Martin woke from a dangerously good dream.
He stared at the ceiling, and for a moment, he felt the urge to get up and slip out of bed for his usual morning routine. Then he remembered he was on a paid vacation and could lounge around for as long as he wanted, at least until the afternoon. It felt great, way too great, and Martin couldn't help closing his eyes and rolling onto his side.
Still, he couldn't fall back asleep. He had only gotten six hours, but he felt amazing, and the dream had left him energized right off the bat. What kind of dream had it been?
Of course, it had been a collage of his sexual experiences, all stirred up by the peppy girl from his party.
Morning wood had never been a problem, but today, all Martin could tell himself was, "Good moaning, I guess." Instead of good morning.
