You shiver. Light is streaming in through one of the nearby windows, and you can feel teeth nibbling at the lobe of your ear, warm breath ghosting across the side of your face. Nothing registers as strange to you, and you burrow into the warm blankets and the fluffy pillows, wanting to return to the already-fading dream of that sex shop at the intersection of two streets that shouldn’t exist. It’s only when you realize that you went to sleep alone that you sit up in shock.

“What’s wrong, babe?” says the guy who’s lying next to you in bed. He runs his hand over your chest, rubs his fingers into your firm pecs, your abs, things that you didn’t have before going to sleep but had apparently grown overnight, in addition to getting a boyfriend. You blink and shake your head, trying to clear it of the haze of confusion that had descended upon your thoughts. But the fog stays, making it difficult to think. The only thing that you can feel clearly through it is the insistent pulsing of your cock between your legs, straining at the metal bars of a chastity cage locked around it.

You look at your boyfriend, admire the cut of his jaw, trace your fingers across his face. “N-nothing,” you stammer, the pleasant haze in your head thickening, making it difficult to remember what you were concerned about it in the first place. A memory asserts itself. A daily ritual. You smile, lust washing over you, your hole twitching, your cock pulsing, your mouth going dry.

You slip under the covers, salivating as you graze your fingers across your boyfriend’s tight abs. When finally you set sights on his cock, a gasp slips past your lips before you can stop it. You moan out loud and watch the thick piece of meat jump before your eyes. You know, in the back of your mind, that in this new reality, you’ve played with this dick many times before, but you also know that in the old reality, you’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.

You lick your lips, salivating, as you open your mouth to swallow down the bulbous cockhead. You moan as pleasure lances through you, a sharp pain piercing your mind at the taste of the pre-cum. You swirl your tongue around the blunt end of his cock and you groan at the delicious, rapturous taste of his skin.

You wrap both hands around his shaft, jerking him up and down and up and down as you bob your head on the first couple of inches. It’s so big. You can’t help but drool a little. You feel that with every pump of his hips your brain is getting smaller, getting fucked into mush with his blunt instrument. But you don’t care. You can’t care. You’re in utter bliss.

It doesn’t matter that your potential is now going to go wasted. There is nowhere else you’d rather be than attached to his cock, now.

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