When social constructs of what was appropriate were no longer in his way, Mark dreamt of Sarah. In his dream, Sarah ended up with her head on his chest making soft moaning noises as if that act alone gave her pleasure. She woke him by gently moving his hand down to her shirt to undo the buttons. Mark gently kissed her neckline, and her rhythmic sighs of pleasure urged him to go lower. She smelled wonderful, it wasn't her shampoo or perfume, it was her. The smell of her body was intoxicating, he had never smelled anything so provocative. Sarah ran her hands through his hair and sighed louder as Mark reached her stomach. The muscles of her abdomen twitched as he kissed them. Sarah pushed Mark's head lower, and when he had almost reached her center, he woke up.
It was early morning, and the
