Dream: The Red Trailer Party LUCID *sexual*

Finally managed another good, clear LUCID DREAM!
I’m at somebody’s trailer; there’s a party going on. There are all sorts of red items, but it doesn’t seem like there is a theme – one woman has on a red dress, there is a red lamp with a glass shade, a red ribbon on the wall, etc. Then I realize that I’m dreaming – become *LUCID* – and I think, “Okay… just turn it up a little. Just a little.” and the red colored stuff becomes just a little more intense, and I am dancing and having fun. Chris is here too. We walk into the kitchen, and there is a guy there – I tell him he ought to get up on the table and do a strip-tease for us. I’m feeling kind of randy. He takes off his shirt, and then his pants, and he has on really bright lime green short-shorts underneath. The ceiling in here is low, and I realize that he won’t be able to comfortably stand on the table and dance. He makes a handspring leap and lands in the sink, and gets all wet; we laugh, then he jumps and is lying on his back on a chair, I think – he’s making a lapping motion with his tongue, and I stick my dick into his mouth for a second – feels good, but it was really just for a laugh.

I remember that Byron knows the porno boys, like some sort of porn actors, and so if I call him he can bring them over and we could have a fun orgy. I go out on the front porch, and pick up somebody’s cell phone that is lying there. I don’t know Byron’s number, but I know that since I’m dreaming, I should be able to just tell the phone to call him. I try this, telling the phone his name, but it doesn’t work – it dials a wrong number. I walk back to the porch, and pick up a different phone, this one is very big in my hand, and has a flip-down part at the bottom – I try punching in “BYRON” on the keypad, but the display shows it wrong – again, doesn’t call him. I am getting frustrated, go back inside. The lamp that I was looking at earlier has changed – now, the top of it is covered in fabric, burgundy, with ruffles. I remark to somebody about how it’s changed; it’s one of the homological dream motives that I’ve read about – it’s changing into something similar to itself, travelling along my mental recognition patterns. It’s so cool to be able to recognize it happening.

I tell Chris that we should go flying. We leave the party, and drive – we go to an area that reminds me of the State Fair or Six Flags – I can see amusement rides high up in the air. We park, and go in; Joanna from Old City Park is minding the gate. There are several dogs that look like Kego here – she calls “Come here, Kego!” and tells us that she was here just a little while ago – apparently, Kego was missing. None of these dogs are her, though – but they’re the same coloring. We go into the Fair, which now looks more like a Renaissance Faire – Joanna’s booth is also the front entrance, and I am looking at stuff that she has for sale – one is a knitted water pouch that’s felted so it’ll hold water, then there’s some sort of broom or mop-like tool. Chris says, “You can get one when we get back,” and we walk on past. I say, “Are you ready to start flying?” and he says he wants to take off from a stump, pointing to one ahead of us. I put my arm around his shoulders, and we take a run toward the stump, then jump on it and then up into the air. Perspective shifts very strangely for a minute – it’s as if the entire scene has tipped out of perspective, like I’m looking at the trees and ground below me from a wrong angle. There is an area that looks covered in snow ahead – I say to Chris, “Does that look like snow?” and I guide us toward a huge tree with snow on its branches. I grab a little handful, and rub it on Chris, and say, “It IS snow!” We fly a little more through the air, but then I wake up.

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