u/Maaareeto

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I’m 19F, my boyfriend is 24M, and our relationship has gradually become considerably less conventional than anything I imagined for myself.

For the past ten months, I’ve also been developing what I can only describe as a parallel world of lust inside my dreams. It started with simple lucid dreaming—an empty void where I could move around freely—but as my control improved, the world became more detailed. Rooms appeared, familiar houses returned, and eventually, people began appearing too.

Then my fantasies started becoming frighteningly realistic.

Around the same time, I began spending weekends in my uni friend’s hometown. There was a guy there who was funny, charming, and relentlessly flirtatious. One night, he slept on a couch opposite the foldout bed where I was staying. By the following morning, after an entire night of tension between us, I let him use my mouth.

I thought that would be the end of it.

It wasn’t even remotely the end of it.

What started as one reckless morning gradually became a weekend habit. During the week, I would behave like a perfectly ordinary girlfriend. Then Friday would arrive and suddenly I was checking my appearance five times, pretending to casually ask whether he would be there, and feeling ridiculous excitement when the answer was yes.

My boyfriend eventually became aware of what was happening—and, unexpectedly, the knowledge became part of our dynamic rather than the end of our relationship. The jealousy, humiliation, excitement and voyeuristic element somehow became entangled together. It was strange, complicated, and increasingly addictive for all involved.

Meanwhile, my dreams became even more shameless than my weekends.

I could recreate bedrooms, familiar houses and places I had visited years ago. The sensory details became increasingly convincing—the sounds, touch, body heat, sweat and exhaustion after sex. I began dreaming about people from my waking life and constructing fantasies that would have been completely impossible to admit aloud.

Some dreams became particularly bizarre. In one, I was having sex while my boyfriend watched silently through a window. I repeatedly looked directly at him, but he remained completely motionless and expressionless throughout the entire scene. Apparently, my subconscious can create an elaborate sexual universe but still struggles with NPC behaviour.

The dreams became so vivid that I stopped watching porn altogether. It felt strangely unnecessary. Why watch someone else’s fantasy when my own subconscious could construct an entire world specifically around mine?

Now my life has settled into an absurd rhythm: weekends of temptation, weekdays of memories, and nights filled with dreams that somehow manage to be even more perverted than reality.

Every Sunday, I tell myself I should calm down.

Every Friday, I start wondering what will happen next.

My friends think I’m obsessed. My boyfriend knows exactly how complicated the situation has become.

And somewhere along the way, I had to accept the most embarrassingly accurate diagnosis of all:

I have been completely, comprehensively, and perhaps irreversibly dickmatized.

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I’m 19F, and almost every weekend I go to my uni friend’s hometown. My boyfriend stays home, and one of her friends, 24M, is usually there too.

He’s annoyingly charming. Like, the kind of guy who remembers some stupid little thing you said two weeks ago and brings it up just to make you smile. We started flirting as a joke—or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. 😂

The first time we crossed the line, I spent the entire journey home feeling guilty and promised myself it would never happen again.

Then Friday came.

And then another Friday.

Now every weekend feels like some ridiculous secret ritual. We act completely innocent around everyone else, but there are always those stupid little looks across the room. He'll deliberately sit next to me when there are five other empty seats, steal my phone, make terrible jokes just to annoy me, and whisper, “You said last weekend was the last time.”

And every time, I give him the same pathetic answer: “Shut up.”

The embarrassing part is that I spend the whole week pretending I don't care. Then Friday afternoon arrives and suddenly I'm checking my hair ten times, changing outfits for absolutely no reason, and asking my friend as casually as humanly possible, “Oh, by the way… is he coming tonight?”

💀

At this point, even my dreams have betrayed me. I see him during the weekends and then dream about him during the week. Sometimes I wake up annoyed because dream-him was somehow sweeter than real-him, which feels like an entirely new level of stupidity.

Every Sunday, I leave saying, “Okay, seriously, this was the last weekend.”

Every Friday, he smiles at me like he already knows better.

And unfortunately… so do I.