Nice Dream

There’s an indeterminate span of time between asleep and awake. Those bleary moments, waves of thought washing over us as we struggle to gain or lose conscious- ness. Where dreams blur with reality, taking on aspects

and influence from each other.

The shriek of an alarm clock is translated into the cries of some prehistoric flying creature chasing us through Elysian Fields. The scent of bacon spurs a vivid scenario of gorging ourselves on anything and every- thing within sight.

The slow, rhythmic thrusts of a cock between swollen labia elicits dreams of multiple members in multiple orifices.

This is how I awaken; gradually, with the dawning realization that at least one turgid member from my

reveries is truly flesh and blood. Sliding between my thighs from behind as I lie on my side, body curled into the blankets surrounding me. A hand, presumably accompanying the penis in its adventures, is trailing feather soft over the curve of my breasts, fingers occa- sionally tweaking my nip