In Dreams

In Dreams

I had one FUCK of a dream about Amanda last night.

Literally.

We sat across a table from each other and talked. I unloaded every single thing that I ever thought about her. She sat and gave me that amazing smile as I looked into...

"Amanda, you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. They cut me in half every time. I'd love to just sit here and look into them all day. But I'd rather look into them as we make love."

So we did.

OK, it's a fucking DREAM now, goddammit. WORK with me, you assholes...

I don't get laid even in my DREAMS that often, but this...holy shit...I remember every damn detail. I could almost FEEL it. The sensation of her arms and legs around me. Looking down to see myself inside her. The NOISES she made. Holy fuck. It was incredible.

Looking down into her eyes as she took me in her mouth...the sight of The Promised Land just before I attacked it with my face...and finally, sliding inside...

It went in the direction I think it probably actually would. Holding her face in my hands as I softly, gently made love to her, then finally exploding into utterly insane, king hell, back-breaking, pounding FUCKERY.

Which, of course, is right about the time I woke up.

Goddammit.

Let's face it, it's BETTER that I woke up in the middle of it. I don't really want to face what is obviously the next scene. Just as I'm about ready to come, a vertebrae in my shitty excuse for a back snaps in two and my sweet, darling Amanda is left totally disgusted as I writhe around on the floor in pain waiting for the paramedics to arrive.

Spinal-snappus interupptus. Yeah, it's better this way...

I laid there for almost an hour, unable - and unwilling - to let her leave my mind.

I had barely thought about her in a couple weeks, since the last time I saw her. But based on this dream, I am quite clearly not over her just yet.

The temptation is to go see her when I drive through Indy to the gig next weekend. Part of me thinks that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, especially since I told her I'd be in to visit sometimes and I don't want to go back on that.

But I also wonder if it won't just be torturing myself. Who knows. Last time I saw her, it was simply "nice." I remember writing that, and it was the truth. At that moment, I felt very little, just a sense of it being nice to see her.

But if I went in there the way I felt not 25 minutes ago, it could get scary. I don't really want to be caught on my knees on the checkered floor of a fucking Steak & Shake begging a beautiful waitress to run away into the woods and do nothing but fuck and suck for the rest of our lives. It would make a great STORY, of course, but I'm not so sure I'm ready for prison just yet.

AAHHH!!! Get this fucking Boston song out of my head! Damn you, Tom Scholz! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!!!

Love (and testosterone),
Dougie
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Later note:

I had a dialogue going through my head. One guy asks another if eating pussy is all it's...uh..."cracked" up to be.

"Dude, you've gotta do it. As soon as possible. Go find a woman and shove your face in there and go to work.

"Now, make sure you find a woman who BATHES regularly. You don't want to come back smelling like you just spent a weekend at Cape Cod."

I'm going to Hell.