I was lost in a sexy dream when something shook me.

Was it a breeze blowing my hammock to and fro? Salt-tinged from the ocean with a whiff of tropical flowers in the mix? No. It was my roommate, actually shaking my bed.

“Your alarm clock is going off!”

Resignedly, I hit the “off” button and pulled up the covers. “Was it bothering you?” I asked, sitting up and trying to orient myself. The clock radio had been playing music loudly right next to me. I’d managed to blend the song into the soundtrack of my sleep.

He shook his head. “No, but I thought you might want to wake up and, you know, make it to class.”

I looked at the time. Fuck. I had managed to sleep through the first alarm, the second alarm, the snooze. The blasting rock was the final attempt. There was no way I’d make it to class on time, and my professor had a policy of not admitting latecomers. I told this to Tim.

“I’ll snag the notes from one of my classmates,” I muttered sleepily.

Tim didn’t move. I was snuggling my body pillow, getting ready to dive back into my dreams of a beachside paradise. I’d never gone to Hawaii or Jamaica or any perfect white-sand beach. But I wanted to.

“So you’re going to sleep all day?”

I looked at him. “The professor doesn’t allow latecomers,” I said again.

“I do,” he said.

“You do what?”

“Allow latecomers.” He hit the second half of the word: “comers.”

We had never officially hooked up. That didn’t seem appropriate for roommates. But we had been fairly frisky with one another from time to time. He’d let me see him walk naked to the shower one morning, and I’d practically tripped on my tongue at the sight of his hard pecs and sculptured ass. I’d returned the favor by sunning in the nude on the fire escape, knowing full well that he could see me in my altogether from his bedroom window.

So there was that, and there was this: Tim taking off his shirt, and then staring at me again. I cocked a brow at him, then pushed the covers off the bed and undid the row of tiny buttons on my pajama top. That was all I had on. If this was a game of strip poker, I was going to lose quickly.

Lose is, of course, a relative term. I was naked and waiting while Tim had to untie his sneakers and step out of them, then pull down his shorts and briefs. When we were both in the buff, he said, “What were you dreaming about?”

“Island paradise.”

“Describe paradise,” he said, joining me on the bed and pulling the pillow away from my body. Then he started to kiss me while I tried to talk. It was difficult finding the words to match the scenarios I’d seen in my mind. The hammock, the breeze, the sky a painting of pure light and rainbow hues. I shut my eyes as Tim kissed my neck, then my belly, moving to my pussy before licking his way along my inner thighs to my toes. He kissed each one and then moved up again, and by the time I was telling him about the sway of the hammock, his dick was inside me and we were moving together.

I knew there would be hell to pay later. I’d have to study extra hard to make up for missing the class. But it was worth it. When he made me climax, I shook all over, feeling the pleasure building as if from a great ball of heat within me. He came right after I did, and I squeezed him extra tight with my inner muscles, trying to pass on the type of pleasure he’d given me.

Latecomer. Early comer. From now on, whenever I come, I hope it will be with Tim.

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