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I Dream of Cleo	By : sketchpad Category: +S through Z > Tutenstein Views: 3884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tutenstein, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Dream of Cleo
- 1
Hathor...
It wasn’t so much a person Tutenstein saw as much as it was a presence he felt, while he rested fitfully in his sarcophagus one night.
He was feeling anxious since earlier that afternoon. Despite being in his coffin, he was completely awake and sulking in the darkness.
He heard the odd passerby and the gaggle of school kids on field trip, hoping against hope that Cleo’s voice was among them.
Algh sgh she wasn’t there that day, if she had been there, the anxiousness he was feeling then would have practically crippled him. He wanted to be with her so badly that day.
As it stood, the day slowly meandered into night. And, well past closing, with the near-hourly patrols of Jacobs, the security guard on duty, Tutenstein was tossing and turning in his ornate casket. Misty thoughts of Cleo tumbling mercilessly in his mind.
And that was when he finally felt, rather than heard or saw the Egyptian goddess of Love.
You feel the urge, Tut-ankh-en-set-amun...
She has such a lovely body...
You want her, don’t you, young king?
The mental image of Cleo Carter became the strongest presence in the libidinous areas of his mind and the thought of slipping his hand through his kilt and lovingly rubbing and stroking his verdant penis became as natural a thing as breathing had once been.
He could see her dancing in what looked like the inner sanctum of a temple devoted exclusively to Hathor, wearing a dancing girl’s outfit that left so little to his imagination. She held and rubbed herself seductively, the beat of some phantom, hypnotic music keeping her swaying and pulsing almost in sync to his approximate heartbeat.
It was a dream, he reasoned. It had to be.
He felt relief when he found himself approaching her as she blithely continued to dance, seemingly not noticing him at all.
When it looked as though he were half a yard away from her, he suddenly realized that every step he took afterward didn’t close the difference between them.
The girl’s slim, lithe body moved like a contented asp on a warm stone and Tutenstein’s mind and ardor screamed at him to go to her, run to her, fly to her, if need be. Just hold her body, kiss every single inch of her hot skin, make her wet and moan, and then, finally, enter her as deeply, as completely, as his passions and love for her could drive him.
Something that had not gone amusingly unnoticed by Hathor, as she finally deigned to appear at a respectable distance from the two of them.
Tutenstein’s glowing, sulfurous, eyes glanced with slightly disguised annoyance at the goddess. He knew what must have been going through Hathor’s mind. The humor of him in utter sexual frustration and the source of both the cause and the remedy of that frustration so tantalizingly close.
“She’s so close, isn’t she, Tut-ankh-en-set-amun?" Hathor cooed.
“Hathor,” Tutenstein asked breathlessly. “Why is this happening? Let me be with Cleo. Please, Hathor?”
Hathor looked at the boy as if he were a student who had potential but still had moments of cluelessness. “This is a dream, and you called me without the use of your Scepter. Your love for her, your lust for her, made this so, drawing me to your mind like a river.”
“I disturbed you,” he figured solemnly. “I didn’t mean to bother you if this is what this is about.”
The goddess brightened with placation. “No, you misunderstand, young king. All love is my province. I wish to help you,” she offered slyly. “After a fashion.”
“Help?” Tut almost lost his hot-bloodedness in that. “How?”
“I want you to play with yourself,” she said simply.
“Uh...I could do far better if you let me reach Cleo.”
“Ah, but not this time,” Hathor said as she conjured a plush, padded throne and sat herself down comfortably. “I haven’t felt the heat of someone pleasuring himself in the Mortal Plane in so long. My temples are empty and lifeless now, but I could feel the building heat in you, Tut-ankh-en-set-amun and I want to bask in it. To remember.”
The boy stared at her dumbly.
“’Tis a small boon I ask in return for my help in the past, hmm?” she said.
Tutenstein thought about it, and soon enough, saw the fairness in what she proposed. “Very well, Hathor. I will do as you say, but how wi-”
“Just use your imagination, of course,” Hathor broke in with a smile.
The boy mummy looked back at the dancing Cleo and pleasantly imagine her without her clothes, and in that selfsame second, her garb vanished and she moved to the ancient music in all her naked glory. Only the glint of her golden anklets, earrings and necklace clothed her brown skin in a dim, fiery glow.
After the surprise of that passed him, Tutenstein tensed up to move to her again when he heard Hathor playfully chide. “Ah, ah, ahh...Think about it. Think about her.”
He calmed himself down for a moment and thought about it, and then it hit him like a thunderclap.
With a lop-sided smile that was both part loving and part salacious, he sat down on the tiled floor and relaxed into a splay-legged lounge, one arm propping him upright and the other, sliding into his kilt and coaxing his penis into firmness and soon, hardness.
“Allow me,” Hathor said. She moved her hand in an almost blasé manner and next to one of the boy’s leg appeared a small jar of warm, scented oil.
Tutenstein gave Hathor an appreciative grin as he poured a dollop of oil onto his left palm and then slowly wet the glans and upper shaft of his penis with gripping strokes, up, down, up, down. He then concentrated solely on his beloved.
