"Patty."
"Mm."
"If you're sleeping, you need to wake up."
"No, I'm asleep . . . I'm sleeping. Don't wake me up."
His penis was struggling to escape his shorts. She rubbed her belly against it.
"I'm sorry," he said, squirming beneath her. "You have to wake up."
"No, don't wake me up. Just fuck me."
"Oh, Jesus." He tried to get away from her, but she followed him amoebically. He grabbed her wrists to keep her at bay. "People who aren't conscious: believe it or not, I draw the line there."
"Mm," she said, unbuttoning her pajamas. "We're both asleep. We're both having really great dreams."
Jonathan Franzen, Freedom, Chapter "Free Markets Foster Competition"; p. 167
