That was an interesting way to wake up

This morning my orgasm woke me up.

Nico and I had stayed up late talking on the phone, finding ourselves in one of our playful-silly-sexy moods, the kind where we had each other laughing yet craving one another. We finally said goodnight close to 1AM and I fell asleep thinking about him.

I continued to think about him in my sleep. As morning neared, I was dreaming about him. We were on the roof of his pub (because, apparently, dream-Nico owns a pub) and soon enough we were having sex . . . and as I came in my dream, I actually came in real life.

That’s never, never happened to me before. I’d read that there was a female equivalent to a wet dream, but I’d never experienced it.

Sometimes I fear that I look like a walking cliche, the (slowly) approaching-forty woman who finds her sexuality awakened late in life. The woman who, finally freed from a bad marriage, drinks in her new-found sexual pleasure frenetically. Maybe I am a cliche; I don’t know. All I know for sure is that during all those long, lonely years of my marriage, the plotlines of every single one of my sex dreams somehow managed to get disrupted right before penetration. Even in my dreams I didn’t have a good sex life! But now I have a sexual partner with whom I have some amazing physical chemistry, and our sexual relationship is so incredible that he makes me orgasm when he’s two hours away and I’m fast asleep.

If that’s a cliche, I’m happy to be living it.