Cleo’s dancing suddenly slowed, as though she were changing her mind to stop in mid-action. Then, one of her hands slowly began to caress a young breast, its ruddy-brown nipple, swelling deliciously to Tutenstein’s satisfaction.
Cleo was breathing fast as she felt a firm sensation on her rear coupled with a tingling wet pressure on the top of her tit. She shivered and gasped: invisible lips suckled her like a newborn and an invisible hand kneaded her buttocks with a hungry grasp.
A tongue cou couldn’t see, then slowly lapped around her nipple, and before the expectation of more suckling lit up in her mind, hot breath, a soft nibbling and a slow, purposeful, wet suction closed around the swelling areola and unseen hands squeezed her in a lustful hug before the lips and tongue began to work on her other tit. Cleo lost her senses in the rush of ecstasy.
Although she futilely flexed her arms to hold someone who wasn’t there, Cleo closed her eyes and trembled to the phantom touches and kisses.
After a few minutes, the moist pressure eased from her breasts and she could feel electric contacts, kisses, dot her shoulder and then climb, as did her moans, along the sensitive junction between her shoulder and the base of her neck.
She cooed and bucked under her lips-massaged throat to more kisses. She could swear she was being slowly tasted upon, like a voracious predator that had been set upon her.
Tutenstein gave a playful smirk, that soon turned feverish as he stroked and rolled the head of his penis in his tight, oily grip. His approximate breath was becoming labored and he concluded that that was a good thing as he turned his attention back to Cleo and started to glance down her pelvis.
Suddenly, Cleo was caught off-guard and a sharp gasp exploded from her throat as she felt something...a finger? No, two fingers, subtly playing along her silky, soft vaginal lips like a delicate harp and then slip into her gradually with patient intent.
She arched her back, her knees buckled and she found herself writhing on the stone floor of Hathor’s temple. Both of her hands were busy massaging her breasts while her legs churned open under the unseen hand’s tender work, her hips grinding her ass into the floor with manic circles.
While her body spasmed and twitched in pleasure, Cleo’s head lifted suddenly in a gasp, but then she held it there when a kiss so soft, it made her heart jump, touched her lips. Cleo kissed back.
She was panting hard, her heart racing. She raised her tongue and could feel in the kiss, a tongue press and flick across her own, turning her on even more. Although there wo oto other mouth to block hers, and she could breathe normally, Cleo found herself near-breathless from that kiss.
By then, the one invisible hand below had been pumping fingers into her, making her do an entirely new dance. The second hand flew from her breasts and began to tickle her clitoris with circling strokes from its fingertips, while the first hand continued to work within.
Cleo broke from the invisible kiss in a gasp, her pulse pounding in her ears. She prepared for another kiss, but found that didn’t come.
At least not from the lips she was expecting, Tut knew teasingly as he added more slippery friction to his member with a moan.
Those same electric pecks and smooches carefully began to dance across her rib cage, then slowly upon her smooth belly, occasionally licking her belly button and sending her to orbit, and then, she discovered with exhilaration, circling her crotch.
She moved her hand away from her swollen area and the felt the phantom fingers ease out of her, her dew making the floor beneath her glisten.
Cleo shivered gleefully at the thought that came to her in a whirlwind of pleasure. Then she suddenly felt as though she were tumbling backwards though an atmosphere of delights, as those same electric lips and tonguckedcked, lapped, kissed and quietly, ultimately...ate her alive.
Whatever words Cleo whispered in her ecstatic delirium were never heard. She crossed her legs, trying to capture and hold, to no avail, the head that owned those incredible instruments that made light flash in the back of her mind, but she clamped only air as her ass rose, rotated and fell with each stroke of that tongue within her wet depths and every sucking kiss along her pinkish labial lips and clit.
A song of moans and cries flew from Cleo and her nails began to crease as she bblebbled her hands maddeningly against the stone floor.
The tongue licked harder and deeper and Cleo’s chest heaved and her pelvis was lifter to allow more penetration and stimulation.
The girl’s moans and her ravishment by his own desirous imagination made Tutenstein’s Heart Scarab thrum inside him. His hunger for her ran wild and his body tingled for the need of touch, even in the throes of his masturbation. He felt so in control, yet at the same time, he wished longingly to feel her.
By now, the invisible lips and tongue had been sucking and nibbling on Cleo’s clitoris. Her body’s movements were almost all pleasure-reflexive, reacting to the slightest touch without any conscious thought, and her moaning was cut off by the occasional joyous sob.
Then the lips and tongue gently parted from her with a quiet shlup, and she lay panting in a naked, breathless heap.
‘It is time, now,’ Tutenstein thought. ’I can’t deny it any longer. She must have it all.’
He could see Cleo’s trembling, open-legged lounge on the floor nearest him and was swept away by her look of invitation that made his lust for her reach new heights.
He applied more oil to his shaft and stroked more intensely as his eyes roamed over every sensitive part of Cleo’s body, beginning and ending with her swollen ready privates.
Tutenstein’s head twitched almost on its own accord as he consciously fought a pre-orgasmic jolt that flew his spine. “Pace yourself,” he ordered himself through clenched teeth.
