Note: This entry contains some graphic descriptions of gay sex. If it’s not legal in your community for you to read it, you’re not old enough, or it would disturb you… please don’t click on the cut-tag.

Dream 20030915, 6:00 AM:

I am in Switzerland, visiting the mountains. There is snow everywhere throughout this dream. There is a small town, spread about so that it basically occupies most of the flat space of a very pointy mountain, and I am walking around looking at the town. I remember walking up a switch-backed path, and there is a woman in the way; I have to walk around her. There is a short fence that separates the edge of the switchbacks from the side of the mountain, and there is a sign that names some local herb. I get to the top of the trail, and pause to rest. Looking down, I can see the town laid out below me.

Something triggers my understanding, and I become aware that I’m dreaming. I look across a valley at another part of the mountain, also covered with the small town, and I realize that the fabric of the dream world is such that if I focus on the perspective of the distance, and ignore the intervening space, I can crawl from here to there without having to go all the way down the mountainside and back up.

I end up on the other side of the valley, at a McDonald’s. There is a tree outside of it on which grow cans of vegetables. I pick one can, and take it inside. I look at it, a can of asparagus. The label, which is mostly black type on white paper, says something like “Society Garlic Asparagus.” I look away, look back, and it has changed – but all the words are still very clear, just different words. I don’t remember all the permutations, but I do this three or four times, laughing out loud with amusement at the way it keeps switching every time I look away.

I walk through the McDonalds, and around to one side. There are a couple of guys sitting at a booth; I approach one of them, and without requiring any convincing he opens my pants and starts to suck my cock. He is kind of dirty blond, with short hair, and is wearing a jumpsuit-type outfit that looks like a cross between a pullover flight suit and sweatpants. I enjoy the blowjob for a little bit, but then he starts pointing down at the seat. I take my cock out of his mouth, and he says something but it’s in German and I don’t quite get it. I ask him, “Are you trying to tell me your ass is better?” and he nods vigorously. He starts to shuck off his jumpsuit, but does it without standing up – it’s kind of an awkward wriggling process to get it down, and he ends up with his legs kicked up with the jumpsuit kind of tangled around them. I feel his ass, and slide my thumb into the hole; it’s nice and slick, but very shallow. it only goes in about an inch, and it seems like that’s all. I feel around, and realize that there’s just a constriction in there, and kind of wiggle my thumb and it goes in. I rock it back and forth, enjoying the sensation of the tight spot. I pull my thumb out and replace it with my cock, which encounters the same very snug restriction. It’s a really hot sensation, and I rub back and forth against it, feeling it squeeze the head of my cock.

We need to go somewhere else, although I don’t know why. We stop and walk outside. I have an image of the guy buttoning up his jeans (not the same thing he was wearing a minute ago) and we’re walking across a parking lot. I think about the sensation again, and it’s almost like masturbation – recalling the sensation in the dream world is much the same as reliving it. A series of images flash through my mind – fucking, holding the jaw of a kneeling boy as I pump my cock in and out of his mouth… and then I wake up.

3 replies
  1. dubious_one
    dubious_one says:

    sensational sensations

    i get those “sensations” a lot in dreams and remember them through the course of the day. they can be very intense and treasured for days to come.

  2. admin
    admin says:

    No, I usually shut the door of the spare room before I lie down for Magic Naptime in the morning.

    One of my cats died suddenly Sept 3 – we’re guessing it was a fall, although could have been a tangle with a dog, or any number of things – he was found dead. He came and visited me in a dream a couple of nights ago when I dreamt of being a Sacred Clown – it was very nice to see him again, albeit briefly.

    The silk is going well. I have been working on a small ribbon incorporating some of the dyed silk; it looks as shiny and beautiful as I had hoped. I will try to get a picture soon. The band is 60/2 spun silk in black with a red border and red knotwork throughout, and the brocade so far is Chris’s name in yellow-orange Gothic hand.

    The surprise Autumn batch of silkworms are all now snug in their cocoons. I will probably let all of them hatch (about 50) so that I can get some fresh egg stock – I had some mold problems with the ones stored in the fridge, although they did hatch out OK. I’m slowly refining the process. I also shared eggs with our maintenance man’s son, who is 14 and thought they were very cool. He has about half a dozen cocoons now.

    I need to get some time (and the just-the-right-mood energy) to reel off some more silk; it’s slow and tedious, so I have to be in a particular frame of mind for it.

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