

I climaxed in her mouth. I filled her mouth with my seed and Ms. Erie drank it all. My body shook and I felt like I was dying. My entire soul was being sucked.

Ms. Erie released my cock and stood up. She wiped the corner of her mouth. Her white lipstick was flawless. “Well done, Charles,” she said, as if I was the one who performed an amazing blowjob.

“Thank you, Ms. Erie,” I said.

She went on to judge other students. Some she punished. Others she rewarded. One lucky bastard got an A and we all watched in envy as he fucked her ass.

Three students were expelled. Their screams were worse than any of the kills I had made. Ms. Erie added their skulls to the cabinet.

Time moved slowly when we were in class. We witnessed each grade as if it was our own. There could be no rushing it.

Finally, the bell rang. We stayed in our seats.

“Class is dismissed,” Ms. Erie said.

I got up and got dressed. I left in a hurry, stepping over the body of an expelled student. I went through the doors without a glance back.

I was back in my street. My watch said that an hour has passed. It was right but also wrong.

My thoughts went to the bank teller. Yes, I could give her up. I had spent time and effort tracking her but I would do it. There could be another.

My cock ached with a happy exhaustion. I remembered the feeling of climaxing in Ms. Erie’s mouth. Something more than seed had left my cock and went down her throat. It was a piece of me. A piece I didn’t need anymore.

My special bag needed to be taken care of. I decided that I was going to throw away the gag. It had served me well but I would get rid of it. It didn’t seem that important anymore.

I returned to my house. I was still a bad man, but maybe a little less bad.

It began at the flea market.  I found it tucked away between a box of men’s magazines and a sewing machine.  It was a rainy day and not many of the sellers had shown up for today but I was compelled to come anyway.  That might be why I found it first. 

The statue depicted a nude woman with amazing breasts.  The breasts were a size too large for the body and yet the statue stood perfectly fine on its slender base.  It appeared to be made of silver but the weight was too light.  The woman had short curly hair and her face was a curious mix of racial features that made it impossible to identify.  It could have been a white woman, an African, an Asian or a Hispanic.  Whatever she was, she was beautiful.

The seller was confused when I pointed it out.  He didn’t seem to think it was his.  That was not too unusual, most of these flea markets are staffed by people who buy and sell every day.  I just assumed that he forgot that he owned it.  He didn’t have a price tag for it so he charged me sixty-six dollars.  For once, I didn’t haggle and I paid his price.

I didn’t buy anything else that day.  Holding that statue in my hand, I lost my usual passions.  I was no longer interested in old books, vintage typewriters or Death Bringers concert posters.  In fact, I had a giant erection in my pants and my throbbing cock was all I could think of. 

I went back to my car and set the statue down in the passenger seat.  I started the car and then turned it back off.  A drop of rain had landed on the statue and it was sitting on the statue’s right breast.  It clung to the statue’s breast and I was jealous of it.

Please understand that I am not a pervert.  I jack off every other day but I don’t have enormous porn collections on my computer like some guys.  I don’t have a girlfriend but I am not looking either.  I am a regular guy and I don’t usually act this way.

I opened my pants.  My cock was pulsing as I wrapped my hand around it.  Usually I masturbate with tissues or a towel to catch my come but I didn’t care.  I didn’t even spit in my hand as I started to jack off.

It was a rainy day but there were still people in the parking lot.  I didn’t care.  I looked at the statue and jacked my cock.  Those perfect breasts looked so soft and pliant.  I wanted to lick the raindrop off the statue but I didn’t.  It was sexier seeing it there.

I came pretty quickly.  I made a huge mess in my car.  Normally I feel a twinge of shame afterwards but this time I just felt a tremendous relief.  With a hand covered in come, I felt good.

When I got home I tried to find out more about the statue.  There was no maker’s mark and the internet gave me no clues.  It was hard to find anything about a statue of a naked woman.

That night I dreamed of the statue.  It came to life and was a black woman.  She pulled me to her tits and it was like sinking into heaven.  I kissed her breasts while I wept.  I snuggled into the canyon of her magnificent mammaries.  I cried for joy when she invited me to slip my cock between her mountains of wonder.

