Sleepy and disheveled, David rose abruptly on the bed. Before his eyes he still had remnants of a bizarre dream in which queues of men lined up in front of him, confessing to him that he was the object of their fantasies. He shuddered in disgust.
It's all the fault of that whole Greg thing, he decided, piercing the air with a hateful gaze. It was that asshole who told him so many idiotic things yesterday that he even dreamed them. Queues of men lining up for him? What stupidity!
If only these were innocent confessions. But the men in his dream were behaving.... well, as if they really wanted him. As if they didn't even want to fight temptation just....
He felt the chills again. What's too much is unhealthy. Admittedly, it was only a dream, but still these guys could have behaved a little more decently.
