un petit amuse-bouch
Stamped: November 10th, 2005 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: confession of the week, friends and losers, literature and smut, what the...?™.
This is a dream. I repeat this is a dream. And there is often nothing more dull than to listen to someone else's dream. I of all people understand that. But I am trying to work something out here, so give me a break, kay? By the way, this is a sex dream. Did I already mention that?
Usually the kind of sex dreams I have are with people I don't know. People I can't seem to recognize anywhere in my waking reality (and believe me, I try!) Or with people with whom it would be wholly inappropriate and not much fun to engage with romantically (like oh say, mum, or the farty old neighbor next door). But this was a dream with someone I knew. More importantly, someone, whilst unavailable to me, was someone for whom I had a bit of the hots.
That is not to say the dream was entirely pleasurable. There was a weird (ok, I know dream and weird are rather redundant) nightmarish quality to it and I woke aroused and half freaked out with my heart pounding. Oh hell, allow me to explain.
The hottie in question was thankfully still a hottie in my dream. No missing limbs or added appendages. He remained the punk rocker/performance artist/ overall-wearing huckster-cum-hunkster he is during waking hours. Although still unavailable in my dream, that did not deter him from making his advances. He crept up behind me, lightly bit me in the back of the neck, and we stripped down simultaneously. I already knew from his real life performances, what a handsome chest he has and there it suddenly was up close and personal for my taking. All was going ahead full throttle when…he reaches over and slips something on. Whaa-at?! This is not a condom. A flesh-coloured contraption, something like a cross between a gun holster and sock suspenders, goes on over his lovely chest. I need a little something to keep me going. OK, I think, whatever, it is a dream. I can roll with it.
Our tumble is hot and sticky and many positions are employed. Hey, I guess the chest holster is working! We languish in the afterglow when all of a sudden a co-worker of mine–in the dream he is my cousin?!–waltzes in. Now this same co-worker/cousin happens to be someone who I know has the hots for me in real life. In my dream he is clearly jealous and vindictive. He runs out and informs my entire extended family–now all gathered in the room next door (wait a minute, is this some kind of reunion? is the punk rocker hunkster, family, too?) Everyone is pissed. I am shunned. Tails between our legs we make our escape. Mr. Overalls leaves. And I wasn't yet done with him. Nor ready to wake up.
Now why did my subconcious go and ruin a perfectly good fantasy? Moreover what is the meaning behind this dream? Maybe Jenna can shed some light. Or you tell me.
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hahahahaha…sorry casey, but I am cracking the fuck up! oh, man. I wish I could actually help you out here, but when it comes to sex dreams, I’ve had maybe three, like EVER. Two involved me getting off on inanimate objects such as a metal poll (not inserted, just rubbed against) and, eh, an escalator.
then, another time, I had one where I had to have sex with a hot coworker of mine in order to SAVE him…it was hot. we were on a secret mission or something. soooo soft-porn plot material.
but yours? hmm…the contraption thing is probably just normal reservations or anxieties about men in general. the family part? other than being fucking hilarious, it probably just means that you’re worried that they’re upset with you about something.
Chest Holster = Viagra pump
Extended family outside door = It’s Thanksgiving
Cousin waltzing in = cousin waltzing in
Casey, this is not a dream, its a pre-cognition. You will be caught shagging some eternally priapic dude sometime over the forthcoming holidays. By your cousin.
Sounds like a barrel of laughs.
Wombat
Wombat: I think you are on the money. I better get waxed before I sojourn home for the holidays.
Jenna:I look forward to what my unconscious will make with an escalator. Thanks!
Behind this dream, as you tell it, is precisely what you leave out.
That inside, the various spaces occupied by ‘flesh coloured’ things, hunky/ family/cos, in fact, is periferal to what it means to you.
Perhaps the strap-on variation is the clue.
But, before we get there let’s consider your initial question, that of the ruination.
The ruination of a fucking good dream.
How our sub-conscious subverts. It’s eye opening, no? Interesting, isn’t it, and telling maybe that: first you say, after the cos walks in you are shunned, and so, tails between your legs, your make an escape, and, then, you make a link, which is quite opposite.
That is, pertaining to your sojourn home, what you said, and i quote, ” I better get waxed”.
Um, ahem, yes.
So, to sum up, the link is obviously around the notion of ‘escaping’ and what clearly escapes you had better be waxed. Tails Casey. Just how many are there? Just when were you last waxed? And what’s with this strap-on biz? coming out the chest?
Curiously, Jenna’s escalator takes us to a similar place, but we’d need more guidance as to just the interplay between that exterior and that entering directly into her circumstance.
Advice? no, but get thee to the waxer for, what they call here, a bikini absolute - bella
bon vacance
What kind of a mind is mine when I’ve had sex dreams as far back as I can remember? Hmmm…disturbing to think. I just had one recently. An orgy with multiple people from work. I am still confused about that one so you’re not the only one who needs some help with dream translation.
i keep a blunt object next to my bed in case i try to wake up whilst having a sex dream i just hit myself repeatedly over the head
I have a question. Boys can have sex dreams that come to a definitive conclusion, if you know what I mean (and when I have one, in my dreams it’s like I have a fucking FIREHOSE at the point of no return!).
My question is, do you ladies ever actually reach a satisfactory conclusion in your dream (i.e. without any external influence like fingers, men or other objects, just with the power of your mind) or are you just left when you wake from it feeling incomplete and having to finish off with said external influence, or spend the day in a state of arrousal?
Meme, you might want to take the batteries out of that blunt object lest you give yourself a concussion.
Dear Londoner,
All things are possible in dreams, but much like reality, the sex gets better ( if you know what I mean) the second time around. So the key is to make sure you have sex more than once in your dreams. Or resort to Meme’s blunt bedside object upon waking.
But is there anything really wrong with being left all day in a constant state of arousal?
The only thing wrong with being aroused all day is how distracting it is, until you can get out of work and open the release valve with someone/yourself.
On a non-work day, however, it can be positively delicious. Imagine, if you will, that you are going to an event for the day with your partner, for example a wedding, and you both leave the house as horny as hell, and knowing that the other half feels the same.
You can’t do anything about it except sit through the day looking normal on the outside but inside you are both like the smouldering touch paper of a large firework. The combination of arousal, the shared secret that you both know how you are feeling but no one else does, and that you have to wait to do something about it is inflammatory to say the least.
Imagine it, being sat opposite your partner at the meal chatting away to the person next to you. Suddenly you look across at your partner who is looking at you like they want to eat you whole and let you do very naughty things to them… suddenly you realise you haven’t heard a word your neighbour has said because all you are thinking about is the sweaty, mind-blowing sex you will definitely be getting involved with later on.
You want to grab them and rush off to get to it, but then reign yourself in… savour the anticipation… lift your foot and gently stroke your partner’s inner calf and watch them flinch, then watch the sly, knowing smile spread across their face as they breathe in deeply… and offer you the briefest of winks to let you know they are thinking the exact same way…
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Yo nigger!r