I fucked her tits.  There was no need for lubricant.  My cock slid back and forth between her tits like they were made for me. 

The tits told me things.  It was the crazy impossible knowledge that you can only get in dreams.  The tits told me who really created the universe.  The tits told me what lurks underground in secret cities.  The tits told me the sex secrets of a celebrity cook.  The tits told me where orgasms come from.  The tits told me why people still vote Republican.  It was all insane and it all made sense.

I came in my dream and I awoke to sticky sheets.  My underwear was soaked with come.  I laughed and thought about the crazy things the tits told me.  I expected that when I was awake, that the weird things I had dreamed would sound even crazier.  Instead, they made more sense.   

That was too much for me.  By the time I finished with my shower I had decided to get rid of the statue.  It was what I usually do anyway.  I often bought things, keep it around for awhile and then sell it on an internet auction site to make room for something new.  I was just speeding up the process.

I took a few pictures of the statue for the auction site.  My cock was hard the entire time.  This time I could certainly see the African features more clearly.  Funny how my dream made it easier to see.

I posted it with a starting bid of sixty dollars. 

I went to work and tried to forget about the statue but it was hard.  So was my cock.  Even though it was a dream, I could remember with perfect clarity the feeling of slipping between those lovely lady lumps.

Harder to forget was the knowledge the tits had told me.  I saw the celebrity chef on a magazine cover and it seemed so obvious what perversions she does.  I felt a tremor from a passing subway train and I knew what the short men underground were up to.  I heard my conservative coworker bitch about healthcare and I knew what he was really afraid of. 

When I got home I checked the auction site.  The current bid was six thousand dollars.  That was crazy.

I had dinner and watched television.  I kept thinking about the statue.  I jacked off twice more.  Coming three times in one day was some sort of a record.

That night I dreamed of the statue again.  This time she was Asian with flawless skin and beautiful black hair.  She pulled me to her tits and I sucked on a nipple.  I dreamed she masturbated me as I sucked.

The tits told me things again.  I tried not to listen but their ideas went straight into my head.  The tits told me why my last girlfriend cheated on me.  The tits told me why people like vampire erotica.  The tits told me what that famous teenage singer really was. 

A loud knocking woke me up.  It was the incessant pounding of an angry hand.  I got out of bed with my cock forming a tent in my boxers.  I glanced at the statue beside my bed and this time I could plainly see the Asian features.  How could I have mistaken them for African before?

The knocking resumed and I rushed to the door, which is weird because I should have been pissed at the knocking at the late hour.  It is hard to describe, but I felt like I was in trouble.  

There were three people at the door.  The one in front was a woman with long blonde hair.  Behind her were a short redhead woman and a tall white man.  They wore black masks across their eyes like they were bank robbers from the 40’s. 

Even odder was their shirts.  Each of them had a cut in their shirt that revealed their right breast.  The blonde woman had a heavy tit exposed that was pale and marbled with pale blue veins.  The redhead had a small perky tit with a butterfly tattoo.  The man’s tit was a bit hairy.

“We are here for the Oracle,” the blonde said.  “You must give it to us and us alone.”

I knew they were talking about the statue.  I mean, what else would three masked people with their tits hanging out be here for?

“Put a bid in like everyone else,” I said.  “Wait, how did you get my address?”

“The Order of the Tit have many connections,” the blonde said.  “We are only the true worthy inheritors of the power of the Oracle and we demand you give it to us.  We will not sully the Oracle by paying for it with mortal currency but we shall make you an offer.  Natalie here will suck you cock or take it up her ass, whichever you prefer in exchange for the Oracle.  Steve is here for the same offer if your tastes are more masculine.  Either way, we want the Oracle.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Or you can have them both if you wish,” the blonde said.  “Hell, you can have me as well.  We number over a thousand members and you can have us all if you desire.  Just give us the Oracle before it decarnates.”

“De-car-what?” I said.  “Wait, what is the Oracle?”

“Newbie! You don’t deserve to know!” the redhead snapped.

