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Dean had had this dream before. Anna had walked in on him in this dream, but that didn't matter to him. It was a good dream, and he'll take it. What better way for his psyche to manifest and deal with the stress of his every day existence than to do what it did best. He no longer had demons to the right, trying to kill his ass and angels to the left with all their cryptic shit. Now he had two hot, sexy figures of pure undiluted eroticism. Screw his porn/reality filter, he liked this dream. It always resulted in a nice, firm case of morning wood, leading to an exessive use of hot water and a deep feeling of relaxation.
And then Castiel walked down the illuminated stage.
"Dean, there is a situation in Alliance, Nebraska that you need to attend to immediately. We believe there is a seal..." Castiel pauses from his instructions, his notice finally going to the two scantily clad women who decided the uptight angel was just as good as any dance pole.
Dean could barely lift his gobsmacked jaw, shocked and humiliated. For Castiel, of all people, to witness this little piece of blasphemy, let alone to see a shapely demoness and vixeness angel each take a side of Castiel for their own, undulating and grinding up against him with skill, was more than Deans mind could apparently process.
"Really Dean, do you think this is entirely appropriate?" Castiel stated in a monotone that clearly expressed his disapproval of the metaphorical imagery his
subconcious had produced. "Alliance, Nebraska."
With that, Castiel disappeared, as did the dancers and the stage, as Dean started awake with a gasp. His face sank into his trembling hands and his groin pulsed with the most raging hard on he had ever had.
"Holy fuck."