I woke up to my alarm, which was not really an alarm, but a set time where a radio station turns on really loud. I never really remember my dreams, wh...ch is something new, I always used to remember my dreams. My body is sweating, and in the back of my head I always think: ”Did I pee myself?.” Of course I didn’t because that would be silly. I don’t know why it would be silly, because I had no clue if I did pee myself or not. I could only find that out if I smelt my wetness which was either sweat. I could feel the ache between my own legs; I could feel the wet spot on my shorts formed by the pre-ejaculate leaking from my cock. I didn’t touch it though; I didn’t even think about it. The scene before me was hypnotic—I was paralysed by desire.She let the towel drop to the floor as she rolled onto her back, raising her knees and spreading herself open as far as the table would permit. There was fire in her eyes now. They roved over my body, lingering on the strained, damp fabric of my. More

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