I had a sex dream last night...
...and it was actually a pretty damned good one. I’d like to have many more of them. The bad thing about sex dreams (at least for me) is that they always end at the worst possible moment. I don’t know why that is or what part of the brain is involved in that stupid situation, but it’s probably the same part that made me feel attracted to Rick. For some reason...just as you can't "die" in your dreams, apparently you can't have an orgasm in one either. Man, that is frustrating.
And dream sex is usually pretty frickin’ good sex. I’m not as inhibited and I really get into it. Waking up at the best part is particularly irksome because I AM having such good sex at the time. I’ve never, ever had bad dream sex. It would be like literally having the man (or woman...whatever.) of your dreams in your bed (or on the kitchen counter...wherever.) performing perfectly and then, right at the “pinnacle” of this superlative session of heated, passionate love-making...the mattress falls of the frame and you fall back, smacking your head on the headboard.
Oh well, I shouldn’t complain, it’s the only sex I have right now so I’m gonna go with it. This is another place where being a man would come in HAND-y. I must say, as a member of a partnership, I am more than enthusiastic and I do have quite a flair for the game...but when it comes to singles competition, I don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing.
I tried IT once when I was 17 and nothing happened. Nothing good anyway...I did get a very sore arm which developed a muscle spasm that recurred for over 10 years after that fiasco of a single-handed sexual encounter. I’m no good in that arena and I don’t even pretend to be. (I just made myself laugh thinking...“Who would I be fooling if I did lie about my lack of self gratification skills?” I know it’s not that funny but I’m in a giddy mood and when I am...I laugh at anything.)
And another thing...when people jokingly say that I should take care of myself...they mention battery operated things. I don’t have any special equipment at all. I wouldn’t even know where to go to make such a purchase. And, to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t bother. It seems as though there would still be some effort involved and can't concentrate on too many things when I'm having sex. AND...I’m not taking any chances with that recurring muscle spasm in my arm.
I use that arm for many other things that are more important and I don’t want to have to explain that I hurt myself trying to please me. That would be as bad as the time my toilet seat smacked me on the bridge of my nose, leaving a small but deep gash and two black eyes. I was in college at the time and had been worshiping the porcelain throne after a night of merry making. The seat wouldn’t stay up so I did what any hung over college kid would do...I threw the bastard up against the toilet so hard that it came back with a vengeance.
I was working as a waitress (they didn’t have “servers” back then, I really WAS a waitress.) at Shoney’s and every single one of my customers asked me, “Who did that to you?”
I told everyone, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” because they wouldn’t have...and they were eating breakfast. I didn’t need to tell them I was spewing a bottle of wine and a Whopper and I was attacked by the toilet. But...they were rather inquisitive regarding my wounds. One guy did talk me into telling him the truth and then he didn’t believe me so I wasn’t gonna bother telling anyone else.
Jeez, did I digress or what? OK...back to the sex...what was I talking about? Oh yeah...utensils. I don’t think so. I didn’t get a microwave until the 90’s. I hate all this new technology.
So, I guess I’ll just deal with my frustrations until I have access to a fully functional automatic apparatus. At least now I know where to get one of those. I have my own, it’s just kind of far away. Ain’t that a bitch? Oh well, I’m a Cub’s fan so I have learned to be very patient.
It just occurred to me that I fell asleep immediately after eating one and a half slices of that Papa John’s pizza. Maybe if I do exactly the same thing that I did last night, I can have another sex dream tonight. AND...if I finish the second slice of pizza, maybe I can dream all the way to the end of the story.
...and it was actually a pretty damned good one. I’d like to have many more of them. The bad thing about sex dreams (at least for me) is that they always end at the worst possible moment. I don’t know why that is or what part of the brain is involved in that stupid situation, but it’s probably the same part that made me feel attracted to Rick. For some reason...just as you can't "die" in your dreams, apparently you can't have an orgasm in one either. Man, that is frustrating.
And dream sex is usually pretty frickin’ good sex. I’m not as inhibited and I really get into it. Waking up at the best part is particularly irksome because I AM having such good sex at the time. I’ve never, ever had bad dream sex. It would be like literally having the man (or woman...whatever.) of your dreams in your bed (or on the kitchen counter...wherever.) performing perfectly and then, right at the “pinnacle” of this superlative session of heated, passionate love-making...the mattress falls of the frame and you fall back, smacking your head on the headboard.
Oh well, I shouldn’t complain, it’s the only sex I have right now so I’m gonna go with it. This is another place where being a man would come in HAND-y. I must say, as a member of a partnership, I am more than enthusiastic and I do have quite a flair for the game...but when it comes to singles competition, I don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing.
I tried IT once when I was 17 and nothing happened. Nothing good anyway...I did get a very sore arm which developed a muscle spasm that recurred for over 10 years after that fiasco of a single-handed sexual encounter. I’m no good in that arena and I don’t even pretend to be. (I just made myself laugh thinking...“Who would I be fooling if I did lie about my lack of self gratification skills?” I know it’s not that funny but I’m in a giddy mood and when I am...I laugh at anything.)
And another thing...when people jokingly say that I should take care of myself...they mention battery operated things. I don’t have any special equipment at all. I wouldn’t even know where to go to make such a purchase. And, to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t bother. It seems as though there would still be some effort involved and can't concentrate on too many things when I'm having sex. AND...I’m not taking any chances with that recurring muscle spasm in my arm.
I use that arm for many other things that are more important and I don’t want to have to explain that I hurt myself trying to please me. That would be as bad as the time my toilet seat smacked me on the bridge of my nose, leaving a small but deep gash and two black eyes. I was in college at the time and had been worshiping the porcelain throne after a night of merry making. The seat wouldn’t stay up so I did what any hung over college kid would do...I threw the bastard up against the toilet so hard that it came back with a vengeance.
I was working as a waitress (they didn’t have “servers” back then, I really WAS a waitress.) at Shoney’s and every single one of my customers asked me, “Who did that to you?”
I told everyone, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” because they wouldn’t have...and they were eating breakfast. I didn’t need to tell them I was spewing a bottle of wine and a Whopper and I was attacked by the toilet. But...they were rather inquisitive regarding my wounds. One guy did talk me into telling him the truth and then he didn’t believe me so I wasn’t gonna bother telling anyone else.
Jeez, did I digress or what? OK...back to the sex...what was I talking about? Oh yeah...utensils. I don’t think so. I didn’t get a microwave until the 90’s. I hate all this new technology.
So, I guess I’ll just deal with my frustrations until I have access to a fully functional automatic apparatus. At least now I know where to get one of those. I have my own, it’s just kind of far away. Ain’t that a bitch? Oh well, I’m a Cub’s fan so I have learned to be very patient.
It just occurred to me that I fell asleep immediately after eating one and a half slices of that Papa John’s pizza. Maybe if I do exactly the same thing that I did last night, I can have another sex dream tonight. AND...if I finish the second slice of pizza, maybe I can dream all the way to the end of the story.
posted by Meg Kelso | 6:23 AM
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