Dear Diary,
Had those same dreams again. All full of people and images hard to
understand. They all seemed to run together like one long movie. I woke up
this morning still shaking from one so intense I had to rush out here and write
it down before it faded away. It’s funny how I can be free in a dream like I
never would in reality. It’s like one of my fantasies come to life. Since I
learned to become lucid in certain dreams a few years ago I can twist them
around a little and make them more of what I want them to be. Most of the time
I lose that control after only a minute or so and they go on to take new forms,
sort of a mix of the original dream and the one I created. And isn’t it funny
diary how often I try to include sex in these dreams? Since the first time I
tried it I realized I could bring people into my dreams and be with them like I
could never be for real. Having sex in a dream ceases to be about the body and
becomes only what my mind perceives. Last night I dreamt I was walking down a
long road with only night sounds around me. I don’t think I was dressed because
I could feel a breeze on my skin and my hair tickling down my back. Slowly I
realized how warm it was and the sight of dozens of fireflies swarming around
me made me realize this couldn’t be happening since it was supposed to be
winter. I became aware I was dreaming and continued to walk. I started thinking
about him again, the man from work. It wasn’t the first time as I’m sure you
know because I’ve written about him before. Then everything changed in an
instant, as dreams do, and he was there. I was no longer controlling anything
like I had been but instead let the dream roll over me. He was in front of me
and I was holding him, my legs were wrapped around his hips and there was an
incredible feeling of speed with the wind coming fast in my face and blowing my
hair out behind me. I felt the hum of a machine gripped between my legs and the
smell of leather coming from the man. A motorcycle I believe it was even though
I couldn’t really see it. You know how your perception becomes twisted and you
cant be sure of what you are seeing. The wind kept blowing and the blur of the
field next to us continued to pass us at the same rapid pace but the machine
seemed to fade away and become soft grass. I was so comfortable stretched out
on the grass I just took for granted this sudden change of place. I tried to
move my arms but they wouldn’t cooperate and stayed where they were over my
head and I could feel the softness of the grass between my fingers. He was
there beside me, sitting looking at me and I smiled. I wanted to touch him and
see if his hair was as soft as the grass. His hair just touched his shoulders
and though I could hardly see him in the dark I knew he was smiling. He began
to touch me lightly with his fingertips and it felt like sparkles on my skin.
>From my wrists, down my arm, across my stomach and down my legs his hand just
wandered and I closed my eyes to enjoy it. In waking life I always wanted to be
able to let go fully and become the body but never really could. In the dream I
did. Picturing his hands running over my skin was like heaven and everywhere he
touched tingled. His fingers drew lazy circles around my naval and came up to
make smaller ones around my nipples which immediately became all I could feel.
His touch became rougher there and I felt more excited then I have ever felt in
my life. In the strange duality of dreams I was crying out and thrashing around
in my mind though my body remained still on the grass. I think I broke free
then because I had my hands on him instantly appreciating the feel of hard male
body so different from my own softer one. I wanted to have all of him and the
sense of urgency was almost overwhelming with none of the terrible shyness that
usually plagues me. Shaking loose my hair I let it drag across his stomach and
down across his thighs. I could feel him hard in my hand even though I couldn’t
really see him. Maybe it was the intense darkness of the night or a trick of my
subconscious but no matter; I could feel him and wrapped my hair around and
around him completely wrapping his erection up in my long hair. His hands were
on my shoulders and tracing little trails of sparkles down my back. I let my
wrapped hair fall away piece by piece taking a little bit of him at a time into
my mouth until I had it all. Doing this to him was incredible Diary… I felt
on fire. I hardly know this man in real life, in fact he only worked with me a
short time and is gone now. But there I was going down on him with total
abandon and I realized I was lucid again. I moved my hands across his skin
touching him and reveling in his taste. He put his hands on my shoulders and
pushed me away. I rolled onto my back and he was on top of me in about one
heartbeat. But just as this incredible feeling of heat and light was overtaking
me I realized I was in my bed again and the dream was gone. I was left shaking
and out of breath and now I’m writing about it to you.
