THE MAGIC MAN’S FORBIDDEN DREAMS:
TALE OF THE INN KEEPER’S NIECE
Copyright ©2015 Allan J. Lewis
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission request, contact the author through the publisher’s website:
www.cavernofdreams.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1-927899-15-1
Cavern of Dreams Publishing
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Prologue
It was late evening, and Jean Thornton was curled up on the sofa, reading a romance novel. Jean was addicted to any kind of love story, as long as it had a happy ending. Her partner, Steve Bateman, was getting ready to go to work. Steve was a prison guard at California State Prison. He hadn’t been working there long, and tonight was the last night shift of his first week of working nights. It had only been two months since they had moved in together, and Jean knew Steve didn’t like leaving her alone in their apartment. Jean was twenty—only a year younger than Steve—and was a little nervous to be left on her own. Steve had told Jean she could have a friend sleep over when he was on nights, but Jean said it would be awkward because she was up early for her waitressing shift at a local roadside diner.
“Alright, I’m off.” Steve bent over to kiss her, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Of course! I’ll lock the door behind you and I’ve got this book to keep me company in bed, so don’t worry.” Jean got up and followed him to the door.
“Okay. If I don’t see you in the morning, I’ll see you tomorrow after you finish work.” Steve turned back for another kiss. “Don’t you go running off with some film producer if they stop by the diner.”
Jean had won a beauty contest when she was eighteen, and with her long, blonde hair, soft curves, and California good looks, Steve told everyone she should be in the movies. However, Jean had been so nervous and scared the day of the contest, she was shocked when she won—and swore never to do anything like it again.
Jean knew Steve was afraid someone would come and sweep her off her feet before they got married, and working as a waitress, Jean had plenty of offers for dates. That was how she met Steve; he had come into the diner looking for work and something about him sparked her interest. That was six months ago, and the spark had grown into a flame of love. There was talk of marriage in their future now that Steve had a regular job.
Jean gave him a reassuring smile. “Steve, I’ve been at the diner for a while now and no big shot movie director or producer has come in yet.”
Steve remained unconvinced. “Well, if they did, they would snap my little beauty queen up as soon as they laid eyes on you.”
Jean shook her head and laughed. “And I told you I don’t want to be a celebrity—I just want a quiet life.”
“Yeah,” Steve grinned at her as he came back for one last kiss. “Who wants to be millionaires anyway?”
Jean pushed him out the door, laughing. “If there are any cookies left over after my shift, I’ll make sure to bring you one home,” she called as she shut the door behind him and bolted the lock.
Jean had only one secret she half-kept from Steve: she had a dream lover called Joe, who had recently started keeping her company while Steve was on the night shift. Jean had told Steve she had a sexy dream about them going to a costume party; she had been dressed as Wonder Woman, and Steve as Batman. That was the first dream Jean had with Joe in it, and it had been unbelievably erotic, yet so real! When she told Steve about it, he had laughed, saying they all called him Batman at work because his name was Bateman. When Jean tried to tell him there were other Batmen in her dream, who wore the same mask, and a few of them made love to her claiming they were him, Steve laughed again and said of course they would—what man wouldn’t want to bed her? He had laughed the dream off, blaming the romance books she read before bed.
However, when Joe visited Jean in her next dream, he had spoken directly to her and told her he had the power to erase the dream from her memory, or leave her remembering every little detail—especially how good her lovers were, right down to how well blessed they were. Joe told her he would come to her most nights, if she wanted him to, and he would take her on numerous sexual adventures where she would have various lovers, just like in her Batman dream and in the books she read. However, if she was afraid to go on another adventure, he could move on to other women and erase Jean’s memory.
At first, Jean struggled to make sense of it all. She kept telling herself they were just dreams, but they seemed so real and she remembered every little detail—they were like memories of another life. She thought about Joe’s message—that he could move on if she was afraid. But she wasn’t afraid of the silly dreams—she enjoyed them—and Joe seemed to be a nice guy. Jean had woken up once having a beautiful orgasm, with Steve next to her in bed, and she went straight back to sleep and into the arms of her dream lover. What harm was there in keeping Joe and her dreams a secret? After all, they were just figments of her imagination. The only part she couldn’t explain was if the story in the dreams hadn’t finished, the next night the dream would carry on where it left off. Although it was weird, Jean put it down to her reading so much, and to picking up her book and putting it down so often.
