I keep having erotic dreams.

Last night I dreamt I worked for a football team, the British kind.

I think I was their phsycic, of all things.

I remember standing in the common room at the stadium, and someone came up to me and told me one of the players needed to see me.

I went to his room. He shared it with a couple of other players. There was very little personal in the room, only three tall, white-sheeted beds that I'm pretty sure were hospital beds. There was a chair by the door, crammed between the bed and the wall, but he directed me away from it.

"What do you need?" I asked. He was Chinese, perhaps, or perhaps Korean in decendance, but full Canadian born.

He looked uncomfortable and was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Will you stand by me?" he asked. "When I am sad, will you be there to comfort me? I need someone. I can't be alone anymore. I can't stand it."

"I--" I said, hesitant. I had never thought of him that way. "I don't know."

"Please," he said, coming closer. I could smell him. He smelled like sweet salty sweat, dusty hair, delicious skin. "Please, Rosie."

"I--" I said, before he kissed me, one hand behind my neck, one hand between my legs, and half lifted me on to the tall bed with the force of it.

I was swept away by the hunger of it, and although it never got much past there, we were laying in his bed and he was stroking the hair at my temple.

"Be mine," he begged. "Please."

~

Later, another played stopped me, grabbed my hand as I passed and pulled me into a nearby room.

He was shorter, with shaggy electric red hair.

There were few words. We fucked on a table, sweat slicked backs arching over cheap laminate.

"Be mine," he said when we were done. "Be only mine, Rosie."

I propped myself up on my elbow, sadness in my heart. How could I say no to one of these sweet, sad boys?

"I want to," I told him.

I tried to explain about the other man, but I could see his heart break through his chest.

And then I woke up.

.

Rosie.

Before&After