Is this some strange aftermath of my dream? No ... it was that which preceded the dream. Memories came flooding back in an a grossly unwelcome torrent... Something that’s been happening to me far too often, these days.Her hope, as she drifted into a tortured sleep, had been that the morning would find her repulsed and freshly steeled against her latest degradation. Alas for vain hope! For based on the absurdly relentless focus of my dream, my body clearly has very different ideas about what it. Olive started to wish she’d never come. Reality was too real. Too many people and too good an atmosphere. Was it even the right house? Then she saw him. It’d been so long, her stomach clenched in the desperate way it always did. She’d never felt so helpless for anyone before him. He looked relaxed. Happy. It wasn’t what she’d expected. He always sold his reality as a chore, as something he was dying to escape but it didn’t equate with what she was seeing.Perhaps it was easier not to know, not. .until he met my mother with no obvious plans of marriage. They lived together...at first as friends. Then one night she came home drunk from a party. He was up late one night finishing up laundry. Then i was soon born. Well anyway...eventually they discovered they were very happy and got married. As the story continues...i am a man. Well Hanaha was changing her clothing for cheer leading practice and man sometimes for kicks and grin i look in on Hanaha remembering the special. "fuck yourself again" you order.Slowly i insert the bottle inside me again."push it right in fuckpig, i want to see it deep inside your fuckpigpussy, i want to see the whole bottle up there"I push it in, deeper and deeper, but as i get to the wider part of thebottle it is painful, i can't push it in any futher. I try but the painoverwhelms me. You the kneel between my legs, take the bottle and pushit inside me."you can take this, calm yourself and let it slide in, just relax"you push it in.