Jean hoped tonight would be no different. She picked up her book and headed to bed to read, hoping Joe would visit her. Tomorrow night Steve would be off night shift and in bed with her, but she knew Joe would still whisk her off on another adventure, while they both slept.
Jean’s dream lover, Joe, wasn’t a figment of her imagination: Joe was a real person, but he was happy to leave Jean thinking he wasn’t. Joe had to keep his identity a secret because he had a gift for reading minds and getting into people’s dreams. There were those in the US government who wanted Joe eliminated because of his powers, and there were government scientists who wanted to find out more about them. Joe was not going to be their guinea pig to run tests on, like some freak sideshow.
The FBI took a different view, however; they called him Joe the Magic Man—far from his real name—but it’s the way he wanted it. The FBI saw Joe’s gift of reading minds as a way to combat crime: Joe could get into a criminal’s mind and find out their secrets. He could find out where a murderer had hid his victims’ bodies, or ask a drug dealer who their kingpin was. The FBI really wanted Joe to get into the minds of terrorists to find out when and where they planned to attack next. The possibilities were endless in how they could use Joe’s powers to fight crime.
Joe had agreed to work for the FBI, but only with Special Agent Rosemary Burrows, and through Alice Timberlake, a freelance journalist and friend, whose dreams he had visited before. Their arrangement benefited Alice: acting as the go-between, she could get the breaking news scoop on whatever case they were working on. Joe hoped, by using the two women as his liaisons with the FBI, he would continue to keep his identity a secret.
Joe was addicted to dream stalking, which was what he did when he entered people’s dreams for fun. The FBI knew what Joe did, but ignored it as long as he stalked the dreams of whomever they asked him to and no one got hurt because of his fantasies.
Tonight, Joe was going back to Jean Thornton, the beauty queen. He knew she looked forward to their adventures—especially when there were handsome men with big cocks in them. The last time Joe was in her mind, he noticed she was reading a romance novel called Two Swords, One Woman, about a woman in love with a lord who had a fleet of ships, and a pirate who robbed the ships and kidnapped the woman. Joe didn’t know many pirate stories, but the best swordsmen story he knew was The Three Musketeers, so he thought he would take Jean to find romance in France, the home of the musketeers.
Joe made himself comfortable in his bed and thought of Jean: he whispered her name, and before it fell off his lips, he was in Jean’s mind. Jean was fast asleep, dreaming that she and Steve were bowling. Joe quietly took her into a deeper sleep, where Jean was his to command….
Chapter One
France, 1626, in a village somewhere between Paris and the coast of the English Channel.
“Jean, have you scrubbed those napkins clean?” Jean’s mother shouted through the open window. Jean was out in the backyard washing her younger sisters’ rag napkins.
“Oui, Maman, I’m just about to put them on the line.” Jean was rushing to do her chores, hoping to get away to meet Steve, a young man she had her eye on. Jean had seen him in church many times, but lately he had taken notice of her, smiling at her often. She had smiled back, and last Sunday he asked if he could take her for a walk. Jean told him if she didn’t have any chores to do on Saturday, she might take a walk along Mill Road with him after dinner.
“Come on children, dinner is ready!” Jean’s mother shouted again. She always seemed to be shouting at one of her seven children.
After dinner, Jean quickly helped her sister wash the plates and put the food away, and then approached her mother.
“Maman, can I go see Margo?” Margo was Jean’s friend that lived down Mill Road.
“You have to sort out the eggs and take ten to Madame De Lloyd first,” her mother grumbled.
“I will take the eggs,” said Jean’s father, “I am passing by there on the way to the inn.”
“Well,” huffed Jean’s mother, “you two just leave me alone so you can go and have a good time, while I put everyone else to bed.”
Jean knew better than to say anything. She waited a moment, and then snuck off with her papa’s blessing.
