“Toria, Toria, TORIA…!!!” The voice became louder with every mention of my name. “Oya, go and take your bath so we can go to the festival grounds.” I looked around the room in utter shame as I realised I had been dreaming and the voice had woken me up from my obviously loud sleep talking.

‘Not again,’ I thought to myself. It felt so real that it took me a few seconds to reboot my entire system when my eyes opened from hearing my name. At least this time, I recall having the conversation in my dream.

You see, somniloquy or sleep talking is a type of parasomnia. Unfortunately, it is uncontrollable and occurs during Non-rapid Eye Movement (NREM) or Rapid Eye Movement (REM) sleep and usually in the person’s dominant language.

It can sometimes happen in healthy children after an exciting, playful day or adults after a stressful or eventful day. And although it can occur in healthy individuals, it can also be associated with  an illness such as sleep apnea, severe headaches or night terrors.

Many times these individuals have no recollection that they spoke in their sleep, and more often than not, the conversations are short. It has been said that it could be hereditary, meaning a parent talks in their sleep.

It is unknown why this happens, but it has sometimes been associated with post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety or depression. Now that’s just one aspect of this story. The other side involves sex; not just any sex, dream sex.

A study shows that about 70% of people have at least one sex dream. On the other hand, from a  religious point of view, it could be seen as not so good. In fact, it is often said that it suggests you have a ‘spirit husband’.

People in this situation often undergo a deliverance session to be set free from such demons. Medically, however, it could be associated with your subconscious and relatively means different things for different people.

So imagine having to deal with not just talking in your sleep but also having sex in your dreams. And this wasn’t the first time I was talking in my sleep. Once, at a sleepover, my friend had this grin on her face in the morning, followed by, “What kind of dream were you having last night?

Your dream must have been really sweet. Ahn, ahn? You kept telling someone how good you are.” Confused, I asked what I said because I had no recollection of what had happened. “In short, that dream was ‘very sweet’ because you said, ‘I will finish you today; I will show you that I am from Otukpo.’ ”

Needless to say, I was very embarrassed as that was the first time I had had a sleepover at hers. And now it has happened again. Thinking about it, both times, it was the first time I was spending the night as an adult in the same room with the people involved, so according to the analysis above on sleep talking, maybe I was anxious on both occasions.

The sex dream bit, I’m not so sure of, but the talking bit has an explanation. So here’s what happened in the second scenario, unlike the previous one; I knew I had had a sex dream when I woke up. I had gone away to attend a festival and had a lovely time with my cousins, catching up
on life.

As far as I was concerned, I would be sleeping in my cousin’s room, so it was pretty uncomfortable when my dad told a thirty-something-year-old she would be sleeping in the master bedroom with him.

It was a large room with two beds; a king-size and the other a queen-size bed. As far as I was concerned, the worst that could happen was I’d fart or talk in my sleep, considering I had talked a lot all day.

But no! Anyway, I said goodnight and went to dreamland. And there he was, a face that I couldn’t really make out, but he knew just what to do to me, touching my breasts how I loved to be touched – gently but firm, while flicking my nipple with his tongue.

He then glides his warm phallus along my labia, teasing me with it by tickling the doorway to my treasure throve as I let out a gasp and try to pull that dark caramel goodness inside me, but he stops and turns me around and attempts to take me, doggy style.

I look at him from that position and say, “Oh yeah, you know I like it from behind. F**k that p***y
hard! …”

The next thing I hear is, “Toria, Toria, TORIA!!!” At first, I thought it was the man in my dream, but it got louder. My eyes open to see my dad sitting up on his bed. He continued, “Oya, go and take your bath, so we can go to the festival ground.”

Oh my God! Now my dad knows I like it rough and from behind.

Downtown
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