It's Not That Funny
I have this dream where Penelope Cruz is coming towards me totally naked, her arms outstretched, her pink tongue slowly circling dark, full lips.
I say, "No, no. I'm married," and she tells me how she doesn't care. She must have me now.
I grab her by her soft, sensual shoulders and explain that I'm a one-woman man. She breaks down sobbing, and I take her into my arms feeling the warmth of her breasts. I hold her as her tears dry, slipping my hand downward to pat her rear--I am only human, after all. She smiles bravely to show she'll be all right, and I peck her on the forehead in my best fatherly manner.
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, realizing I have an erection that would make a sixteen-year-old boy proud. Vickie is sleeping soundly on her side, her naked butt facing me. I pat it gently.
"Do you know your ass feels remarkably like Penelope Cruz's rear end?"
I roll towards her and poke her.
"You have that dream again?" she asks.
"Uh-huh," I say as I snuggle as close as is possible.
"The one where you imagine you have the erection of a teenager?"
"No! The one where--"
I hear Vickie snoring peacefully, and although I can't see her face I know she's smiling.
Wayne Scheer retired from teaching writing and literature in college to follow his own advice and write. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Best of the Net. His work has appeared in The Christian Science Monitor, Notre Dame Magazine, The Pedestal, flashquake, Flash Me Magazine, The Internet Review of Books and Eclectica, among others.