Mill Road was a long road leading from the town out to the old mill, with lots of streets crisscrossing it. Steve was standing on the corner of the first street, looking up the road at her; she could see his face light up when he recognized her. Jean smiled back and quickened her pace.
“Bonjour, Jean. You managed to do your chores, I see,” Steve said shyly as he turned and walked beside her.
“Bonjour, Steve. Yes, I was supposed to run an errand as well, but my father offered to do it on his way out.” Jean felt nervous as she looked around, hoping she wouldn’t see anyone she knew. “Saturday night is Papa’s night out.” Jean didn’t know why she said that, other than she didn’t know what to else to talk about. “He works in the brewery and gets discounts if he drinks in their inns.” Jean felt silly saying that.
“I see,” Steve said. By the way he fidgeted and blushed, Jean could tell he was nervous, too.
“Where does your father work?” Jean asked.
“Oh, he can’t find work; he tries hard, but only gets the odd job.” Steve shook his head. “The same for me, I can’t find work. But my mother works helping the cook up at the big house.”
As they walked, the only thing they could think to talk about was family and friends; Jean told him a little about each brother and sister, and he did the same. They were both from poor families. Jean was in her everyday clothes that were shabby and worn, while Steve looked even worse—like a street urchin—despite his rugged good looks. But Jean was only looking at the smile Steve was wearing.
“I better go back or my maman will be out looking for me,” Jean said after a while. It was late March and the winter sun was low over the rooftops, casting long shadows.
“Shall I walk you back?” Steve asked, as he held his hand out.
Jean’s heart gave a little flutter as she caught hold of his hand. “Oui, merci. Does your mother ask where you’ve been if you come in late?”
“Maman goes to bed early, and my papa stays up sometimes, but I can stay out as long as I don’t wake them when I go in,” Steve responded.
“My maman likes to see us all in bed before she turns in,” Jean pouted.
They held hands all the way back, making small talk; neither one of them could stop smiling. When they came to her street, Jean stopped. “I live just up there, so we better not go any further.”
“Can I see you again?” Steve asked. “I’ve enjoyed our walk.”
The grin on Jean’s face grew bigger. “I will see you in church tomorrow, but I might be able to get away Wednesday night.”
“You can…I mean, you will?” Steve looked shocked when she agreed to see him again.
“I will try to make it,” Jean smiled. She had been hoping he would ask her out again; there was something about his eyes that told her he could be the one for her. “I will try and do all my chores early.”
Suddenly Steve’s smile faded as he looked nervously up and down the road.
“May I kiss you goodnight?” Steve whispered as he caught hold of her hands.
Jean and Steve were standing on the corner of the main road; there were a few people about: the odd rider and coach had passed, and any of Jean’s neighbours could pass by at any time. Despite it all, Jean looked up into his pleading eyes, swallowed hard, and said, “Oui.” Jean saw the smile return to his face, and he bent forward slowly.
Steve took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kissed her.
Jean closed her eyes as Steve gave her the daintiest of kisses. They pulled apart and Jean saw him blushing as he looked around, chuckling. Jean giggled as she walked away. “Bonne nuit, Steve! I’ll see you in church.”
“Yes, and I will see you again Wednesday night, hopefully.” Steve appeared to be in a trance. “Bonne nuit, Jean.”
Jean walked away, then turned to wave to Steve. He was running and jumping down the road! She, too, felt like skipping down her street—she couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell Margo Steve had kissed her!
As soon as Jean got home, she helped her mother get the rest of the children to bed, and then she joined them, rather than stay up with her maman to wait for her papa.
She couldn’t sleep, though; her head was in a spin. Steve’s kiss had given her goose bumps! Is Steve the right man for me? She wondered. She definitely wanted to see him again.
Jean was walking through the village with Margo and another woman, Bella. Bella worked at one of the local inns, and the young women spent time together when they weren’t busy with their chores at home. As the women walked and gossiped about village news, Paul came along. Paul was one of the more eligible bachelors in the village.
“Venez, les filles…come, let’s see if we can have some fun with Paul,” Bella giggled, before she called after him.
