I can’t stop dreaming of a woman desperately begging me to fuck her.

  What's wrong with me?

  File name: Untold Stories

  Passcode: 8675309

  Journal

  I woke up needing to pee, but didn’t want to get up.

  I was relaxed and drowsy, barely coherent. I tried going back to sleep. Unsuccessfully.

  There was a good reason for that.

  My mind drifted to the erotica book, and everything it'd said about observing the sensations of the body. Well, I had sensations alright, and most of them were focused on my dream man and the hot tub scene we hadn’t had together.

  Okay, book, you wanted me to be cerebral and observe my desires, so here we go. There’s this guy I want, and I keep dreaming about him, so let me tell you how that feels:

  What're the sensations in my body right now? Desire and urinary urgency. Are the two sensations related? The bladder nerve is separate from the clitoral nerve, but they're connected at their roots in the sacral nerve plexus.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  All at once, I’m feeling bladder discomfort, but desire for my man. Why? Are pain and pleasure the same feeling? I don't understand the way my body works.

  Do I know anything at all?

  I chuckled. My degrees were so useless for my new life.

  Stars, I wanted my dream man touching me, and that’s all I really cared about. Toilet? Forgotten.

  I abandoned the exercise and gave in to the need. My favorite mango seed butter was the best lube, and it was good. I could almost feel him again, but whoops! There was that need to pee. Dammit.

  Was I seriously supposed to keep observing? I blinked, trying to remember the book, wanting only one thing: my man, and also knowing I needed to go to the fucking bathroom. Argh!

  This is a really stupid exercise from the dumbest erotica book ever! I thought, heading to the toilet down the hall.

  I got back to my room and flipped open the library book, reading through it again. Okay, I was supposed to observe my sensations and how my body reacted. Then write it all down. Simple exercise. Be a scientist and lonely woman all at the same time. No problem.

  Truth was, I wanted more than sex. The man from my dreams felt like so much more: Comfort. Belonging. Understanding.

  I knew I could feel good within myself now. I was better and could think about floating in the hot tub, relaxed and alone, and I’d turn calm and peaceful.

  Inside of me, I trusted myself now and loved who I was, so I could feel whatever I pretty much wanted.

  That was good.

  But it wasn’t everything.

  So the book was right. I could observe, and I could feel two things at once. Desire and discomfort.

  Fulfillment and longing.

  Two at once.

  I relaxed and forgot about everything for a while. I let myself think about my dream man and how much I wanted to feel him again. His presence, his touch, his love.

  And that was all it took.

  I was alive and on fire. Everything raged.

  Let yourself go, I thought, and release tore through me in waves.

  I felt an echo.

  Something far away, but present.

  I grew quiet, smiling. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but it had been something. A start.

  The book said to record my experiences, so I opened my journal.