Something like phone sex, except it definitely felt real inside me. Long, thick, and satisfying, from the back, causing tremors. But his whole person wasn’t there. Like some VR tele-s3x, with AJ.
SO I KNEW IT WAS WRONG. But I kept doing it. In the dream, at least 3 times. And people interrupted and we had to be quick and sneaky, and there was a sense of shame, dishonesty, and secrecy. Probably because AJ was the worst to me and I let him be because the D was so good. So I was ashamed of my own weakness for good sex at the cost of my dignity and self respect.
At some point I had to go somewhere like an airport or convention center with other people. There was an important event and I had to be there but there was a lot of commotion and turning around and no clear sense of purpose or reason. It was like Time Square at night.
At some point I’m exiting a restaurant, and the front entrance is long and well lit with golden bulbs like a Broadway theater sign. And Mark is there. For whatever reason, maybe I’m waiting for someone, I keep going back inside and out of the restaurant again. And everytime I pass the door Mark says “I love you,” the way I say it to cute guys who are outside of earshot, to make my friends laugh. But he says it to me each time I pass, and I pass by close to him and he knows I can hear. And I tell him to stop that.
Not because I don’t want to hear it, or because experiencing my tacky remarks gives me some new respect for heckling men or anything. But because Mark is everything I adore in a man. He’s handsome, and hardworking, has an accent, and funny teeth, and salt and pepper hair, and a perfectly timed and released temper, and a heart of fucking gold. And I don’t want to hear the man of my dreams tell me he loves me in my dreams.
I want to hear it in real life. Not from Mark, because hes married and belongs with and deserves his blessed and beautiful family. I want to hear I love you in real life from my real life man of my dreams. Not to be reminded that he probably only exists for me in my dreams.
Then I’m on a towny road. Clean, empty, maybe no cars. Its a beach town and I’m walking to a beach house. Someone’s either with me or meeting me there but I don’t know who. It’s supposed to rain, but for now the sky and everything is drenched in orange sunlight. I get to the house and go upstairs to the balcony. By this point my companion is with me but I still don’t know who they are. Man, woman, child, adult. I don’t know, but I’m not alone.
I look to the left at the ocean a block or two away. The waves are rising and crashing, big beautiful shiny green-blue crests coated golden in the sunlight. Over and over one giant wave after the other.
A storm is supposed to be coming and the waves could be indicative and frightening if they weren’t so beautiful. I cannot look away.