Jen

I have recurring dreams of having sex with my fantasy girl, Jennifer Lawrence. I know what you’re going to say, just like a thousand other guys. Maybe so, but this is my fantasy. I don’t give a shit about the others.

Having J-Law naked in my bed, as great as that sounds, did have its drawbacks. It started out that every time I was about to slip her the old stiffy, I would wake up. I felt dejected and unfulfilled.

Then things changed. On several of my steamy encounters with “Jen”, she finally consented and allowed me access to her love nest, only to have me wake up swimming in a wet spot. But washing the sheets was a small price to pay for my most pleasurable dream.

As my nighttime love life continued, things changed again. The wet dreams stopped. My time spent with Jen always left her with a smile on her face, and begging for more. As for me, well, I can’t complain. I got to make love to her every night and still wake up with enough morning wood to be envious of. Reliving my dreams in the shower with a bar of Zest and my hand was a fantastic way to start my day.

My dreams of being with Jen blurred reality. In my feeble little distorted mind, I would often wake up convinced that I had actually been with her.