A dream is sliding away, one I can't remember, but I must have been enjoying it because my panties are soaked. My nipples are hard to the point of pain, straining against my tank top in the breeze from the ceiling fan. My breathing is heavy, and loud in the dark, and it turns me on even more. I’m tangled in the sheets, a pillow between my knees, as always. I tighten my thighs and begin to rock against them. I'm even wetter than I thought. My cotton briefs slide against me, making a mess of the sheets, but the warmth of my own arousal is all-consuming. Everything else ceases to exist. The pillow is too soft, it doesn't provide enough pressure, but I can be patient. For now.