He realized how aroused he was and remembered the last images of his dream, that of standing tall over some faceless woman. She was his slave, and he was her master, and it was his job to break her; to make her do everything she loathed and detested, every dirty perversion that she had been conditioned to fear, so that she would be utterly his.
He shook his head to clear the image, which was causing stirrings down below, then got out of bed and opened the blinds, standing nude in the fresh morning light streaming in through the window. He looked out and saw Mrs. Stanley, their next-door neighbor, staring at him with her mouth slightly agape. He stared straight into her eyes and smiled slightly, letting her look. She was a widow with two daughters a year or two behind him in school. There was no harm in letting her look.