Just a dream, dear…

Round breasts that project almost horizontally

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I’m not sure how it came up, but on Friday night I admitted to Donna that I had dreamt of her a few weeks before. Quite naturally she wanted to know all about it.

In theory Donna and I have a complex relationship. I’m probably her best friend, and she is one of mine. We share shit pretty easily – she comes to me with whatever the latest crisis there is about the men (or the the lack of them) in her life, her career travails, and so on, while I report on what’s been going on with me (though to be fair there have been occasions I’ve asked for her guidance with women). We’re close and have been for a long time now, but we’re also very different – which is were the ‘theory’ bit comes into it.

Though she rejects it I sometimes wonder if her feelings for me are more than just very friendly. I get plenty of people telling me that it’s obviously the case. Plenty of her friends, and my mum, urge us to get together. Every time I roll my eyes and must contain my impatience: how many times must I explain that I don’t feel that for her? It annoys the bejesus out of me. The fact is – and this may sound awful – I hardly even think of Donna as a woman, despite the fact that she’s attractive and feminine. I feel more like a brother, and this I try and explain time after time. Donna does much the same, though I wonder sometimes if she’s just playing along with the reality I have set.

We’re man and woman, single, live similar lives, possibly have similar ambitions, but are very different people. For me it’s not really that complex because I have no desire to be more. She is a friend and that’s it, her sex is irrelevant. Still, I did dream about her.

She thinks that I think she has small breasts, while she’s quite proud of them. This came out again on Friday night in conversation, whereupon I made the mistake of saying “well actually in my dream that were better than I expected…” And that was the beginning of that.

I don’t know if women realise how often men think of them sexually. There’s barely a woman I meet where it doesn’t cross the back of my mind at some point. Sure I imagine them naked, imagine the feel of the skin, the conversation, the snap of elastic, the curve of the breast and imagine the sight of the pubis. It’s the sort of thing that can keep me going all day sometimes. Of course it’s not always as detailed as that, there are many – perhaps most – where it is just a distant acknowledgement, and there are some for whom I actively avoid such thoughts.

Dreams are different matters though. In dreams you become the audience watching the show your unconscious puts on for you. Though there are occasion you can influence events the actual genesis of dreams is something that you have little control over. Sometimes the dreams make perfect sense, but very often they don’t. I’ve had dreams featuring some very unlikely people over the years, from people I’ve met once yonks ago, to girls I went to school with 20 odd years ago and not remembered since, and so on. Each time I wake up and think nothing more of it.

I’d dreamt of Donna before, but never in this way. Basically in the dream she was naked and we fucked. It was not a sophisticated dream. I don’t think it’s significant. I would never have mentioned it to her but by mistake, if only because I wanted to avoid any possibility of confusion or misunderstanding. The dream means nothing. Still, I had spilled the beans.

I told her in very abbreviated terms what the dream was about, leaving out the sex but admitting that I had seen her perky breasts and yes, they were nice. She seemed delighted by the news. I imagine it’s flattering to be dreamt about, though she knows me better than to read too much into it.

I am wary now though. I like Donna plenty. She’s a very important person in my life and has been a great friend to me. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, though she has already made comment since about what I might dream about her next. I guess it’s not a real big deal. Fact is it isn’t complicated, just as I said. Dreams are one thing, reality, as we all know, is something very different.

One response to “Just a dream, dear…

  1. Pingback: Wet dreams « The Blogs I Can't Publicly Post

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