Where is Bob? and dreams

May I never experience the managerial idiocy that the poor souls at Where is Bob? have to face daily.  At once hilarious and depressingly sad, I’ve become instantly addicted to this blog that details the misadventures of working in a university IT group under a completely incompetent manager.

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In other news, I had a most unexpected dream last night.  I was in some kind of shadowy replica of a dorm room, chatting with a shifting number of girls.  At one point, there is only one other girl, also Chinese, sitting on the bed.  I can’t stop staring at her eyes, and suddenly we’re making out, lips pressed and drawing air like we depend on each other’s breath to live.  My ears and face feel hot where her fingers press into my skin – and somehow I know that my physical, dreaming body is reacting to the imagery.  And then her hand dips down between intertwined legs and against my groin.  I mimic her movements, and feel my fingers sinking into soft, wet flesh.  I push further, feel her muscles tightening around the two fingers now buried inside her.  The contact is overwhelming.

I wish I could remember more of what happened afterwards, but the image fades from there.  I may have been on the cusp of waking at that point.

It must be all this teasing to SR of how I’m going to get a girl with a strapon when he’s not around.