Note: This entry contains some graphic descriptions of 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 20030909, 7:10 AM:
I’m riding with Mom and Dad in a Jaguar. Dad explains that we’re going to cross through Under-City Tunnel. It’s a secret passage allowing us to bypass all the City streets. I don’t know if it’s precisely illegal, but it’s very clandestine. We get out of the car and Dad shows us how to open the secret tunnel – he pushes the buttons 5408 on a remote like for a TV, and a big garage door slides up. Mom arranges numbers on a magnetic pad, so she can remember the code – 5000, a group of 400’s, and a group of 8’s. We walk through the door, then it closes and another door opens, like an airlock. Dad is telling us about the way it works, when we realize we left the car outside. They tow instantly, to avoid the tunnel being discovered. We walk thorugh a little lobby, and out through some glass doors. We walk up to the area where we had gone through the door, but there is no car there – we look around, trying to find it. There is a woman dancing in front of the place where we went thru; she’s in a costume that is a mix of jazz and ballet, with tights and jazz shoes. Finally, have to go to an office to find out how to get the car back. As we’re walking to the office, through a kind of mall-like space, dimly lit and sophisticated, we see people with these odd devices attached to their heads. They have long narrow bits of pastel-colored tubing sticking out of their noses. For some reason I know that they are nasal humidifiers. They have little sprays coming out – this confuses me, because it seems like the spray ought to be going up their noses, not into the air. I remark to Dad that it’s really annoying; they’re squirting their nose-stuff into the air. A woman squirts me with hers like it’s a joke; streams of water come out of it in very fine lines, like a soaker hose.
Dad kind of shifts in the following section, becoming more and more Chris. We get to the office, and talk to a small hairy cute man – he says something about trading it (our car, or the fine?) for hot sex. He raises up his arms, and his Kelly green sweater pulls up, showing his stomach, which is glistening with sweat and has little curls of sandy blond hair damp with perspiration. We ask how much the fine is, and he gives us a number that sounds like $1900, but he shows us a bill for $732. I explain to Dad that we don’t want to try to go cheaper; we want to do this right. The man says that they went down to the fifth level already. He gives us the key, and we get ready to leave. He explains that the lock may stick, and to rock the key back and forth – it’s because of the sugar. Dad/Chris starts to question the guy; it’s clear to me that this has to do with some sort of bomb or protective measure. We leave, and I glance back at the guy again as we walk out, hoping to catch another glimpse of his sexy belly.
I ask if we are now going to go get the car and go into the tunnel. No, he explains, we’re going to Forbidden Temple now. We walk down stairs, several long flights – it starts out like a squared spiral staircase, then starts to twist and turn like maze. The walls are dark tile, green or blue, irridescent. Now, Dad/Chris has become a girl, I think she is my sister? She goes into a bathroom, but it seems as if I’m supposed to follow. There are women standing up, there are also some other men. Some of them are fucking standing up. There is water drizzling from the ceiling. She climbs onto another woman, who is standing up in a small stall like for a urinal, and begins humping on her. I feel kind of left out or uncomfortable, but not freaked out. I reach around in front of someone (not the sister/Chris girl) and feel the woman’s vaginal lips where her cunt is stretched out around a man’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be moving, just standing there inside her, still. She makes a sharp sound when I touch her, and I can’t tell if it’s a good or bad noise, but when I tentatively stroke her again, she makes the same sound, and says it feels so good, and she loves it. The sense of the texture against my fingers is very strong, and I can remember it distinctly after waking.
My companion / sister gets done, and we walk out. On the side of the restrooms where we are now, they’re not dark tile, they’re rough wood, looks like the buildings on some of the beaches in Mexico. There is a whole row of bathrooms; the one we were in has a picture cartoon of a man and a woman, and a man and two women. They’re sort of stylized outlines, drawn in red, white, and blue paint on the dark weathered wood. We walk down the row, and I see one that is labeled something like “other and transsexual” and I mention that we’ll have to go into different bathrooms next time, but I don’t see an ordinary queer one. Then, I see on the other side of a little hallway, two bathroms, one with two women pictured, one with two men. I point and say that’s where I’ll have to go next time. We walk on down a hallway, and then through an alcove I see Mom and Dad, seated at table – but it’s Charles and Kitty Montgomery from Dharma and Greg. I am freaking out a little – will we be wet, sticky? Will they know we’ve been in the sex bathroom? The girl says something about them having a little tete-a-tete while we had ours, and it seems like it’s totally cool. We join them, and as we start to sit down, I wake up.