I am a dreamer. Last night I dream my most elusive dreams.
I can’t reveal when was my last casual sexual encounter. It was gruesome yet pleasantly and superficially exciting. Until now, the casual encounter with a horny user tickle my lower extremities. I entertain the idea of casual sexual encounters but never love it the way I love the sexual encounter I had with the most beautiful creature whom I think I love.
My sexual encounter with the one I think I love just exist in my imagination.
From deep slumber, I was awakened wet. I switched on the light and scribble to my journal a night’s dream that keep on flashing even after the cold yet erotic dawning of February. I can share here a part of it but not the entire transcript of glaringly vivid and graphic details of another very elusive sexual encounter (but this time, only as a dream).
I saw her smiling – a smile that captivated rugged spirit of masculinity. Her eyes were tempting and silently trasmitting electrostatic message only both of us can decipher. I kissed her – a passionate kiss of newly weds. And there I stood before her – both of us revealing the innocence of the newborn; nothing on, nothing to hide on. I had shaky knees as I stared her curves and goddess stature.
I was gazing her perfection like the way I should when I buy a fertile tract where I could plant my fruit. A minute or two of gazing before I claimed ownership of her. I could not wait for another second to possess her. In turn, she could not even wait longer to submit her softness to the robust force I had.
Both of us were panting as God’s air was not enough for us to breath. We made our own world – a world like no other.
No one can tell how long the Earth’s most pleasurable bath could be. Neither I can tell you how long I sip the sweetest nectar on Earth. As far as I knew, I had lost myself. I lost the world where I live because I migrated to the highest form of pleasure and happiness.
As much as I never knew how long I left this world, I likewise never knew how I lost her. I lost my position as I lost my treasured posessions. I am then awakened and goes back to walls of realism.
But I was there, I insist. I’m wet – my sole evidence. I’m sure I was with her. I opened my eyes. Said my prayer:
St. Thomas Aquinas, pray for me.
St. John Baptist de La Salle, pray for us. Live Jesus in our hearts, forever.
It was a cold dawn of February. When, I opened the window facing south, I saw the little drops from above – morning blessing!
Now, I’m awake but still dream because I still ponder on why I was wet. Does dream come true?