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That One Time

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Jamie and Claire texted for an hour before he was sure that Claire had fallen asleep, since she was no longer answering.  He placed his phone on his nightstand and fluffed his pillow, letting sleep overtake him.  


Jamie was deep in sleep.  


In his dreams, he was writhing with pleasure.  He couldn’t be still.  His muscles tightened, his breath quickened, and his blood flowed and pulsed like quicksilver in his veins.  He was aware of his body beating in time with something, but he didn’t know what.  He tried to press closer to that feeling and couldn’t find it, but he knew it was there, just out of reach.  There was a heaviness between his legs that he wanted to ease.  He lifted his hips, looking for something.  He pressed it back with his hand, and he found the heartbeat.  His mind cleared only for a minute and when a vision of Claire flashed before him.  She was wearing that red bikini.  Her hard nipples were rubbing against his chest.  He pressed closer and closer, the beat of the quicksilver in veins humming faster and faster.  Suddenly, it shattered and warmth flooded his entire body, spreading from his head right down to his toes.  He felt that beat and was nearly drunk with it.  


He jerked awake and blinked his eyes, disoriented, his heart racing.  As his senses slowly returned, he realized that his hand was tightly wrapped around his cock.  His hand and stomach were covered in a thick warm substance.  




Looking down to survey the damage, he’d kicked his covers down and his boxer briefs were shoved down to his thighs.  He quietly got up and walked to his ensuite bathroom and reached for a washcloth.  He dampened it with warm water and cleaned up the mess, then rinsed it and tossed it with the dirty towels.  


He stood at the sink and braced his hands, head hanging down, trying to get his breathing under control.  He’d had wet dreams before, but none of them had ever involved anything he could remember.  He still very vividly pictured Claire in his dream.  


He knuckled his eyes, trying to erase the picture painted permanently in his brain.  


He was tired.  


Sighing, he climbed back into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.