To Sleep, Perchance to Come

A scorcher of a wake-up call.

The following will be nothing akin to Hamlet, so if you’re hankering for a bit of the Bard, perhaps you should set this aside for another time.

But — if reading about sex sets your soul on fire, then by all means…

The other morning, I awoke in the midst of one hell of an orgasm. At least, I think I was awake, as it may have been that fuzzy divide between the end of a dream state and the beginning of full wakefulness.

I recall having a steamer of a dream starring moi, a woman and the actor, Andy Garcia. I wasn’t getting down with them at the same time, mind you. Even in my dreams, three-ways don’t do it for me.

As hot as it was, my dream was also very strange. The woman was more of a wraith. An insatiable wraith. And ladies, even though I love you, I don’t love you in that way. But I certainly did that morning.

I remember that she, or “it,” was all over me — snatching, grabbing, sucking and biting my nipples. Holy hell! What a ride!

Whatever Andy was doing, he was working it, too. Dreams are odd ducks, indeed. Although I’ve always enjoyed watching Andy Garcia in movies, the thought of hitting the sheets with him never occurred to me. So, the fact that he was getting me off at 8:00 in the morning as my husband lay beside me was bizarre, indeed.

A word about my husband: As a chronic insomniac, he sleeps fitfully, so I was incredibly thankful that, as my body was humming and thrumming, he was passed out.

When I realized what was happening, I scooted over to the edge of the bed so as not to be touching him. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of what I was experiencing.

“This is my fucking orgasm and nothing is going to stop me from coming.”

I couldn’t bear my butt cheeks touching his as I was getting busy with Andy Garcia and a crazy woman.

An aside: I never liked the word “cum.” There’s an ick factor to it that turns me off. Like something redolent of stink and rot. How’s that for sexy? So, I don’t “cum.” I “come.”

“Come” is a bit more refined, you know? Not that I’m into refined, genteel sex. Uh uh. “Just give it to me baby and don’t hold back.”

So — as Andy and the woman were doing their separate things, a hand crept between my legs. My hand. Like a spider seeking out its nest. I had to. It was my inalienable right as a sexual being to finish myself off.

I peeked over my shoulder at my husband. Still out like a light, thankfully, but his gentle snoring was blowing my mood. I had to hustle. And I did.

This isn’t the first time I’ve orgasmed during a dream, or because of one. Many times, I’ve had to leave my marital bed to skulk into another part of the house for a one-on-one.

I realize I’m not unique here. I can’t speak for the guys, but women come in their sleep all the freakin’ time. How do I know? Because there’s a science behind this! And, science is never wrong!

According to Madeleine Castellanos, a New York City psychiatrist and sex therapist, “Most people, when they wake up, will remember having an erotic dream,” she said. Yet while men will have physical evidence of an orgasm (better known as “wet dreams”), women will have only the memory.

Castellanos goes on to say that “Despite our bodies being in a ‘paralyzed’ state during rapid eye movement (or REM) sleep — when sleep orgasms are most likely to occur — the brain is technically still on and can feel an orgasm.”

And how’s this for good news? If you’d like a little night time giddy-up without a partner to fuck things up, there are things you can do to encourage solo nocturnal fun.

First, it helps if you’ve been having regular orgasms followed by a sudden drought. Check. That’s me. Except my drought is mega. Huge. Like the Grand Canyon huge.

Sleep position counts, too. You’re more likely to wake up squealing like a prepubescent girl humping her pillow if you lie on your stomach. Hey — it never hurts to have something pressing there, right? Even though sleep orgasms are more about the mind, then the genitals. Or so, “they” say.

It also helps to be genuinely tired. This is a no-brainer. If you’re not sleepy, you won’t sleep. Meaning, no orphic sexy time for you.

One more thing and this is a biggie: Understand the difference between dreams and reality. Once you’re aware that you’re in the midst of a dream, you will be able to interact with it, making you more connected to the experience. Scientists call this “lucid dreaming.” How cool is this?

Whatever it’s called, I’m in. In fact, I can hardly wait to slip between the sheets?

Who’s with me?

Sherry McGuinn is a longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

If you’re interested, there’s more where this came from. And, thanks for reading.