Wet screams.
“Are you okay?” My next-door neighbor asked as I walked outside, Friday morning.
“Uh…Yeah. What?”
“I heard you scream last night,” she explained.
“Oh Gawd,” I knew it was just a matter of time.
“I thought maybe it was a bug. Or a bad dream.”
“Probably a mix of both. I have night terrors,” I shrugged nonchalantly, having long since abandoned any need to feel embarrassed. “Usually about spiders.”
“Oh no. I’ve woken up with a spider on my face before,” she raised her eyebrows as my own features fell in response to her failed attempt at commiseration. “Uh-oh! I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Uhhh –” I grimaced exaggeratedly. “It certainly isn’t going to help. But I’m sure you would – you WILL – hear them again, regardless. Sorry!”
The real question is whether or not she’ll ever mention overhearing my other sleep disorder: night pleasures.
“‘Oh yeah! Yeah harder!” I have apparently hollered during the night. “HARDER! PUT IT IN MY ASS! Yeah!”
“I thought you had someone over,” my former roommate told me the next day. “Then I saw your retainer case, open and empty in the bathroom, and I realized you were alone.”
Thus far, that has been the only documented occurrence of this particular – and, according to my Google research, scientifically unrecognized – nocturnal outburst. So, it may be that my neighbor will only ever have to listen to my screams of terror, not titillation.
However –
While I am courteous enough to curtail my conscious expressions of ecstasy, it is good to know that I have already established a plausible out should I be unable to restrain the urge to moan and shout.
I wish my lucid, paralyzing night terrors – where I probably beat Mariah’s current octave range when I scream – were fluid, acrobatic night pleasures.
Omjizz. I love you baby vegaz<3
This site is the shit. I wouldn't know you were such a…sexual person from the AB p-cast alone.