I had a pleasant dream this morning that took place at my grandparents old place. I remember one of my uncles was there, going on and on about Jesus Christ, or something to that effect. Thankfully, there was a woman there who stole me away from the religious conversation.

“Would you like to see the raven that I got for my birthday?” She asked.

“Sure!” I replied, eager to do anything else at that point.

“It’s a real beauty!” The woman said as we moved into the living room. I could tell that it was getting to winter, about the same season we’re in now, and the room felt very cozy, warm, and well lit.

At one point, I thought the woman might have been my grandmother, because we started to talk about this old highway up in the mountains that we used to visit often. She pulled out a book about the famous mountain pass, handed it to me, and had me sit down on the couch. Turns out that her raven was somehow sleeping inside the book. I could feel its soft feathers and little body under one of the pages.

Next thing I knew, the woman had my shoes off and was examining my bare feet. When I saw her face, I could plainly see that she wasn’t my grandmother, but it wasn’t quite clear who she was yet. Almost like she was slowly transforming from a woman in her middle age to a young adult.

“What happened to your feet?” She asked concernedly as she held my right foot. The area around the toes looked to be red and infected. “This will need antiseptic.”

Then she began inspecting my other foot, which looked all beat to hell.

“What’s the story behind this?” She carefully handled my very bruised big toe.

“Must’ve dropped something on it.” I shrugged it off. The woman was very clearly much younger by that point and had transformed entirely. She massaged my battered feet for a spell and even began to clean them.

“Sorry my feet are so dirty. I usually take better care of myself.” I blushed as I could plainly see dirt embedded under my toenails.

“No problem.” Catherine said in her accented voice, filled with genuine care and charisma. I had heard that same voice before and I knew only one person who can talk like that. So much meaning transmuted into so few words.

The next moment, she was laying right on top of me and kissing my forehead. Over and over. I could feel all of her, smell her pleasing musk, and see her bright blonde hair. When my mind was finally made up that this was Catherine, I woke up from the dream. Even though I couldn’t see her anymore, I continued to feel her planting gentle kisses and we went on to make love. The session was more gentle and the intimate feeling from the dream persisted.

A pleasant way to start the day, no? I feel that Catherine might have initiated this dream as a response to my critical health-oriented post from yesterday. She was probably attempting to gently demonstrate that I haven’t been looking after myself like I should and that she’s willing to help, if I’d let her. Also, I might be getting close to knowing when her birthday is. Sometime in November or December. That is if my reckoning of the season in the dream was accurate. Do succubi even have birthdays? I guess they would have to be born sometime.

Lastly, notice that she began touching me at my feet in this dream. Succubi seem to always start at the feet.