Chapter 12

Then, for some crazy reason, all of them split and left Elly and me alone. The camera guys took their equipment with them and even glanced carefully about the room to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. I suppose they figured I might get mad at them and smash up everything, though the truth was I couldn't have cared less about their old equipment at the time. All I wanted to do was to rest, and after taking a good look at Elly, I knew she felt the same way, at least momentarily. I knew the bennies would stay with her a long time and that she would have "hot spells" again from the drug. I say I knew this, but the truth was I didn't know it-I merely thought it-because I had only heard about bennies. Guys had told me that bennies stayed with girls for a very long time, making her hot time and time again. Usually, you can't believe a word guys tell you about girls, but I figured the information might be okay this time. I looked at Elly again and saw her close her eyes as she slumped down on the bed and drew a sheet over her lower body. Her titties were still very much in view, but at the moment I wasn't turned on by the sight of them. Instead of looking at her boobs, I lay with my back to her and resting my head on the thick pillow began to think. At least I tried to think, but the stuff they had given me, possibly, now seemed to make me drowsy. I must have dropped off to sleep because I had the craziest, most far-out dream in the world.

It seemed (in the dream) that Mrs. Devine suddenly became a lot of women, and all of them were about to lie down in a vast field nearby. I watched them as they pushed their hair into place, all of them doing it at the same time and in the same manner. They then lowered their bodies to the ground as if they had been suspended in mid-air. All of the women-there must have been many scores of them-lay on their backs and pulled off their blouses to expose their titties. I gasped when I glimpsed those titties, hundreds of them, all over the place and stretching out as far as I could see.

The women, all of them, winked at me, beckoning to me with crooked fingers, and as I moved toward them, they disappeared entirely except for their titties. Now, I saw a vast field of female breasts, all of them round and pink and soft-looking. I knew what I wanted to do and proceeded to do it-I ran barefoot through the field of breasts, loving the touch of the soft flesh against the bottoms of my feet. I ran and ran for what seemed like hours, but the farther I strayed, the larger the field became until, finally, I knew there would never be an end to it. Titties would be there no matter how far I ran. This delighted me and (the dream taking an even more bizarre turn) I turned to a tree and spoke to it.

"Tree," I said. "What do you think about female breasts in a field?"

The tree sniffed, drew some of its branches up about its face and fastened me with a steel gaze. "Unless you are a dog in disguise," it cried angrily, "do not attempt to strike up an acquaintance with me. I am a tree and as such have no need for you, boy." It sniffed again. "It's because of your grandfather, you see, boy. I remember him well. Many of my best friends were cut down in their relative youth by that old man, curse him."

"Piss on you, Tree," I cried. "Don't curse my ancestor."

The tree made an effeminate gesture with its branches like a fag pushing at its hair. "Well now, boy," it said acidly, "if you want to start being nasty, two can play at that game."

"Oh..., " I cried. "Can you play games? I thought only humans played games. What sort of games can you play, tree?"

The tree shook its head slowly. "You don't understand me, boy, and I'm inclined to think you are stupid. Would you mind going away?"

"Why don't you come with me, tree? The two of us can trample tits all day long."

"I have no desire to trample tits, boy. I get my kicks by having the wind rub me off."

A great light dawned on me. "Oh," I cried. "I think I understand you. You have sex only in the autumn, don't you, tree?"

The tree yawned. "As a matter-of-fact, I do boy, but how did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"When you go off ... well, the stuff falls to the ground. The leaves. That's your stuff. Right?"

"You are correct. The wind, as I said before, makes me come, boy,"

I screwed up my face. "Boy, what a weirdo you are, tree. Standing there in one place all of your days. Waiting for a breeze to happen along in the fall so you can get 'em off. You're really dumb, tree."

The tree made a deep threatening sound in its trunk-throat.

"Hey," I cried, slightly scared now. "Take it cool, tree. I didn't mean to anger you."

The tree shook its branches and sniffed again. "Don't be afraid, son. My bark is worse than my..." But he never got to finish the statement, for a cloud swept me off my feet and carried me some distance away from the spot. After circling a bit, the cloud set me down on another field of female breasts.

"There you are, boy. Try walking on Oriental titties for a change."

"Am I in the Far East now?" I asked incredulously.

But the cloud had gone and I received no reply.

I looked about. All of the breasts had slanted eyes for nipples and all of them were staring at me as if waiting to see what I would do. This surprised me.

"What can I do?" I muttered, "but walk on tits. There's nothing else to see or do."

"So sorry, please," the tits cried in unison and disappeared briefly only to return as normal-looking breasts without slanted eyes for nipples.

I shook my head. "I must be dreaming," I muttered.

Then, suddenly, I seemed to be back in the football stadium, watching the two teams go at it. There was no one else in the stands, just me. The stadium lights were very bright and I could see the football guys on the field below very clearly. It was crazy, the way they looked. Not one of them had eyes. Where their eyes should have been were tits with tiny nipples and the nipples kept rolling about in the manner of eyeballs as most of them appeared to be winking at me from time to time. This made me mad. I didn't want a gang of guys winking at me. What the hell were those so-called tough football players-faggots? I began hollering at them to stop winking at me, but my words became confused and all that came out was a football cheer that made no sense at all.

The scene changed quickly and I was in front of our house staring through the windows. I saw my father apparently undressing my mother and I was shocked. Why couldn't he pull the shades down before doing such a thing? I then took a more careful look and discovered he wasn't undressing my mother but was, in fact, putting ornaments on a Christmas tree. I blinked several times and turned around to see Elly standing naked at my side. She grinned at me shyly.

"You didn't know mom was a Christmas tree before she met dad, did you, Tommy?" There was an impish look on her face.

"No," I replied. "I didn't know a thing about it."

Elly giggled. "She came straight out of a virgin forest. Untouched by the hand of man."

"Nuts," I said. "You've been reading Christmas carols again."

She screwed up her face prettily. "Well, fuck you, brother mine. Fuck you in your nose."

Immediately, my nose became very itchy, so to put an end to the itching I turned and ran away, not stopping until I was once again in the field of tits. I stood on them, putting my weight on first one foot and then the other and would have kept this up indefinitely except that someone called out to me to stop trampling the grapes to death. I moved away from the spot and stared down at the nearest set of tits.

"Did you speak to me?" I asked them.

"Wake up, Tommy," Elly cried in my ear. "You're dreaming."

I sat up on the bed, looked at my sister, blinked my eyes and shook my head and lay back down. "Let me sleep, Elly," I said. It must have been that she said nothing because I remembered her saying nothing, if that's possible, and the next thing I "knew" I was dreaming again.

An old hag had her arms about me and was trying to force a roller skate down my throat.

"I don't want it," I told her, trying to break free of her grasp.

"Take the roller skate, boy, and you'll get a hard-on that will never cease to be."

"Get the hell away from me, you old hag," I cried. "I don't want a hard-on that will never cease to be. How would I ever take a leak?"

"Boys don't leak," she told me severely. "Only dikes do."