He wasn't even sure if he was really dreaming. It was a half-asleep—half-awake status that was new to him. It brought a certain comfort so he desire... not to rise. He would skip his rations of French Toast that morning. It was just better to lie in comfort. He wondered if any more dreams would come to him.These dreams—about events that he hadn't thought about in so many years; why did they all come to him that morning? It had been a long time since his body felt as good as it did. It was free. I want you here, sitting in the middle seat while I lean against the window, and you slide your hand under my blanket to my hips, then across my tummy to my inner thigh, moving between them and over to where the heat radiates between them pressing through my clothes and massaging my little puffy mound … rubbing it, pinching it, slowly feeling it get hotter and hotter in your hands … feeling the juices from my pussy soak through my pants, since you know I don’t wear panties …I have my face. More

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