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clawed fingers pinched and pulled her nipples.
    The entire bed shook violently. The tentacles rammed into her, fast and hard. She could do nothing save for shudder in dread as those thick, serpentine appendages began to throb and pulse.
    Suddenly, simultaneously, both tentacles erupted, spewing great quantities of thick, milky fluid like fire hoses. She shook, helpless, as warm wetness gushed into her, poured down her throat…
    …and she jerked awake, with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat, to the sound of Anthony’s quiet breathing beside her.
    The third time the dream visited her, on the eve of their wedding, she lay in bed trembling, unable to fall asleep again. Tightness gripped her chest; she felt a quivering in her belly, and a sense of strange, indefinable longing filled. The dream had been so vivid, she could almost feel the hands on her body, taste the warm and slightly salty fluid in her mouth…
    She ran her palms flat over her breasts, and discovered with surprise that her nipples were hard. The longing increased. She moved one hand down between her legs, and her fingers found wetness. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her heartbeat quickened. Carefully, slowly, afraid to wake her fiancé, she parted her legs and slipped her fingers between the folds of her labia. She masturbated quickly, her head still filled with visions of penetrating tentacles, and sighed softly as she came.
    Instantly, humiliation and revulsion filled her. She turned away from Anthony, ashamed. When she drifted into a restless sleep, the dream did not return.
    The morning of the wedding, a watery sun dawned in a threatening sky. Eileen’s mother fretted about the weather, concerned that rain would ruin the day. Eileen herself remained quiet, reserved. The memory of the night before, her perverse dream and what she’d done afterward, lingered. She feared the dream meant she was some kind of sexual deviant, and worried what might happen if Anthony somehow found out. Had he awakened when she touched herself? Was he, even now, having second thoughts about marrying her, unwilling to be with a woman who would do something so filthy? He had already left, gone to the church early with his friends; her mother bustled about, adjusting her dress and fretting about the weather, and Eileen found herself detached, scarcely even paying attention as her mother turned her this way and that in front of the mirror.
    “Did you see that man of yours this morning? He looks so handsome in a tuxedo! No, of course you didn’t. It’s bad luck for a bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. It’s tradition, you know. That’s what’s wrong with these younger people today. No respect for tradition. I do hope it doesn’t rain. Rain would ruin everything. We don’t want to get your dress wet! I hope the limousine shows up on time. I sent your father to call the limo driver. They should be here early. It’s just not right, making a woman wait on her wedding day. Turn this way a little. Eileen? Are you listening to your mother?”
    “What?” She blinked and shook herself. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about other things.”
    Her mother’s face creased into a smile. “Oh, that’s all right. This is a big day for you! Your father and I are so proud of you. I’m sorry to be carrying on like this.”
    Eileen smiled back. “It’s okay, Mom. Everything will be fine.” Somewhere deep inside her, a nagging feeling told her there was something she was forgetting. Something important. Something about the honeymoon, perhaps? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
    Her father came in to announce that the limousine had arrived. The nagging voice in the back of her mind disappeared, and she swept up the train of the dress and hurried out the front door.
    Her mother’s fears proved unfounded. By the time they arrived at the church, the midmorning sun had burned away the forbidding clouds to stream down in all its glory.
    The ceremony went