Over at the McMillan's home Richard was amazed in the transformation in Charles McMillan. Richard had often seen him around town acting aloof toward Susan, his wife of many years. Susan's own account of the relationship made Charles sound cold and distant.
The Charles who was currently spooning Richard in bed was anything but. He could feel the warmth from Charles' body through the purple nightie that Richard had donned for bed. The lights off, both Charles and his wife-for-the-week losing their battle with sleepiness, Mr. McMillan held Richard tightly, taking solace in the fact that his wife would stick by him through the hard times.
"No matter what," he mumbled in Richard's ear as he gave it one final kiss, "we'll make it through this together."
Richard gave his husband's hand a quick squeeze before he drifted off to sleep.
That night he dreamt of the evenings events. Charles coming home late, Charles losing his job, Charles talking about their future together, Charles and him growing close once again after all the years of distance. Only in the dream Richard wasn't Richard Madisson, but rather Susan McMillan. He had experienced this phenomenon before during the course of playing the game. Often times he would become so engrossed in his character that his subconscious would assume the role of the subject.
He dreamed of taking his husband by the hand and leading him to the bedroom. He dreamed of stripping off his outfit, piece by piece, revealing his sexy, alluring body to his husband. He dreamed of getting down on his knees and alternating between giving his husband a blowjob and rubbing his saliva lubricated penis between his large, milky-white breasts. He dreamed of Charles ejaculating all over his chest and face, looking up at him in the eyes and seeing nothing but love.
When Richard awoke briefly in the night it was still dark. The vividness of the dream had shocked him, but what shocked him more was the feeling of wetness he felt on the nightie he was wearing. He had, for the first time since his adolescence, had a wet dream. A smile formed on his face as he drifted back to sleep. He would have to clean that up in the morning.
Tonight, however, he would let the morning take care of itself.
