Note: The following dream account contains some graphic descriptions of gay sex. If it would bother you, if it’s not legal in your community, or if you’re not old enough to read it, please don’t click on the cut-tag.
Dream 20040109, 7:00 AM:
This is one of those dreams where so many things happened, and I was so focused on just enjoying sensations and exploring Dreamland, that there wasn’t really much plot or any personal inner-work going on. The hatching baby lizards were just the most striking and bizarre image that popped out.
This dream was a WILD; I just sort of fade from lying in bed, to being in the dream. There wasn’t any sense of pause, it just went from visualized imaginings to dream. I find myself in a room that is sort of like our kitchen/dining area, but it’s definitely a different house. It has a bar that separates the kitchen from a living room; I can’t remember whose house it reminds me of, but it does remind me of a place I’ve been before. I look around the room, which is fairly dim and kind of grayed out. I can see, but things just don’t seem sharp-edged or clear. I dance around a little bit, and rub my hands together and up my arms, which seems to intensify the dream scenery a little bit. I walk around the room and into the living room. I see a *bunch* of different things with digital readouts, and I look at one after another and notice that they are not telling correct time, and some of them don’t look like time readings at all. I laugh, remembering that (in real life) my boss’s car has a messed-up dashboard, and I rode with her yesterday and reality-checked because the displays didn’t look right. The displays are all different, like one is a digital clock, another a digital thermostat, another the clock on the microwave. I look at one mounted on the wall, and there is a piece of paper kind of hanging over it; I lift the paper up, and read the display, then put the paper down, and pull it back up and read again, noting that it changes – I do this a couple of times just for fun. The display has different kinds of information on it each time, and different symbols – not all of them are even letters or numbers. It amuses me, and I laugh.
I walk back into the kitchen. Chris is here, dressed in lounge pants and a sweatshirt, doing something at a counter. The dream turns distinctly sexual. I walk over to him, pull down his pants, and start kissing and licking his ass. I enjoy rimming Chris a lot. I get into it, and so does he, and we end up on the floor. I swing around and push my cock into him and start fucking, but it’s uncomfortable for him and he kind of pulls away and makes a half-yelp, half-grunt kind of noise. I try again a little, but it’s still not comfortable. We are in the living room now; I don’t remember if we got up and moved, or just shifted. There is a small side table here, and I reach up and get something like lube from it, and rub it on Chris’s ass, and push my cock in again. This time, it doesn’t hurt him and goes in smoothly, and he backs up enthusiastically against me, amazed that it can fit in there comfortably. I slide in and out, enjoying the sensation of it for a little bit. I don’t remember if there is additional dream stuff, but the dream fades and I find myself lying in bed again.
I try to fade back into Dreamland. After a while, I find myself driving a car along a road through gentle hills. I think Chris is with me. It seems like we’re near the sea, like some place in California or Greece. The hills rise up to my left, and where it seems like the water would be, my view is blocked by a wall of rock where the road was cut through. It reminds me somewhat of the train tracks leading to Machu Picchu. We pass under a bridge or a rock overhang. I realize that since I’m dreaming (which I seem to know without really testing it) I ought to be able to do something more interesting than just drive along. I pull back on my steering wheel and press the accelerator pedal firmly to the floor, and the car zooms forward and becomes airborne. We fly along, swinging up to fly along and over the hillside, which is almost like a cliff overlooking the sea. There are houses built on the cliffside, and terraces. It’s very Mediterranean colored, with lots of white buildings with red tile roofs as well as some brightly painted. I look into a couple of the buildings, which seem mysterious and interesting. More than one of them has a wide open window-like face, with an earthen or grassy interior; they look kind of like sky boxes at a horse track, but they’re cave-like inside. I keep on flying. I see some buildings where men are lounging on sun decks; there are some very muscular and attractive guys, and I think that it might be fun to find one of them and have some sex play. I drive close to a few of them, but none catches my eye. It seems almost like they aren’t real enough, once I get up close; it’s like they’re scale models that don’t have enough detail to hold up to a close-up view. I fly around a right-ward curve, and without any memory of getting out of the car, the next place I remember being is inside a building, kind of like the back storage of an antique store, and looking at a poinsettia leaf up close. I feel it, and brush my cheek against it, and it has a velvety but slightly stiff sensation to it. I wake up again.
I manage to fade back to Dreamland one more time. I am sitting up in bed in the Dream Room (where I am sleeping in real life) and hear a tapping sound at the window, like how it sounds when a bird is pecking at its reflection on the glass. Chris is here with me. We look at the window, and I can see a shadow cast on the white muslin curtain by the sunshine; it’s a big lizard. I pull aside the curtain, and we see that between the glass and the screen is a large brown lizard; I wonder how it managed to make the tapping noise. Then, we see that there are eggs in the same space with it, and they are hatching into more lizards. They are very big, and much larger in the head than they would really be; the mother is probably a foot long or so, but the babies are all at least four or five inches. They don’t hatch out like real lizards; I watch as one of them eats the shell which was stuck over its head. I remark to Chris that they are strange dream-lizards, and that’s why they don’t have to behave like real ones. As the lizard eats the egg shell, it displays a red mouth full of lots of teeth. I think to myself that it seems odd for the mother to stay with them, and perhaps they are a species that cares for its young. Then, I wake up.