Waking Up

The next morning, you woke up with a start, your body still lingering in the haze of sleep. As you shifted in bed, you suddenly realized something was off—your sheets were damp, and there was a sticky sensation against your skin. It took a moment for the reality to sink in: you had a wet dream, something that hadn’t happened in ages. The evidence was all over your bed, and you couldn’t even remember what the dream was about, only that it had left you in this state.

Panic set in as you glanced at the clock. You were running late. With no time to dwell on the situation, you quickly stripped the bed, bundled up the soiled sheets, and shoved them into the laundry hamper. You rushed into the bathroom, trying to clean yourself up as fast as possible, the remnants of your dream still clinging to the edges of your mind.

After a quick rinse, you dashed back to your room, yanking open your underwear drawer and grabbing the first pair of boyshorts you could find. They were pastel pink, a color that immediately reminded you of what Mrs. Geoff had suggested the day before. You hesitated for just a second, then shrugged it off—you didn’t have the luxury of time to be picky.

You threw on the boyshorts and hastily dressed in your work clothes, skipping breakfast entirely. Your stomach rumbled in protest, but you were too frazzled to care. You grabbed your bag and bolted out the door, your mind still reeling from the unexpected start to your day.