2017/03/01

Wakin’ up next to you

“Good morning.”

“Mmm. Mornin’.”

“Sleep well?”

“Guess so. You didn’t.”

“I didn’t?”

“No, you were tossing around a lot… ’bout two or three o’clock, maybe.”

“Sorry.”

“No, s’ok, didn’t keep me awake. You were having a dream, prob’ly.”

“Dream… Yeah, I did.”

“Oh… You’re smiling — one of your famous sandwich dreams?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Guessed that from the hard-on you kept pokin’ me with. Who this time?”

“Who what?”

“Oh c’mon. You know what I mean. Who was the bread in the sandwich?”

“Doesn’t really matter. Always the same dream, pretty much.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm… Olivia Wilde and Yvonne Strahovski.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Those two were the bread and you were the filling.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Darling, I love you, truly and forever, but you must realize that either one of those girls is out of your league.”

“Yeah.”

“Both of ’em at once? Out of your… I dunno, home planet.”

“I know, I know. But…”

“What?”

“But you’re out of my league. Way out. I should be worshiping you from afar, hopeless, sighing, pining for a glance. Envying the guys who get near you.”

“Well… This is true.”

“And yet here we are.”

“This is because I have great perspic— perspicaiety? — perspicularity? — I am extremely wise and sensitive, and have detected your hidden qualities.”

“You’re good at that.”

Very well hidden qualities, beneath that befuddled Clark Kent persona you present to the world.”

“So anyway if you’re out of my league and yet here you are warm and naked and snuggly in my arms, what dreams then can be deemed impossible?”

“Awwww. You’re sweet.”

“I’m conscious of my great fortune.”

“Of course you are. Smart man.”

“Smart enough to know that the only place I’ll ever get a double-header is in my dreams.”

“You got that right. Regrets?”

“Nope. You give me everything I need or want — more than I can handle, really.”

“But still the fantasy.”

“Sometimes. Harmless, though.”

“Yes. And fun, some of them. Y’know what?”

“What?”

“I have a peasant blouse somewhere. Puffy short sleeves and a square neckline.”

“Oh? Kinda lacy?”

“Yup. And I could shop for a red calico skirt. And those milkmaid pigtails would be no problem.”

“You’re thinking…”

“Agent Sarah Walker, undercover?”

“That sounds… how about that little waist-cinchy thing?”

“The corset too. And if you wore a white shirt and a tie…”

“Oooh.”

“Yeah. What I was thinkin’: oooh. Lights, camera, action.”

“Y’know, with you in pigtails, I would want —”

“I certainly hope so.”

“C’mere, you.”

“Mmmmm. ‘Perspicacity,’ that’s the word.”

“Dare you to say that now.”

“Pffpgkafffgfa.”

“Good girl. Don’t stop.”

— Frenulum