The three girls and Paul walked and talked for a bit before they wandered into a back alley, where Bella began whispering rude questions to Paul, such as asking how many girls he had bedded. Margo and Jean were appalled, but at the same time, intrigued; Bella was being very improper, yet they couldn’t seem to walk away. Then Bella said to Paul, “I will show you my tits if you show us your cock!”
Jean was mortified; that kind of talk was out of the question for young women…or so she thought. The way Bella was speaking was the way the whores at the inns spoke to their customers, and she knew they would be in terrible trouble if they were caught behaving this way, but, there was no one else around…
Bella teased Paul for a few minutes more, then lifted up her blouse and showed him her tits. Jean was more shocked than Paul appeared to be, and didn’t know whether she should stay or go. Bella went on teasing him, “Come on, Paul! No one will see you, the girls will hide you on that side, and I will hide you on this side.”
Jean and Margo watched as Bella pressed Paul up against the lane wall, coaching him to pull his cock out.
“Come on, Paul. I’ll let you play with my tits if you let me jerk you off.”
Jean knew men liked to jerk off. Bella caught hold of Paul’s hand and shoved it up her blouse, while Jean watched as he fondled her breasts. As he did, Bella undid his breeches and slipped her hand in, pulling out his cock. Margo had her arm through Jean’s, and when they saw his manhood, Margo gripped her arm tighter; both gasped—Jean couldn’t believe what they were seeing!
“You know you want me to jerk you off,” Bella whispered seductively in Paul’s ear as her hand caressed the length of his shaft.
Jean saw the smile Paul gave Bella as he turned around to face the wall and let his breeches fall to his ankles. Paul leaned in and put his two hands against the wall, and Bella had her way with him. Jean and Margo watched, and listened as his moans grew louder, until finally he squirted his load all over the wall. Bella and Paul carried on feeling each other as if the others weren’t there, so the two young women ran off, laughing.
Jean wondered: will Steve want me to jerk him off? Jean answered her own question: of course he would. She was starting to think Steve must be the right one for her, or she wouldn’t be having these feelings and thoughts. She wondered what Steve’s manhood was like. She closed her eyes and pictured jerking Steve off, up against an alley wall, just like Bella had done.
Chapter Two
Jean and Margo sat behind their parents in church, and every time Steve looked over, they would giggle quietly. There was a lot of talk amongst the villagers about France going to war against Spain, and if they did, then the British might go to war with France, as well, and France wouldn’t survive two enemies. Rumours of spies in towns and villages across the countryside ran rampant; the King was said to have eyes and ears everywhere, looking and listening for traitors to the throne. If there were a war, King Louis would call all the men and boys to take up arms. Some of the women were crying at the thought of their husband and sons going to war.
Jean felt sick. Surely Steve wouldn’t be taken away from her before she had the chance to find out if he was the one?
She went to her mother. “Maman, is there going to be a war?”
Her mother hugged her. “We don’t know yet, and don’t you go worrying. If there is a war, your father and brother will be good soldiers and come back safe. We will pray to God to look after them.”
“Oui, Maman, we will pray every day.” Jean felt ashamed. She hadn’t thought about her father and her brother, or that a war could take three loved ones away from her. Her only thoughts had been of Steve.
On Wednesday, Steve was waiting for her. They walked hand in hand, and as they talked about the possibility of war, the mood changed. The more they talked, the more she felt she was falling in love with him, especially when he said she was the prettiest girl in the world.
It was growing dark and the east wind was blowing down the road. Jean didn’t want Steve kissing her goodnight on Mill Road again, so when they came to a back alley near her home, she stopped, and with a nod of the head, said, “If you want to kiss me goodnight, it would be better where no neighbours can see us.” Jean blushed at her boldness. “And we would be out of this wind.”
Steve smiled. He led her down the alley until they came to a back door, set deeper than the others. Jean settled into the threshold. Without any more to say, Steve caught hold of her and kissed her—not a long kiss, just a few short pecks.
“How many girls have you done this with?” Jean asked breathlessly as a strange feeling waved over her.
“None, you are my first love,” Steve murmured against her lips.