Sometimes Diary I wonder if anyone will ever read these pages. What will they
think of me then? Do other people have fantasies like mine? Do other women go
through periods in their life when their blood races for no reason and they
find themselves imagining what every other man would feel like? This is what
I’m going through now. It would be awful if it didn’t amuse me so much. Mind
over matter or so the saying goes and it’s not an unpleasant battle really. I
wrote about my divorce in these pages so you know its been almost a year since
I’ve loved anyone. And the ironic thing is that I was never really interested
in sex much until this point in my life where as now the thought of it seems to
take every moment from my day. At work.. driving…doing all the mundane things
I have to do my mind is always elsewhere. What would men think if they knew
what really went on in women’s minds? What would their reaction be if they knew
that the woman they know casually from work or the woman standing next to them
in line who while appearing indifferent on the outside was in fact imagining
him flat on his back in her bed writhing under the ministrations of her hands
and mouth? Or the woman training him for his new job that appears to be all
business and casual conversation on the outside is instead picturing him naked
on top of her? This makes me laugh Diary..I don’t really think men know at all.
Dear Diary,
I was just reading again what I wrote to you yesterday. I do tend to run
on and on don’t I? But I know you don’t mind. I don’t remember dreaming last
night, if I did it’s lost to me today. Didn’t do much today except curl up with
a new book. I just love relaxing in front of my fireplace in my bean bag chair
and reading the whole night through. Someday someone is going to curl up and
read one of MY books. If I can ever finish one that is. I can’t seem to keep my
mind on anything lately. I walk around with my blood racing all the time and
these erotic images in my head. It cant just be that I haven’t been made love
to in a year..I have better control than that. My mother would say it just
isn’t ladylike to be thinking these things. Sometimes I wish I were a man and
didn’t have to live with the stigma of being a nice girl all the time. Men have
so much more sexual freedom it seems. Girls are always brought up with their
mom’s saying “Now Now..don’t go and get your nice dress all dirty” or “Don’t
you go playing with those dirty boys, why cant you play pretty dress up with
the other girls?” sometimes I wonder Diary if this isn’t the reason a lot of
women are so repressed when they become adults. Men can do what they like it
seems without anyone thinking bad of them. Men can sleep with whomever they
like and their reputation only grows. But women just don’t have it the same
way. For instance..what would happen if I just walked up to a man I wanted and
told him so? Said something like “Hello…I just wanted to tell you that I have
this strange compulsion to go to bed with you….would you mind coming home
with me?” I am laughing right now thinking about that. I’ve wanted to do that
on several occasions and never had the nerve. A few weeks ago when that man
still worked with me, we had almost an entire day together working upstairs
with relative privacy the entire time. We had a good conversation, he’s really
very funny. But several times that day I was distracted by the thought of
touching him. Maybe taking off all my clothes and his and just wrapping myself
around him. I wonder if he could tell? Probably not. I even thought about
coming right out and telling him I wanted him but you know I couldn’t do that.
Women just aren’t supposed to do that are they? I felt sort of sorry for men
right about then, always expected to make the first move, always being the
aggressor and the one facing potential rejection. But women don’t have it that
easy either. We are taught to wait until the man makes his move and that if we
do it first we are easy or slutty. Sort of a catch 22. It’s almost doubly hard
for the women to make the first move. I know it is for me. Half of me tells me
to just do it while the other half says “No way! Are you crazy?” Does everyone
argue with themselves this way Diary or am I the only one? I like to think
everyone does. Human nature is a subject that continues to fascinate me.
Working as I do among so many people is the perfect place to watch and listen.
I see couples and groups of all kinds and hear bits of conversation here and
there. I sit at a traffic light and think of all the situations I’ve been in
and the intricacies of my life and multiply them once for every car that passes
and wonder what their life consists of. What do they think about when they are
falling asleep? Do they fantasize as I do? Somewhere on the road is there a
woman who has taken the initiative and made her fantasy a reality? Did she take
a certain man aside and confide in him all that was on her mind? Did they go
somewhere private and forget about conversation entirely? Maybe she did and
once alone with him she found a release for all she had held in check inside
her for so long. Maybe she asked him to stand still while she undressed him,
unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants without a word; tasting his body
and feeling his skin against hers. Maybe she excites him enough and they both
lose control and start going at it in a frenzy the likes of which I’ve only
ever seen in the movies. I know it happens Diary. People long for a connection
with another person even if it is a fleeting one whether it be physically or
mentally or even perhaps, spiritually. I thank God Diary that I have you to
confide in. Perhaps a solution will present itself and I will be writing more
than dreams on these pages.