Epilogue of Ladders

The Vision

In the visions, which seemed to not want to limit themselves to the safety of his bed at night, he was doing things to Zoe that was… special.

Those were things that only his mind understood. Things he would not know how to discuss with anyone. Bret just understood one thing, the vision felt amazing.

In his moments of reverie, Bret saw himself on the ladder. Only difference, this time, he was not in any kind of pain. He was teasing and flirting with Zoe. She was taken in by his wit and was looking ever so delightfully flushed.

Unlike the actual ladder where the gal violated his being, in his vision, Bret manages to talk Zoe into passing him up on the ladder. Whispering some extremely naughty words, she would blush and giggle and rest her sweet bosoms on him as she laughed and attempted to hold on to her lady like ways.

At some point, she would ask for assistance to clear the top rung and get into the loft. He would naughtily warn her that she might like the help too much. She would wiggle her rear, smile, blush, then mockingly gasp about his innuendo.

Of course, he would be the perfect gentleman and help her over the top rung and secure her safely into the loft. She would be overwhelmed with gracious joy of being safely assisted. She would bat her eyes and tilt her head in the most coquettish invitation a man could ever want. With a gentle flick of her head, he would understand that he can help himself to her any way he’d like.

While that scene was weird in setting, Bret always noted how viscerally real the feelings would get after seeing Zoe’s invitation.

That’s when things would take a turn for the… shall we say… mature

What Happens in the Loft, Stays in the Loft

The vision would go from 3D real to 4k hyper intense after her invitation. Zoe’s lip would pout ever slightly, causing blood to rush and fill his manhood. His legs would start to feel eager to chase Zoe anywhere needed to ensure capturing her and holding her close to him.

Bret would listen intently to the rustling of fabric as Zoe playfully turned onto all fours to maneuver around the crawl space leading up to the landing. He would be following just close enough to have her feel safe but far enough so he doesn’t feel like he’s preying on her.

As they reach the landing, she would pause, albeit on purpose, and he wouldn’t. He’d essentially move up on her and mount her as a very primal hungry beast ready to tear his way into his prize in the most loving yet manly of ways.

As the years passed, at that moment, Zoe went from skittering away with childish giggle to holding station and not moving away from him.

This change made him feel extremely hard and often would wake him up from the dreams. In the early days, Bret was angry about being awakened from the vision, as he’d not be able to slip back into dreamland to enjoy it. Sometimes, he would wake up all drenched from more than just sweat. In the later days, even if he woke up, the vision continued and got hotter still.

In the hotter visions, Zoe appeared to be resisting his gentle forward nudge and her moans from feeling his heated wood further flustered him with adrenaline. Bret so wanted to make the vision real.

As Zoe kept station, his right hand found her right thigh and started to work it’s way north. The gentle caress registered the faint quiver of Zoe’s muscles as she exhaled in what sounded like desire and want. Her back would arch and she would gently press back on him.

Eager to move forward, he would use his left hand to press on her lower back to further encourage the arch, as the pressure in his pants felt more comfortable nestled between her cheeks.

Eventually, his right hand found their mark. She was going commando. His heart would leap for joy as beads of sweat started to pour out of him as his breath deepened into a thirsty rasp. He could feel the pulsations of her eagerness with his fingers as he started to slowly circle around her territory as he familiarized himself with his spoil.

In the later years, his hands would bravely enter the sanctum of her womanhood as he enjoyed the gasp of pleasure as her body quaked with joy and pleasure. He would reach up with his left hand and grab as much of her bountiful hair as he dared and pulled just enough to feel her body rock hard with anticipation.

Not wanting to risk pushing too fast, Bret often forced himself to count from 20 to 1 as slowly as he could as he massaged and explored the warmth of her womanhood while leaving his ring finger to circle about her clit. Her pulsating lips would moisten greatly and her walls seemed to pull his fingers more deeply into her.