More evidence

My Wife kept resting a hand provocatively on my thigh or arm, or trying to massage my shoulders. I kept pushing Her advances away. I didn’t care how many sweet nothings, or indeed sweet somethings She whispered in my ear, I didn’t want to fuck Her. I broke the news that I have

given up on sex, and indeed have all but given up masturbating, and I expect to be utterly celibate for the rest of my life. This was met with cooing suplications, but my resolve was set firm.

I got up from the sofa to sort the plumbing in our holiday apartment. All the sinks and baths were backing up. Thankfully not in a way that filled the corridors with sewerage, but the floor was at least an inch deep with water. As I mopped the floor, completely naked (well it was a dream, so why would I be wearing clothes) She walked up behind me wearing nothing bright yellow washing-up gloves. Without warning, She reached between my arse cheeks and started washing my crack and massaging my hole. I asked what She was doing, but this was just met by Her other yellow, rubber-gloved hand reaching round and firmly grasping my balls, preventing me from pulling away. As She pushed a finger into my anus, I woke up, as stiff as a Grecian statue.

The thing I found most interesting about this dream was not that I was rejecting Her advances, nor that She was wearing rubber gloves and finger-banging my hole, but rather that I knew the gloves were yellow. Further evidence that I dream in colour, and I definitely dream of sex in colour.

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