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I had a wet dream last night. I thought these things were supposed to end (I’m thirty-eight), but I still get random erections and I haven’t had sex with my wife for a month – she’s been working late – or had a wank, so maybe it was bound to happen.

The dream was porn stuff. The Asian woman from the movie I’d been watching before I went to bed was the star. Or at least the main character (do porn movies have main characters?). I was with her. We were talking or running from something. Then we were in a hotel room and she was naked on the bed, knees up, arms back. She leant back and came. Then I came, and woke to my bed and my wife beside me.

The room was cold and dark. I came in the dream, not here (my wife was facing away from me), but my boxers were soggy and sticky. I touched them and pulled the duvet back. Little islands of sperm lay on the sheets and slithered over my pubes and onto my thighs. I closed my eyes and tried to dream them away, but when I opened them they were still there.

I sat up. I thought, maybe if I go back to sleep, it’ll disappear. The stain will dry and fade. Then: but the marks will be visible. They always are. What will she say? What will she accuse me of? And if I tell her, will she laugh? Or be angry that I cheated on her in a dream? What if I say the dream was about her?

I stood up and went through to the bathroom. That would be okay. I usually go once or twice a night, and this would be one of those times. I wouldn’t disturb her. She’s a heavy sleeper.

In the bathroom, I saw the stain was extensive, a deeper blue against the blue of my boxers in the shape of a country I don’t know the shape of. I thought, what if they don’t dry and she wakes in the morning and wants a hug, a snuggle, something more? But she hadn’t wanted anything for a month. I could go naked. She would say something then. But I could say I waited for you, I wanted to surprise you, but then you were late again and I fell asleep. Not romantic, I’m sorry. But then she’d feel guilty. Or at least I hoped she would, and we would make up for the last month. Only then she’d wonder why I produced hardly any sperm. Then again, would she notice?

I took my boxer shorts off and pissed and wiped the end of my cock and squeezed out the excess. I decided I would put on another pair – she hadn’t seen what I’d been wearing from the day before, wouldn’t have looked before joining me in bed – but when I turned out of the bathroom, naked, boxers in hand ready to throw them in the dirty washing basket, she was there in the dark, pyjamas wrapped around her.

When she spoke, her voice was sleepy. I tried to put the boxers out of view. She said, hi, Nige, and walked past me and into the bathroom. I dropped the boxers in the basket by the door and turned to look at her on the toilet. My name’s not Nige.

I said, you okay? She said, yes, and tearing off two pieces of toilet paper, wiped, flushed and stood up. I made to let her pass. She said, why are you naked? I said, why not, and winced, waiting for another question, but she said nothing and headed back through to the bedroom. I followed – what if she got back in on my side? – but she got back in on hers, and I got back in on mine. I made sure I missed my dream when I lay down. I said, I love you, and she said something in reply and rolled away from me.

When I woke this morning, she’d already gone. I looked at the bed sheet and the stain was clear and in the shape of the Isle of Wight. I stripped the bed and put the pillow cases and sheet in the wash along with my boxers. Then I put new bed clothes on.

It was as if the dream had never happened.

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16 thoughts on “Wet Dream

  1. I loved this line “Little islands of sperm”. I found that to be great descriptive writing. I loved how you capture his emotions as well. enjoyable read.

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