Dreams on Loan

5.7 Million

It’s 8:15 a.m., Sunday morning and I am typing, trying to express what I saw/felt in my dreams.  The first thing I dreamt was that I opened one of my Student Loan notes for payment to learn, with interest and penalties, I owed 5.7 million dollars and they wanted a payment of $30,000 +/- so I sent them a check for $25 in a money order.  I dropped a stamp then sent it off in the mail.

I went to sleep around 2:00 a.m., the last thing on my mind being a portrait of Joan Crawford after seeing the special, “Secrets of the Will”, and seeing what happened to her family.  Super sad & creepy too.

My first dream was about someone I miss/missed a great deal.  She was reentering my life (which is in the realm of TOTAL fiction) even though several years have passed.  She told me she wasn’t leaving her home but she’d meet me in the middle of both our places.  She had actually come to my home and visited my family, who all took to her quite easily, liking her immediately.  We kept finding ourselves outdoors, surrounded by large trees and open woods.  I found myself kissing her again, holding her, amazed she hadn’t aged, changed or differed in any way since the last time I laid eyes on her gorgeous figure.

                The next thing that I remember is being in a shelter/gym/mall situation with a group of kids/teens due to some occurrence for us to congregate.  Maybe I was a leader, I don’t remember, but everyone was dressed for summer: shorts, t-shirts, flip-flops, bikini tops and the like.  I didn’t question it nor do I remember anyone eating anything but that’s what was going on at that moment.  Now that night I was sleeping in my mattress, when a busty brunette with big hair came onto the edge, wearing a t-shirt, shaking me gently, whispering, “Can I stay here?” 

                She reminded me of Vanessa Del Rio and Lisa Ann in the same breath with a hint of color on her skin, but not as old.  She was in her early 30’s when I first saw her in action so this was a younger woman/version of her.  (In fact, she kinda looked like this young internet model.)

                “Sure”, I mumbled, and turned my back to her.  We were ass to ass, and I was trying to give her space so she could relax.  Suddenly, a hand came to my shoulder, and I heard, “That’s not what I meant.”  

So I turned over, and she had her back to me.  I spooned her, placing one hand over her stomach, stroking it and feeling her belly through her t-shirt.  She wiggled, and then moved closer, keeping me pressed tight to her body.  I kissed the back of her neck, and she rolled over, one knee atop the other, smiling at me in the darkness.  I looked down at her, and she smiled back.  I felt my body moving closer, my waist working to spread her thighs, kissing her chin and her eyes fluttered.  She whispered, “That’s what I meant.”

                “Really?”  I could feel my cock slipping between her cheeks, then up along her thigh and slowly into the sweet spot that made her eyes flutter again, her smile widen and her breast start heaving as she let her t-shirt ride up, baring the perfect hard nipples to me, which disappeared into darkness as I fell face-down to lick/suck them.  (And anyone who knows me knows I am a breast man.)

               

                I awoke briefly to barking dogs, as there has been a goat loose nearby and it’s neck-bell makes a clanging sound, so I rose, opened the door to my shanty and let them loose, allowing them to bark all they pleased.  Before I slipped and arose to release the dogs, I thought she said, “You won’t let anyone else cum in me will you?” 

I don’t know why but for some reason … maybe it’s my hidden perversions but I felt it was something akin to maybe a bisexual reference or an orgy idea/ideal/condom use.  Totally unsure but something I registered in my head.  Either way she was smiling and that was enough for me.

I finally arose around 8:00 a.m. and have been sitting here ever since, editing, rewriting, sipping coffee, feeding dogs, occasionally looking for internet porn and checking e-mails.  I can’t say dreams mean nothing, and I can’t honestly say I can translate them as they’re personal to our own fears and desires, emotions and failings.  Failure is someone I am familiar with like my own Shadow; in fact, I think he is a Shadow, a sense of all I could be or all I could have been, and am still trying to capture even at this age, at this time.

It’s 11:30 p.m. and I have work in the morning.  I’ve got to steam my slacks and a shirt, polish my shoes and make sure I shave and have my morning coffee.  I am supposed to do the announcements in the morning, as I am taking the place of the student council sponsor who also teaches Algebra and Geometry at the middle school I’ll be at in the morning.