All I Have To Do Is Dream...

Wet dreams are not usually part of my life, in that I rarely wake up having been shagged senseless by figments of my REM imagination. But lately I keep dreaming about one particular person, dirty sweaty dreams where suddenly I am wanted and desired and appreciated for my unique and kinky talents. In these scenarios filth will be happening all around me, and I will be feeling a bit sad and insecure and just hanging around in the background, and then suddenly this person comes over and kisses me, and then... The latest episode, this morning, involved the sudden realisation of us being kindred spirits, sharing perversions and proclivities. It was soft, and sweet, and I felt like I had found a soul mate to grow with. There was a vastly different dynamic to the one I have had with most partners, more like furtive schoolboys fumbling about in the locker room, sweet and nervous and grasping unsurely at raging adolescent hardons, a mutual exploration of blossoning sexualities, than master/student or Daddy/boy or top/bottom or parent/child.

(And no, for those reading who know me too well, the lust-object in question just may NOT who you are thinking. Or maybe zie is- depends on your insight *wink*.)

When I was suffering badly from PTSD and having incredibly awful execution nightmares all of the time a counsellor advised me to try and change the ending whilst I was in the dream, to provide my own 'happily ever after'. This could well be what I am doing now, rewriting the script so the Zoo gets the knight in shining armour. This is the most likely explanation. But part of me still hopes it is prophetic!