Join Free! | Login 

   Popular! Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry
Where Authors and Readers come together!

Signed Bookstore | Authors | eBooks | Books | Stories | Articles | Poetry | Blogs | News | Events | Reviews | Videos | Success | Gold Members | Testimonials

Featured Authors: Kim Lambert, iOralya Ueberroth, iEdie Batstone, iJ.-F. Bouchard, iSubbarao Mukkavilli, iMaryanne Raphael, iAaron Cole, i
  Home > Mainstream > Poetry
Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry     

Mark M Lichterman

  + Follow Me   

· 1,765 titles
· 5,370 Reviews
· Share with Friends!
· Save to My Library
Member Since: Jun, 2008

   My Blog
   Success Story
   Contact Author
   Read Reviews

· Becoming

· For Better or Worse

· The Climbing Boy

Short Stories
· BK1: Becoming; 1944#5

· BK1: Becoming; 1944#4

· BK1:Becoming;1944#3

· BK1:Becoming;1944#2

· BK1: Becoming; 1942#2&1944#1

· BK1:Becoming;1942 # 1 (Xrated)

· BK1: Becoming; 1941#2

· BK1Becoming: 1941 #1

· BK1:Becoming; 1940#3

· BK1: Becoming:1940#2

· A Jewish Boycott

· Betrayal in Benghazi

· Did You Know?

· The 2000 Year Old Man

· Social Security History

· Lost C. Burnett Skit


· J. Carson as R. Reagan

· The Pale Blue Dot

· Listen Old Timers

· Really, What If

· Words, I Need Words!

· Sex Now

· Smoke in The Wind

· Young

· Elderly Woman

· As Man And Woman

· Without A Woody?

· Nostalgia

· A Near Christmas Day

         More poetry...
· For Better or Worse now on Kindle

· Becoming Video Trailer

· Book Fair. Who's coming?

· Article in Ventura County Star 8/17/08

Mark M Lichterman, click here to update your web pages on AuthorsDen.

Books by Mark M Lichterman
  Wet Dream 1&2 X Rated
by Mark M Lichterman
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Rated "PG" by the Author.

Share   Print   Save

Recent poems by Mark M Lichterman
•  Elderly Woman
•  November
•  Words, I Need Words!
•  Really, What If
•  Sex Now
           >> View all 410



Wet Dream 1 X Rated

January 1947


The twelve year old boy lay at an extremely comfortable plateau.


Feeling the cool breeze from beneath the parted window as,

pulling the blanket over his head,

the boy felt the warm vapor of his breath

and his comfort:

physical and mental was complete.


The well of sleep deepened,

and deepened yet.


Now came a bright form in the tunnel’s dark,

vaporous distance

and the boy moved towards it.

As he came closer the figure dwindled.

As he began to run the figure receded into nothingness

leaving the tunnel in total blackness.


The light!

The boy ran to the light.



but yet he remained in blackness…


Suddenly the bright form was back

and it was closer

but still too far away

and he could not see what it is.

But he must see what it is

and so he ran to it.


The light remained stationary,

Yet, as he came to it,

it came no closer

so the boy ran faster,





The light is her!


Waving his arms,


Running, “Wait,” he called.

“It’s me!”


The light’s away motion suddenly stopped.


“Wait, wait! It’s me.”


Stationary now,

she opened her arms to him

and she was as the old,

faded picture he’d seen:


She was naked

and he could see her so clearly:

her face,

her long, braided hair…

her breasts.


Repeating the words

the older boys had taught him:

“I want to touch your titties!’

The boy mumbled in his sleep.

Reaching to her,

she was just out of reach.

 I want to see your cunt!”

He looked “there”…

But not knowing what to see,

there was nothing there;

nothing but a symmetrical,

one-dimensional hole that

the boy was able to see through,

to the blackness behind.


 “I want jack-off in your cunt,

only then it’s called fucking.”


