Kit lay restless in the dark, unable to get comfortable in his own bed.A single sheet felt too heavy, scratchy, and hot. But without the sheet, he was cold, his skin hunching up in goosebumps. One pillow left his head too flat on the mattress, making him feel like he was tilted backwards. Two pillows gave him a crick in his neck.With pajamas, he was stifling and constricted. Without them, he was too vulnerable to relax and go to sleep. Music from the small bedside radio irritated him, even when tuned to the normally soothing classical station. Silence, though, was oppressive and forbidding.Arousal stiffened his loins, but he could not seek relief. Whenever he tried, the fantasy images he conjured turned to scenes that left him guilty and ashamed. He tried thinking of Marianne Devereaux, his dream girl for as long as he could remember.For a moment, he saw her in his mind's eye. Marianne, blonde and beautiful, her clothes falling away to reveal full rosy-tipped breasts and a puff of
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