Dream Journal
A man had a lot of female models whom he kept in dressing room type stalls. They were each drop-dead gorgeous and adored him. He stepped into a stall on his left and hugged a buxom blond. He rubbed his hands all over her and she squealed with delight.
I crawled out the dressing room window and into a classroom. I found a seat in the third row and sat as the last bell rang. The teacher, Ms. Browning, handed out our corrected tests.
I got a lower score on the English part of the test than I did on the math part and commented that as long as I did better than the girl next to me then I did great.
Briar sat two seats away and said that I was her gauge: as long as she did better than me, she was happy. I told her that I was better at numbers and she was better at words.
I was naked from the waist up. My breasts were large and rested on the desk in front of me. Ms. Browning bent over my desk so that her nose was inches from my test. I put my hands over my nipples. She asked if I was ashamed of my breasts, and I told her that I didn’t want her to have o stare at them that close. She stood and I crossed my arms over my chest.