“But,” pointing her finger at him,

“you’re just a little kid!”


Looking down,

he realized he was naked,

and that he had an erection.

But it was not his penis

but a different penis,

one he had seen…



Wet Dream 2


…As some boys may

occasionally do,

finding it exciting

to masturbate

with another boy watching,

our twelve year old boy

forced to watch as a

much larger,

much older boy did so,

the older boy being



Now, within the depth of his dream,

holding his penis,

his different penis,

he moved his hand down,

forcing the dangle of foreskin to glide over the glans…

then up again,

and down again,

and each time

—not exactly the impression

the older boy had envisioned –

Each time the boy moved his hand downward,

the head of a rabbit popped through,

and it looked so funny…. 

And it felt so nice.


“I am not a kid!”

Proud of it,

showing it,


I’m not a kid ’cause I got a boner!”


It felt so nice holding his penis

that was another kid’s uncircumcised  penis.

 The head of a rabbit popping through,


 Pointing it upward

 so the shadowy lady might see,



Moving his hand upward,

and downward.

And it felt so nice.


Up and down.


Holding himself through the opening of his pajamas,

unaware of the movement,

the sensual sensation exciting,  

the boy dropped deeper into his tunnel…



Throughout his twelve years he had

fondled himself hundreds of times,

always at night or in the morning

when the need to urinate had caused an involuntary erection.


Now it was different.

Now the sensation was more pronounced.


Up and down.


More urgent.


Up, down.


Harder, faster.


More friction was created along the hard,

thin shaft of the twelve year old boy’s penis.


Harder, faster.

Up, down. Up-down.


His body jerking with the powerfully wrenching spasms,

the boy moaned aloud from his deep place

as he sensed the warmth that began in the area of his rectum,

testicles and groin then spread throughout his entire body that,

even in his sleep,

caused him to shudder at the convulsing sensations of a child’s first orgasm…



its immediate climax deeply relaxing

as though having relieved himself of a very full bladder

after holding off a long time

—a very long time.


His eyes opened.


Becoming aware,

he stared into the darkness

a number of seconds,

then, Oh, no.


No! he thought,

it can’t be! I’ve “made” in bed!

Throwing the blanket off,

he rushed from his bedroom to the bathroom

but his pajamas were dry,

absolutely dry!


Was I dreaming?

Yeah, it had to be a dream!

Or maybe I was hangin’ out and only got the bed wet.

He shuddered. The bed, wet!

Rushing back to his room

he felt the sheet and blanket.


The bed was dry!

Was I dreaming?

The boy wondered again.


Trying to remember,

he crawled back into bed,

Yeah, he thought,

I must have been dreaming.


 The boy fell asleep.




©May22, 2012 / Mark M Lichterman


Want to review or comment on this poem?
Click here to login!

Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!

Reviewed by Laura Fall
Truly fascinating writing my friend Laura
Reviewed by Annabel Sheila
And those dreams really do seem REAL......penned to make the reader feel the emotions of the young lad....well done, Mark.

Your pal,
Reviewed by Andy Turner
now i'll need therapy. lol.

A friend of mine has appeared in that mag and fiesta. The blokes in the company stores had her picture hung up, she was not amused, but the sad thing is how other lassies hated her for it, the boss tried to s**g her, and i had to defend her as her union rep. That was in 85, now she's a real bloater. lol.
Popular Poetry (Mainstream)
  1.  in time for Mother's Day
  3.  Talking to an Ancient Moonah Tree.
  4.  The Pursuit of Happiness
  5.  WE ARE
  6.  Disposable Love
  7.  unraveling...
  8.  Puffs of Smoke
  9.  Nowadays
  10.  Traffic Light

Authors alphabetically: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Featured Authors | New to AuthorsDen? | Add AuthorsDen to your Site
Share AD with your friends | Need Help? | About us

Problem with this page?   Report it to AuthorsDen
AuthorsDen, Inc. All rights reserved.