Dreaming & Memory
So… I had a dream last night. Really, it was more like early this morning. Like a bunch of dreams I have, I don’t think it would ahve been memorable. Started out innocuously enough, at least what I remember of it. Some sort of house party. Not, you know, like ‘college’ house party. More like, here’s a bunch of neighbors getting together. Kinda quiet, kinda older set. Where I remember the dream, it picks up with me sitting in someone’s living room, on a sofa. I guess the party was winding down – I recall it still being light out – because I stood up and went, I presume, to say my goodbyes. To take my leave, if you will. I recall going into a kitchen/family room. Still pretty usual. Then I saw this guy, one of the host couple – his wife was also in the room. He’s talking and he sees me. He comes over, as if to say good bye. He looks me in the eye and smiles. He had dark hair, and was wearing tight clothes – like bike shorts and shirt. They didn’t look odd on him, or out of place. Somehow, he gives me permission… and I reach out and put my had on his crotch. It’s an impressive package. His wife reacts with a knowing smile and laugh, and puts her hand on my crotch. It didn’t feel right for her to do that, but it was certainly fair as I was manhandling her husband. He just keeps smiling, encouraging me. There are other couples in the room, and one or two of them leave. I barely notice. He moves away from me for a moment – not leaving me, or abandoning me – just to see to some task. He comes back towards me and, as he approaches me, I kneel. I’m right at cock height. It’s lengthy, only beginning to get hard. It’s soft enough to slip down my throat. I’m kneeling there with his cock down my throat, I can feel his balls on my chin, and the soft, wiry feel of his pubes on my lips. We hear people coming into the room, and we separate. The couples that were originally in the room have brought in another pair from the party. An older couple. As I stand I realize there is no disguising what I had been doing. Neither of us makes a huge fuss, but we both look chagrined at having been caught.
I wake up.
I’m left with several feelings. I feel the 'rightness’ of having been there, on my knees, with him in my mouth and throat. Almost a feeling of ‘home,’ tangible in my chest. I can’t explain what that means. I remember the feel of his legs, and ass under my hands. I remember the unease in being “caught.”
I remember another time. I remember being caught. I was an adult, a year, maybe two out of college. I was still working and living in my college town. One of the people I worked with was a lovely young woman, a year or two my junior. She was still in college, and asked me to accompany her to her sorority semi-formal. I had been in a fraternity, but not a ‘social frat'.’ The evening had the potential to be ‘interesting.’ She knew, from the start, that I was gay. We were going as friends.
It must have been just as I was moving to New York – because I was able to stay in my old house, but I wasn’t living there any more. Memories a bit vague. The night of the ‘do, we met at one of her sisters’ houses. Drinking started there. I was the oldest guy there, but there were plenty of other guys. Her sorority had a brother fraternity that was joining with them in the event. Really well planned, they even had bus service to take us from campus to the hall. I remember that I had a very good time. There was plenty to drink, and I didn’t really know anyone so I was oddly at ease. It helped that everyone knew I was gay. No odd pressure from girls, no weird vibes from the guys. They all just let me be who I was.
Somewhere during the course of the evening, dancing started. I don’t dance much now, but I used to really enjoy it. I was having a really good time. Two of the guys had been friendly and chatty. Ok, all the guys had been friendly and chatty. These two, however, seemed to be more attentive than the others. While I was dancing with my date, they were almost dancing with us. Not the two of them together. One would dance with us, then the other. I wasn’t exactly sure, but I thought they were flirting. My friend’s response, “um, DUH.” We took a break – a bunch of us did – and sat out in one of the lobbies because the room had gotten very warm. One of the two boys, and while I will call them boys they were both of legal age, the one I thought was most attractive excused himself – looking unwell. I know how this sounds, but I followed him into the rest room. I’m sure, in my befuddled state I thought ‘maybe.’ The sound of him retching in one of the stalls stopped any interest on my part. He came out of the stall and we got him cleaned up. and I went back to my date.
I’m going to remind you that I said the memories were vague – cause it’s been a long time. I don’t recall exactly how long we continued to dance, but the other guy who’d been dancing ‘at’ me, as well as a few others, were once again sitting out in a lobby. He looked directly at me, and said he needed to use the rest room. He then stood up and walked off. My date looked at me and said, ‘are you gonna go?” up until that point, I hadn’t really known she’d been watching. When I expressed uncertainty, she told me ‘GO!’
I walked into the restroom, and he was in a stall – stall door open. I went to the urinal, making a joke – or so I thought – asking if everything was ok in there. He responded, “why don’t you come in and give me a hand.” I didn’t have to be asked twice. I walked into the stall, close the door behind me and we started making out. Both of us were in suits. I remember putting my hand on his crotch. Feeling a big dick. He sat on the toilet tank – apparently he was still thinking even if I wasn’t. I presume for two reasons – to avoid the appearance of two pairs of shoes in the stall, and to provide me easier access. I don’t recall which of us unzipped him. I do recall opening up and taking his dick into my mouth. I remember his hands on my head, fingers combing through my hair. I remember forcing his dick into my throat – desperate to have it all, wanting him to enjoy the experience. I remember how big it was, that I gagged a little, but kept at it. I remember swallowing his load.
Then I remember someone coming to look for him. For us. Not out of malice, but assuming one or both of us may be getting sick. I remember him sticking his head over the stall wall. We were done, he as covered, but clearly there was no hiding what we’d been about. I was embarrassed, embarrassed because I felt like I’d been welcomed by a group of strangers and then had taken advantage of that situation. Apparently, I was the only one who felt that way. The crowd that had been so friendly, they were still friendly. We still joked, there was an after party. Mr Stall and I spoke about spending the night together and doing more, but that never happened.
Weirdly, I still recall the evening somewhat wistfully. Not every night that you can turn two frat boys’ heads.
Comments