I run the tip of my thumb up his inner thigh and he squirms, struggling to close his legs. I grin. His little legs, smaller than my fingers, are pried wide open with the easiest nudge.
It's 6am. I'm sitting up in bed, naked. My hair's a mess. Sheets cover my lap. I've been waiting for this my whole life: The weight of a grown man's entire, compact little body in the palm of my hand. Warm, pulsing flesh in my grip.
This is better than masturbating.
*
If you've lucid dreamt before, you'll understand what's going on here a little better. I had been attempting to lucid dream for months when, one morning, I finally got what I wanted.
It's 6am. I'm sitting up in bed, naked. My hair's a mess. Sheets cover my lap. I've been waiting for this my whole life: The weight of a grown man's entire, compact little body in the palm of my hand. Warm, pulsing flesh in my grip.
This is better than masturbating.
*
If you've lucid dreamt before, you'll understand what's going on here a little better. I had been attempting to lucid dream for months when, one morning, I finally got what I wanted.