I am the collector of dreams. I slip inside while you’re asleep and take all I can. Ah, I see the total confusion on your startled face. I’m not there to cause harm. Rather simple really. It’s because I need them. I use them to fuel my own. Still don’t understand? Sigh. Alright, I’ll attempt to explain.
Dreams contain vital energy, energy upon which I thrive. You see, I don’t just dream as you do. No, I visit while I sleep. Curious? I’m not surprised. Whenever I’ve collected sufficient power from the lot of you, I slip away from my form and land wherever I choose. Why? To make that dreamer’s dreams come true in the most spectacular fashion. Trust me, it is like no pleasure you can imagine.
When you wake, sure you’ve dreamed but not able to remember, know that I stopped by and made you a donor. I’ve been there to absorb the vibrations your mind releases. I take all the sexual energy from your fantasies, all the adrenaline from your chases, all the attitude from your confrontations, all the sighs from your cute and fuzzy bunnies and convert them into raw voltage that, once I have enough, will catapult me from within and make it possible for me to skip through the mist, unobserved, until I reach my destination, you perhaps.
If you’re the lucky one, I will seal you into your dream while turning it into a reality. Oh how good it will be. Everything will be magnified. The softness of my skin, the scent of my desire, the sweetness you taste in my arousal, the shivers as I caress you, the feel of all I touch you with, the strength of your climax.
So the next time you find yourself stuck to the sheets, don’t curse for having a wet dream like a randy teenager. Lose yourself instead in the sensations I leave you with. Run them through your mind over and over again for I know the release you find will be almost as good as that which we found together. What’s that? You’re still not sure how you’ll know for certain that I visited? I understand. You need to experience it before you become a true believer. Okay, tell you what. Once you’re spent, check your chest. If you find a small, bite-shaped bruise over your heart that wasn’t there when you went to sleep, know I am responsible.
Ooh, there’s my next encounter now, off to bed. But no, don’t envy him. Your turn will come.