Option Seven

An eBook By David O Dyer Sr.

She got home at ten, went through her nighttime ritual and by eleven was in bed.

She knew she was dreaming. Somehow, she could always tell. If the dream was good, she allowed it to continue, but if it wasn't, she woke herself up. As usual, she was sleeping in the buff. A man she dearly loved lay beside her, stroking, kissing, nuzzling and snuggling. She lay there, allowing him to do whatever he liked and, when his hands parted her thighs, she didn't resist. He hovered over her and she welcomed his lips to hers. She stroked the stubble on his cheeks, lifted her legs and said, "Do it, Tater! Do it now!"

She sat straight up in bed. "Tater?" Her entire body trembled. She felt dirty, rushed to the bathroom and emptied her bladder.

Slipping between the sheets she thought, shrimp and beer must not mix. Tony tossed and tumbled and, finally, sleep returned.

Fingers combed through her hair and nails massaged her scalp as a talented tongue brought her nipples to swollen peaks. Lips kissed down her belly, pausing at her navel, while slender hands rolled her breasts in tiny circles. She knew she was dreaming and she willed the dream to continue. So this is what it's like to have a woman make love to you, she observed. The tongue trailed lower and she lifted her legs. "Oh, Carla," she said to her dream lover, "that feels so good."

"Carla?" Tony jumped from the bed and the glowing numbers on her clock radio informed her it was four-thirty. "Damn!" she exclaimed. "What's wrong with me?"

She rushed to the shower and turned on only the cold water tap. A new day had begun.

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