Is it me telling you about my dream, or am I remembering what went on in Munich?”“I don’t know Cal,” I answered, “but I read somewhere that ...reams are your mind’s way of sorting out things that have happened. Maybe it’s both.”“Then what should we do?” she asked.“I think you need to tell this to someone, a professional,” I suggested.“But who? By the time we get to see someone, I may have forgotten it, I probably will have,” she answered.“Then write it down,” I said, “everything you can.”She. I gave my dick a squeeze through my pants. The outline left nothing to be imagined. As soon as I pulled my boxers down, it shot towards the ceiling. Using the precum as lube, I went to work. I wasted no time picking up speed. Unfortunately, I had to get back to work so there was no time to enjoy a slow build. Before long, I bit my lip to fight back a groan. One hand squeezed my balls while the other hand furiously pumped my shaft. Her voice entered my mind, “Gimme that chocolate dick, baby.” A. More

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