“I was seated in front of a desk, playing with the keys on one of the lab keyboards, trying to create something, anything, for the next part of my symphony. My music notebook lay flat on the side ready to absorb all of my best ideas, but, still, nothing was coming to me. Many times, I’d stop playing and end up tapping the end of my pencil on my manuscript paper, racking my brains, my mind blank like the staves.

Earlier, I had come up with a great theme for my symphony, a melody that I’d played that sounded good and had wanted to repeat over and over in my piece. Yet, once I heard the tune again in my head, somehow, the very last note didn’t sound right to me.

I played the theme countless times, but, for some reason, I kept harping and insisting on another note. I had to play the whole damn A scale up on the piano but got stuck on the penultimate note. I played it again and again but didn’t finish. I sat here, straining hard in my chair, my eyes and eyebrows raised, trying to find it.
“It’s that last note,” I said aloud, angrily.

It was driving me crazy! At that moment, I wondered if Connor was having any composer problems like me with his project. Then again, he was the compositional genius in Barnard that I doubted he’d have any trouble writing an entire symphony. He was probably already done, smiling smugly at me with his good-looking face in my head.

Slowly, I began to picture my cute boyfriend, shirtless or maybe in his underwear. Or maybe naked and sprawled all over the piano in front of me, smiling, just like during that magical sleepover when we’d made love on his bed in his messy room. I was getting aroused and lusted over him, not even bothering to finish my project.

The other night, I had an erotic dream about Connor. He was standing naked in my shower, staring at me, while smoking a cigarette. My boyfriend had a longing, sensuous stare on his face, the water dancing all over his beautiful, bare body. Every trickle rode his alluring curves as they accentuated his divine nudity, my eyes following as they circled around his cute belly button then went down to his nether region.

There was a small window facing out from inside my shower that let in the daylight that shone on my attractive boyfriend. The bright light illuminated Connor’s boyish face, and I could almost touch his soft-looking skin that was wet from the shower.

“Fuck me, David,” he said in his sexy, breathy voice. “Please.”

It was that same seductive voice that always excited me, and it all soon became the biggest homoerotic dream of my entire life. I’d had plenty of other steamy dreams when I was a teen, but this was definitely the hottest one yet. I remembered the next morning when I’d woken up, the inside of my pajama bottoms had been moist, and I’d felt hot and sweaty, as though I’d actually taken a refreshing schpritz with that fuckable guy.

Then, all of a sudden, I began to feel warm and really turned on. I looked down and saw a small bulge from the crotch of my shorts that only seemed to grow bigger. Connor was giving me such a hard-on that I was so glad I was alone in the student lab!

Oh, shit, I wailed inside of my head. I’m soooo horny.

I needed Connor; I needed him right now so badly that it hurt. He’d really wanted me to fuck him in my dream and now, I wanted to fuck him. And I wanted it to feel exactly like that very special night when I’d lost my virginity to him. My boyfriend was like a catchy tune that got stuck in my head, no matter what I did to try to get him out.

But he was more like that elusive song you fell in love with and searched everywhere to find out what it was and who sang it. That infectious melody that you just begged to hear one more time and would do anything to own forever. He was like that. Connor was so addictive, and I just had to see him again and again. It was like tapping “Repeat” on that song from your playlist for the hundredth time, only you never get tired of it…”