For the first time in awhile I had a lucid dream!

It was a funny dream!

“A Detective in the Major Crimes unit whom is often compared to the tv detective Columbo bumbled through another case” The Chief of Detectives scowled at me as he looked up from reading from the latest newspaper article “Her brash, maddening tactics are tiresome quotes a coworker. she is psychotic, a loose cannon and can’t be trusted to tie her own shoe lace?! Says another.” The chief’s voice rose with growing ire. “She is one french fry short of a happy meal and yet solved a case with a keen sense of observation rare in modern day investigation.”

The chief crumpled up the newspaper and threw it. “Are you laughing?! This is a joke to you?!” He shouted. “We are the laughing stock out of the whole precinct!”

He glanced at the other man in the room “and you were supposed to keep an eye on her!” He barked.

The man shrugged “can’t rein in chaos!”

Ah it was a good dream.

I had this kind of energy



People had no chance! 😂😂

I made Columbo look good!

On the bright side I was brilliant! Mind like Sherlock!

As for the man who was supposed to be my Watson? The man had a voice like Corpse Husband (a TikToker)


The lucid dream came in when I was on the back of his motorcycle. I am deathly afraid to ride one. I had my arms tightly wound around him. I suppose I was tired and had fallen asleep. My grip loosened to the point one hand drifted down. I was dreaming of him and I.

He was trying to maintain his focus on the road and ignore me. Ignore my hand that was on his junk. “Are you kidding me right now?” He exploded “wake up!”

I was Rubbing my face against his back, nestling closer.

We lurched to a stop!

I opened my eyes to find my hand was in his pants stroking his cock. He was so hot. Hard. Throbbing.

I was so mortified.

he reached for my hand untucked it from his pants.“You want to play these games save it for the bedroom!” He gritted out “I have no intentions on becoming road kill because you have no impulse control or you have some kind of kink!”

And then my cat woke me up!

♥writing was all I had, all I’ve ever had, the only currency, the only proof that I was alive. Memory.♥ each of us has a story to tell. Leave your thoughts. Leave your comments.

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