I had a dream about you. We were in a theater with red velvet seats. We were down in the very front where all the chairs are level and you can't see past the head of the person in front of you. Except there was no one immediately in front of me. There was someone adjacent, and I think it might've been him.

You looked nervously at me. You were sweating desperation. I wanted away. I was so uncomfortable; I could feel that. You asked if you could move closer. I said no. You looked briefly at the screen and stroked your hard cock through your jeans. I looked away, shocked and repulsed.

How odd it is, to have a dream in which I do not seek you, but in which you seek me and I run.

Mentally and emotionally, I run.