The dream again
I wake up in a cold sweat, it was the dream again, its cold, I'm in a Coldstone Creamery after hours, the light is a pale blue much like a cotton candy flavored scoop of the frosty desert. like every time I don't remember how I got here. I look down, like every time, I'm naked, my feet on the cold tile, the tables and chairs and put away in the corners of the dimly lit store. I feel an engine in my chest, its rolling over, starting to churn, much like the slow churned ice-cream at this establishment. I revel in the feeling as I am drawn to the chilled marble tops the employees craft the sweet treats upon. My vison darkens, to me the door and the street outside doesn't exist, I am solely focused on the marble top, I slowly start walking towards it, the sound of my bare feet slapping against the cool tile ringing in my head synchronized with the beat of heart and it speeds. I come to a jog before coming to a sudden stop at the counter. The white countertop intermixed with black streaks much like a fudge vanilla tub of the cold craving. I mount the countertop hunched over like a beast in the moonlight. My body is involuntarily moving as I thrust my hips slapping my balls against the frigid chilled marble surface. I feel so alive, the cracks and crevices of my heart filled with the frosty cicles of dairies past. The pain of the impact and the freezing temperatures is not enough to dissuade me, as I continue while hollering in pain and pleasure. I am but a treat boy, lost in my carnal desire, the marble my cage and my heaven. I scoop, I top, I devour.