They come more frequently now, these dreams that haunt and taunt and chide. I do not know what they are about, or whom. I cannot decipher the messages within because, upon waking, amnesia sets in. I’m left with an impression, but memory eludes me. And one cannot understand what cannot be remembered.
Usually, the details are unnecessary. I know what I said… What I felt… Who I talked to… What I shared of myself the night before. I know my stressors and my triggers, the positives and the negatives, and the cause of the effect(s) is almost always clear.
I woke up out of a dead sleep earlier this week… At 4:00am… With damp skin and soaked thighs… Stomach quivering and legs shaking… Clit twitching and pussy pounding… Gasping and moaning… On the brink of orgasm and drowning in my own arousal…
