Day 6 - Emily's Daydream

It wasn't only until I woke up that I remembered. I was the one who set that dream up and made it all happen. I sat on the edge of my bed, noticing the wetness in my pants. I got that cleaned up before heading to class.

The first thing I did was look for Emily. When I caught her eye in a corridor, she seemed stunned for a second. Then it turned to this solemn expression. She looked unsure, maybe even scared, and looked away. All this happened in the space of about three seconds. I was careful not to betray anything, feigning curiosity and a friendly "what's up? why are you looking at me like that?" look.

Then Mark, her boyfriend, emerged out of a corner to join her. She smiled at him, linked her arm into his and forgot all about our little exchange. I wondered what was going through her mind, with her knowing that she had willingly fucked me in our dream, with Mark on the other side of the room, oblivious to everything. Now they're back together again. She squeezed Mark's arm closer to herself, inadvertently into the side of her breasts. That must feel nice. I speak from experience.

Mark was a couple of years older than us, so we didn't share the same classes. Later in the day Emily and I found ourselves in an exhaustingly boring class by Mr. Greenman. She hadn't given so much as a glance at me after that long look earlier, and sat at the front, chin propped up by her palm, doodling something. The valedictorian she was, she would usually be engaged and ask a load of questions, but in this class, I couldn't blame her.

Mr. Greenman was 29 years old and a former cop. He must have kept up his training to retain that unreal sculpted physique. The girls were talking about him in the first few weeks of his classes, but not even that could save him from the drudgery of having to teach Civics II. Ellie, at the back, was already asleep, as expected, and it was not much different for everybody else. Mr. Greenman was usually strict on conduct and everything else, but I think even he knew this was mind-numbing, so he was letting this slide.

That's when I thought - dreams are technically an **** wandering of the mind, more or less. We do the same in daytime, but our left-brain, the reasoning side, keeps everything in check by regulating our thoughts with what is real, rational, reasonable. But it's more or less the same, isn't it?

I want to try something.

-- Emily's POV --

I tried my best to pay attention, I really did. But learning about the civil duties of every citizen, bla bla just wasn't doing it. My thoughts ran to Mark and our plans dinner together, after school. "Wherever you want to go," he said. I wish he'd make the decisions sometimes, though. But he's really sweet. I held the paper rose he'd given me just before class and rolled it in my fingers.

But I felt a knot in my stomach when I thought about yesterday night's dream. I had betrayed him. But that was only a dream, right? Still, I had no idea how I could dream of something like that. John? Of all people. I mean, we've barely talked much in years. Mostly it was just small talk and the coincidental meetup. Honestly, we were really good friends. I just didn't know how to feel about it when he confessed a few years ago. I didn't want to date him, but I didn't want for us to drift apart either, but that was mostly my fault, I'll admit. I kind of wish we could be closer together again.

"Ms. Emily Robinson," Mr. Greenman said.

I looked up to see everyone handing in some sort of paper. Shit. Was there an assignment I'd missed?

"Do you have your Civics report with you?"

"What? I mean, no. Civics report? I must have overlooked it. I'm sorry."

Mr. Greenman looked unamused. "Stand up," he said, firmly. Half of me wanted to tell him it was one assignment, dipshit, you don't have to make it such a big deal. But I stood.

"You were supposed to be the model student of our class," he said. "Come here," he said.

"It was one assignment," I said, as I trailed to the front of the room. Then I saw in his right hand was a wooden ruler.

"Strip," he commanded.

I gasped. I was back in my chair.

Mr. Greenman was still droning on.

Everyone was still half asleep. No assignments to be handed in.

God, what am I even dreaming of these days. I swear.

I'm here now. Okay. Am I feeling aroused? I could feel my nipples stiffening in my bra. Mr. Greenman, the power and authority he had. The cold certainty in his voice. Ugh, what am I even thinking?

I tried to forget about it and continue doodling the rose in my notebook. Anything to prevent me from falling asleep. God, how can a class be this boring? Mr. Greenman shouldn't even be here. He should go back into law enforcement for all I know. He shouldn't be here.

Soon the bell rang. Thank God. I got a text from Mark that made me giddy, "meet you at the gates." I packed up, and was about to head for the door when I heard Mr. Greenman's cold voice again say, "Emily."

My heart fluttered and sparks shot up through my insides. My arms were weak. "Would you mind meeting me in my office? I've something to discuss."

Something to... discuss? I felt my mouth water. No, Emily. Think, Emily, think. That was just a dream. But my mind filled with all the imagery of myself meeting Mr. Greenman inside his office, blinds drawn, doors locked, the things that could happen inside...

"If you're in a rush, that's fine - " Mr. Greenman said.

"No - y - yeah. I've got the time," I said, and smiled.