It’s Rachel, she’s the raging slut in my dream. My thoughts criss-cross this topic and I become oblivious to Tegan. She had quit her dance, remo...ed my shorts, and was jerking and sucking my lifeline. That was when doubt crept into my consciousness. If it’s not Rachel, I’m fucked. What if the monster of my dream is Tegan? Or Aimee? The monster was a dark angel, a disguised evildoer. It can’t be any of them, I was convinced. “The girls are alright,” I said out loud. Tegan pulled her. I wiggled out of his arms and went to clean myself up; bringing back awarm flannel I gently cleaned his manhood finishing off by giving it alittle kiss.I returned to bed and snuggled into his arms, after no sleep the nightbefore we soon drifted off wrapped in each others arms.When I awoke the next morning, someone was busy eating my Tush, as Iawoke I thought I was dreaming as an orgasm hit me making me squeal insurprise, this of course lead to some early morning delight as ourbodies entwined. More

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