A Blogovella by Ezzie Dryar (Anne Martin)

7. The Wettest of Dreams


YOU dreamt of me last night.  I can tell.  I can smell the sex on you.  It never quite goes away in the shower.  Don’t be embarrassed.  I dreamt of you, too.  I like that kind of dreams.

Did you get up and change your pants?  Or did you sleep in your own mess?  I kept mine on, but of course I wouldn’t make as much of a mess as you.  I love that smell.  I love love love that smell.  I like my smell, too, but it’s not as prolific as yours, all over you, the sheets, the image of me that you dreamt about. Mmmmm.

Oh, you DREAMt of me last night.  Was I role playing or fancy dress?  Maid, nurse, dominatrix, I can do them all in dreams.  I can even do men (if that is what you prefer) – that’s the power of dreams.  They can do anything.  You can’t control them.  I can.  Your dreams, that is.

You dreamt OF ME last night.  Imagine the real thing.  It’s even better.  Do you dream in color?  I do.  Last night’s was red.  Do you hear?  Do you feel?  Do you touch?  I do.  Especially in that kind of dream.  Do you taste?  Taste is my favorite sense; it’s related to smell.  You can tell a lot about a person by how they smell, but taste does it for me.  What did I taste like last night?  Remember?  I do.  The bottom of your feet.  Did you like that?  Loved it.  Remember?  Well, pay better attention, because …

You WILL dream of me TONIGHT.  I hope your partner doesn’t mind.


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