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grayscale sin

October 16, 2006 Leave a comment Go to comments

(Begun 10.10, completed writing today)

My mind has finally betrayed me. I dreamt last night. I dreamt and now still remember every burning detail.

I was in a starkly bare room, nothing but gray-washed walls and a single (perhaps slightly pink) boxspring mattress, lumpy and tattered. I knew, although there were no windows and only one door behind me that I was vaguely conscious of, that I was somewhere on campus.

I was not alone. There were two men in the room; dark, roughly hewn construction workers, bodies and faces a gray-shadowed blur. Those areas were not my focus. I knew why I was there.

And as soon as I realized the purpose of being in that empty-but-for-the-mattress room, with those two men, I leapt forward in dream-time, discovering that I was now on all fours on that sole mattress. They positioned themselves accordingly: the one towering in front, the other leering at me from behind. It was with some desperation, I think, that I grabbed at the grayness in front of me with my mouth, but of course I had perfect dream precision, and I felt the pulsing warmth on my lips and tongue, pressing up into my soft palate. The other entered my pussy fluidly, and I admit I don’t remember feeling much … perhaps a sense of satisfaction and happiness.

The action passed hazily, and I’m not sure if it is more my active imagination that remembered the force of each thrusting me deeper into the other, a constant pushing-pulling.

[For every action, an equal and opposite reaction]

Back and forth … I cannot recall much detail there. But that is not important. What was important, and very much so for my dreamself, was the other cumming with both zeal and force inside me, so that I dripped and leaked.

When this happened, I suddenly became aware of two things. First, an instant contentedness, a feeling of accomplishment, flooded my subconscious. Second, the other, having been satisfied, left abruptly through the door in the back of my mind, and I knew there were more waiting on the other side. They were waiting their turn.

The dream ended there, and my conscious mind was jarred back to reality and another school day. But I recall this dream with a kind of trepidation. As it dissolved back into the recesses of my mind, I was in a state of disbelief. Had I really just dreamt of being in a threesome with anonymous construction workers from campus, with more lined up outside?

Taboo. Such a deeper level of sluttiness that I had not before believed I desired. And yet … there is was, played out as I slept. Slept, and undeniably grew aroused in my REM state.

I am still processing this. I realize it is a common fantasy of many, and perhaps not worth the distress, but, for me, it is still very new. For my identity suddenly expanding and twisting in such an unexpected way, it is worth the contemplation, at the very least.

What am I?

But you already know the answer to that, don’t you?

Categories: dream, fantasy, sex, submission, writing
  1. wordslut
    October 16, 2006 at 9:54 pm

    Nell, you are not responsible for your dreams. Not this doesn’t sound exciting …

  2. nell
    October 18, 2006 at 12:12 am

    Not completely responsible, certainly… But they must come from somewhere, no? 🙂

  3. J
    October 19, 2006 at 2:54 am

    And what a hot somewhere that must be, nell! While I find lots of stimulating reading around these blogs I frequent, this was a particularly erotic posting…took me two tries to get all the way through it!

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