Cleo moaned again as she felt those same hands caress her knees and inner thighs, coaxing her legs to part even more.
‘Oh, Tut...‘ A thankful smile flowed across her face as she began to feel, what she knew without a doubt, was the first inch of penis. A familiar-feeling penis, that began to bury its way gently into her soft rose.
She gasped as another inch or two sunk deeper, filling her more with its rough girth. She arched her eager hips upward and with a amorous sigh, Cleo took the cock completely into her.
The boy mummy was inflamed now and his body tensed more as he watched Cleo writhe under his mental love-making. With a quick, tight, downward jerk on his cock, he thought about thrusting again.
And that was when Tutenstein’s imaginary penis promptly drove into her again, causing Cleo to pant loudly.
It also made all of his self-control leave as he jacked his hand up and down his cock faster while at the same time, he strove to not cum until he was sure that Cleo, too, was on the brink.
That translated in his dream shaft riding Cleo furiously as she opened her legs as wide as she could and pushed her hips into the air, bucking against the force of an invisible groin that sought to drive its dick as fast and as deep as possible.
After a few minutes of hard riding, she could feel the cock easing out of her warmth and she sighed in protest.
The boy king groaned as he slowed a bit, holding back the rising orgasm with some effort. Fighting against cumming hurt a little, but he was willing to see it through somehow.
He waited a moment, his breathing becoming more controlled as he watched Cleo, who seemed to have come out of her coital daze.
“What...Why...aaahhh!” Those were the only clearly audible words Tutenstein and Hathor heard Cleo cry out before the boy, oil in hand and hand on cock, began rubbing with renewed vigor.
The imaginary cock drove into her again with accuracy. Cleo felt her vagina melt around Tutenstein’s mental dick as he pounded her like a machine, rocking her entire body.
He closed his eand and pictured himself kissing her again. Gentle kisses pitter-patted across her breasts, her throat, her shoulders. Her panting picked up.
The boy mummy pantomimed licking something in the air and just as quickly, one of Cleo’s hands was brought up. She felt the boy’s mental tongue lightly lap the ticklish center of her palm and it nearly drove her insane.
From her vantage point, Hathor saw Tutenstein lie on his back, his hips, like Cleo’s, grinding against a partner only the other could feel, his penis rigid and pointing high.
“They are both providing the most excellent sport,” she thought while she watched Tut moan and pant and thrust into the air and Cleo was ridden harder and harder.
“Fa-Faster! Faster!” Tutenstein heard Cleo plead and felt his own pressure build to the breaking point.
No longer willing to hold back, he increased his hand speed and could feel the sensation starting to come over him, like a sun rising within. He was at the brink...
“Oh, yes! Yes, don’t stop! Don’t stop!” she sang as he rammed into her brutally, both bodies awash with sweat.
“Ah, aaahhh! C-Cleoohh...I-I’m coming!” Tut shouted as he felt his testicles throb unbearably.
“Wa-Wait! Come together!” his girlfriend gasped.
Their passionate cries filled the temple chamber as they ripped into their collective orgasm.
He let out a throaty growl as greenish, ectoplasmic cum exploded out of his cock in a thick blast that trailed almost a foot away from where he lay.
Cleo felt the sensation of Tut spurt deep within her, and feeling him come inside her cauher her to come with equal force.
The feeling was mind-blowing as she let out a scream as the pleasure overwhelmed her.
For Tut, everything went white and he collapsed in a nearly motionless, nearly lifeless heap beside his equally prone beloved, feeling the most contented and most in love he had felt in many a day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Tutenstein slept as soundly as he had ever been in the museum, across the city, in the Brownstone home of Cleo Carter, or more specifically, in the mind of Cleo Carter, Hathor looked on with a thoroughly satisfied air.
“How do you feel, Cleo?”
Cleo sat up on the temple floor, still shaking from her orgasm. Her hand was sticky from her cum and her nipples were raw and tender. She wore a weary smile. “That was incredible, Hathor.”
A little ways from her, a completely spent and slowly disappearing dream Tut-ankh-en-set-amun lay unmoving, his erection starting to soften.
“Indeed. Your imagination proved to be very strong,” Hathor said. “Surpassed only by your feelings for him.”
Cleo gave a slow, begrudging smile. “Yeah.” Then added. “Although I would have liked to have held him while I drove him crazy in my dream.”
“Maybe,” the goddess conceded. “But yost ast admit, being in control of his passions can be fun, as well.”
Cleo knew that Hathor was right, and as she coyly pretended to consider what she said, the girl thought back to what had transpired tonight: The dream of her entering Hathor’s temple, meeting Hathor and seeing Tut standing in the center of the chamber, his firming erection plain for her to see, not being able to touch him without touching herself, gradually settling into her intense masturbation while her mind made love to her now vanished dream Tutenstein, mentally pulling his strings with pleasure to make her even hotter.
She was glad she was thinking so much about Tut when she met Hathor in her soon-to-be wet dream. She was feeling so anxious lately...
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I Dream of Cleo