“You are the first boy to kiss me like that.” Jean had liked it when he told her she was his first love. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Surely une belle fille like you has been courted before?” Steve kissed her quickly, as if he had said the wrong thing. “‘If it’s true, I think I am the luckiest man in the world to be the first to kiss you.”
Jean’s hand was around the back of Steve’s neck. She didn’t want him to stop kissing her, so she pulled his head down closer and they kissed until her lips hurt.
Jean tried to keep her breasts from rubbing against his chest, but eventually she had her other hand around his waist, and was pulling him even closer. She swore she could feel his hard cock against her belly, and the picture of Bella jerking Paul off flashed in her mind. Jean wondered what she would do if he felt her breasts or put his hand up her skirt, but he didn’t; they just kissed and kissed until it was time to go.
As they walked hand in hand, Jean had to ask him, “You said I am your first love…does that mean we are now courting?” Once again, her boldness embarrassed her.
“J’aimerais ça…I would love it!” Steve exclaimed, and Jean could tell by his expression he couldn’t believe his good luck.
“Moi aussi!” Jean said, “But we mustn’t tell our parents yet,” she added.
Steve kissed her again, picking her up under her arms and swinging her around, right on the main road.
“I am with you and you are the prettiest girl in the world!” he shouted.
Steve’s display of happiness brought tears to Jean’s eyes, and she slapped his arm playfully once he put her down. “I am really not that pretty,” she laughed.
Steve put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her, while Jean put her arm around his back, and they continued their walk down Mill Road like the lovers they now were.
Jean couldn’t sleep again that night as she relived every kiss. A lovely, tingling feeling rushed through her body. Yes, she said to herself, I am in love! How could I fall in love so quickly? She knew she wanted to marry Steve and have his children. She wanted him to make love to her. She was thinking about his cock rubbing up against her as they kissed, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she would undo his breeches and pull it out for him.
Jean’s secret spot ached to be played with; her hand went down between her legs and found it, wet and waiting to be touched. Jean looked around the room to make sure her sisters were all sleeping. She turned over on her belly and spread her legs; she bit the pillow and buried her face in it to keep her moans quiet as she played with herself. She thought about making love to Steve, and she knew it was going to be in that same back alley up against that door. Her auntie’s words came to her: “When the right man comes along, he will turn you from a girl into a woman.”
Jean spent the next three days in a daze, thinking about Steve and fantasizing about them making love in the alley, in the countryside, in an old barn…even in her bed with her sisters sleeping nearby.
Margo called on Jean early Saturday evening to make sure Jean’s mother didn’t find extra work for her daughter. As they walked down Mill Road, Jean told Margo how she felt about Steve.
“Oh, Margo, Steve is such a wonderful kisser! His kisses set my body on fire, and he has the most beautiful blue eyes, and such a handsome smile!”
Margo smiled at the excitement in Jean’s voice. “It sounds to me like you’re en amour…in love,” she said.
“Oui, je suis!” Jean lowered her voice, “I think I want to make love to him—ce soir…tonight! Do you think it’s too soon?”
Margo told Jean she didn’t feel it was too soon; if she had a boyfriend, she wouldn’t wait too long because if there were a war she might not see him again. As the girls continued their walk, Steve appeared in the distance.
Jean said goodbye to Margo and ran to Steve, and he swung her around like a child before he kissed her. The smile on his face as he looked into her eyes confirmed her plans. It was too early in the evening to go down the alley—there were too many people about—so they took a slow stroll to kill time before they could make their way back to their spot.
They talked about the war, and Steve said his father didn’t think there would be conflict with Spain because the queen’s cousin was Spanish and he had visited her that week. He also felt the British had had enough the last time there was war, so he was keeping his fingers crossed there would be no fighting. They talked about their families again, and the rooms they both had at home. Jean told him they had only three small bedrooms: her parents and the baby in one, Jean’s three younger brothers in another, and her and her two sisters in the other—and there was another baby on the way. Jean was afraid she would end up an old woman looking after her brothers and sisters, when all she really wanted was a husband and children, and a house of her own.