The blonde held up her hand.  “No, Natalie, the Oracle appeared to him.  Perhaps he is worthy.  Tell him, Steve.”

The man nodded and spoke.  “No one knows what exactly the Oracle is but when it appears, it grants forbidden knowledge.  It always appears as a great work of art and within a few weeks, it disappears.  It reappears usually around six years later.  Last time it appeared, it was a sexy towel in Puerto Rico.  Before that, it appeared as a jpeg that couldn’t be copied.  Some say that it taught prehistoric man how to have oral sex and-“

“That is enough, Steve,” the blonde said.  “As you can see, the Oracle imparts important knowledge, knowledge that must belong in the right hands and kept away from the uneducated.  It is too important to sell to a random person on the internet.”

“I need to think about this,” I said.  “Come back in the morning?  No wait; come back at six in the afternoon?  After I get off from work?”

“It could decarnate tonight!” the redhead snapped.  “There is so much to learn!  Why is that shitty book about bondage so popular? What is the right way to have a poly relationship?  You have to give it to us!”

“Yeah, come back at six,” I said.  I closed the door.

That was freaky.  I should have called the cops but what they said made a certain kind of sense.  I mean, with all the weird dreams I have had, it was as good an explanation as any.

I locked the door and checked the lock on the back door.  When I peeked outside the window I saw that they had gone.  I went back to bed.

This time I dreamed that the statue was a Hispanic woman.  Her skin was a luscious brown and her tits were topped with dark nipples the color of the night sky.  This time the Oracle got down on her knees and took me into her mouth.  I grabbed her heavy tits and my fingers squeezed and played with the malleable marvels of her flesh.

The tits had a lot to tell me.  They told me of the Order of the Tit and how jealous they were of Oracle’s secrets.  The Order was there when O was being branded.  The Order created the secret pleasure palaces of the Rockefellers.  The Order kept the sex books of Charles Dickens for themselves.  The Order decided who gets to enjoy our wicked world. 

The tits told me that knowledge, like tits, is nourishing when given freely.  The tits told me that tits, like knowledge, can be cruel when denied.  The tits told me that there is a place for both.

The oracle took me out of her mouth before I climaxed.  As I held her tits, she jacked my cock.  I climaxed on her bountiful brown breasts.

The tits had one more thing to tell me.  Covered in my come, they told me that the window for my kitchen had the weakest lock of all.

A crashing sound woke me up.  I heard angry cursing the sound of a dozen people in my house.  Someone knocked down some dishes and someone else tripped over my exercise bike in the living room.  Yeah, I always trip on that thing too.

My underwear was full of come but I couldn’t worry about that.  I jumped out of bed and grabbed the statue.  I thought about going out my window but before I could, the bedroom door burst open.  A black guy with his right nipple exposed charged me. 

I hit him with the statue.  I swung it by the legs so he got clobbered by the tits part of the statue.  The guy went down like a log.  I wasn’t sure if I gave him a concussion or maybe he was having a vision.

A white guy came at me and I showed how non-racist I was by knocking him out too.  The redhead from earlier ran at me and I took her out too so that proved I didn’t discriminate by gender either.

“Just give us the Oracle and you won’t get hurt!” the blonde from earlier screamed.

“Fuck off!” I said.  A big guy was blocking the door to outside but a statue swing to his nuts put him down.  You know, for a secret organization that has been around for centuries, they couldn’t fight for shit.

I ran outside and I saw a white van pull up.  The doors opened and a pretty black girl leaned out.  She had on pink robes that exposed her breast.  I slipped in the grass and fell on my ass.

That was when I noticed the robes covered her left breast, not her right.

The rest you know.  Now I am a member of the Fellowship of the Tit.  I have sworn the Six Oaths on Six Tits and now I too wear the pink robes.  My left nipple is exposed to all for sexuality should be free and never censored or controlled. 

Together we shall learn the secrets of the Oracle and tell the world.  We will bring in a new age of sexual enlightenment to all who want to hear.  We will not turn you away because you read the wrong books, see the wrong movies or like the wrong things.  We are the Fellowship of the Tit and the Oracle is for us all.