Three o’clock in the morning. I lie awake, wondering why I do so. Usually I wake up at this point needing to go to the toilet. But I don’t need it now. So why have I awoken?

Throb.

That’ll be why. I didn’t realise I was hard until just now. Why am I hard? Did I have a dream, or is this just something that happens?

Throb.

Wow. I’m really hard. I haven’t been this turned on for aeons. It feels like I’m more erection than human right now. Maybe I should… do something about this. Where? Right here in the bed? No, I can’t; they’re sleeping. It’s too cold to get up. Maybe I have a dressing gown or a

Five-thirty. What happened? Did I fall asleep? What happened to the horny ILB with the massive erection? I was going to use that. Or at the very least remember it.

I’m fairly certain at this point that I did have a dream. I’m not sure who about or what happened. Whatever it was, its effects were fairly transient. I’d prefer something lasting, but I don’t really think that’s something I can control.

Ay me. Maybe next time I’ll be able to remember. Probably better than having an orgasm in my sle

Six-thirty. I hate my alarm. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Where’s my ‘phone? There it is. Grab, scrabble with the screen. Flick it off. Lie back down, pull the duvet back over me and…

Throb.

Oh, there you are. Where did you go? I missed you an hour or so ago.

Six-forty-five. Not hard any more.
Seven o’clock. Throb. Hard again.
Seven-fifteen. Not hard any more.
Seven-thirty. Time to join the human race. Scramble out of bed, scream at the pain in my left shoulder. Quieten the shrieks in my head. It’s better to pretend right now.

Throb.

Fucking ridiculous.