18 Guy’s hips thrust into soft, warm wetness. He grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets as a delicious tension coiled in his stomach. His fists clenched. His teeth gritted. The tension unfurled. Guy thrust once more, his toes pressed into the baseboard, his fists moved to grip the headboard for leverage. His entire body, mind, and soul opened along with his release. He saw notes dance before his eyelids, strung up on a gold string. Melodies drummed in his ears as ribbons of thread swirled around his head. When he opened his eyes, he came face to face with... his pillow. Guy jerked back. Beneath him was a wet spot on his sheets. Instead of feeling embarrassed about his wet dream, Guy burst into hysterical laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even had a wet dream. Nor the last tim

