February 7, 2001

Sunday night started out innocently enough.  Dinner, some wine ... some time spent on the computers before bed.  We'd had a pleasant tea time earlier (our new ritual of sitting on the couch and chatting is perfect) and everything just seemed to work together wonderfully.

     Including the after-dinner brandy we decided to indulge in. 

     Apparently more brandy than either of us needed, judging by how fuzzy we ended up being on Monday.  i swear it didn't seem like we had that much!  But the steady neeed-neeed of the alarm clock at 6:10 a.m. was excruciatingly painful as it penetrated my brain.  (Yeah, i know - i'm majorly reminded of the summertime alarm clock the neighbours had - but at least i turn mine off!)

     It gets worse.  Not only did i have a lousy night of sleeping, i had tons of dreams, most of which i don't remember except for the last one.  The best one of course, and the one the alarm clock interrupted.  i was in bed (in my dream i mean) with my arms stretched up behind my head, clutching a pillow and Himself was doing things to my body - okay ... so we were doing the "wild thang".  But it was one of those dreams that you would swear was really happening.  It seemed that my body really was moving, that my hips were pushing up - that i was really having sex.  i remember feeling anxious and excited. i remember begging.  i was very, very close to orgasm.

     THEN THE DARN ALARM CLOCK WENT OFF.  Instead of me.  Darn, darn, darn.

     i woke up unfulfilled. And confused at the sensations still very much apparent. i managed to pull myself out of the bed and weave down the hall to the bathroom.  my skin felt flushed - hot and dry and i was still aroused.  my eyes, on the other hand, were beyond any kind of description other than 'ouch'.  Blinded by the light took on a whole new meaning when i hit the switch.

     i think i knew who i was by noon.  i functioned on auto-pilot until then and filled my belly with bread in an attempt to settle it.  It turned out to be a very long day.  A day of recovering, but also a day of longing because the dream lingered around me.  In fact, it's two days later and still vivid in my mind.  It's not the first time this type of dream has happened to me though.  i have had erotic dreams quite a few times and most of the time i will wake up during the orgasm.  Yet i am not in any way touching myself.  i suppose that's why i find it so baffling - trying to figure out how it happens.

     It is however, the first time i've had such a dream so rudely interrupted! am i to be forever plagued by alarm clocks?   

 

      More later ... even though i had some other things i've been thinking about lately - it seems more important right now that i share the time reading quietly in bed, snuggled up with Himself (who's feeling grumbly from a sore hip).  Sometimes the best D/s things are the ones that seem the most vanilla.