Dreamwaler

It happened again last night,

Like every night for the past two weeks

I try to clear the haze and fog from my mind but it is difficult to say the least. Maybe the harder you try to remember the dream, the less you ultimately remember. It’s a shame too because I know it was sexual in nature. The reason I know this is because for the past two weeks I have woken to soiled sheets and cum filled underwear.

Wonder if I will dream again tonight.

Don’t get me wrong; I am not a believer in dreams. I don’t believe that dreams are some sort of a premonition or a forewarning of some apocalyptic catastrophe. Heck I don’t even believe that it is your subconscious trying to tell you something. Dreams are just that, a state of mind during REM. It is a late night pizza with anchovies; or it’s a horror movie right before bed. Like I said I’m not a huge believer in prophecy- I just like to cum.

The bus was running late and I paced back in front of the bus stop. If the bus was running late, that meant I was running late; and of course that’s never a good thing when you are heading to work. I guess it all goes along with the joys of not owning a car.

Yet I still couldn’t get that damn dream out of my mind. If I could remember what I was dreaming or who I was dreaming about- I’d spend my time daydreaming instead of worrying about what time the fucking bus was going to get here.

6:17 a.m. is a lonely time of the morning especially if it’s been two years since you’ve dated anyone special. Hell there is nothing that burns my ass more than seeing this lovey-dovey couples shit first thing in the morning. You know, sweet devoted wives walking their husbands to the car giving them a kiss- telling them that they love them. Yuck! Or better yet- a new boyfriend or girlfriend locked in some sort of fuck me embrace staring into each others eyes like it was going to be the last time they ever saw each other. Get a fucking room already

Like I said it was 6:17 a.m. and the sun was just coming up over the hills. That’s when I started to get this strange feeling of deja vous. Okay so you will think I’m a bit strange, but I swear to god that the amber and orange hues that painted the sky were the very same that pleasured me in my dreams.

The eerie feeling that washed over my entire being seemed to run in succession. The woman across the road that had the audacity to breast-feed her baby right out on the front porch. Now come on, do I brush my teeth, comb my hair or do any other bodily function in public?

I started hearing echoes of past dreams- “Runnin’ late Mac- backed up ten minutes.”

This was too weird for me.

It like it was all coming back to me.

Although her face remained shadowed, I could see her figure- her legs. I could almost see her mind and personality also. Her shapely body was incased in a tight black dress that came to just a little above the knee. I remember the dress- no gown was backless. I believe it was formal. Wait, she had red hair… No it was not so red, more strawberry blondish. Oh now I remember there were freckles, lots of them.

I told her some sort of joke. I really think it was corny but for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was. I do remember though, she laughed and reached out and touched my hand as if she were telling me to stop. She cleared her throat and asked, “would you like to have a drink?”

I had to laugh. Hell lately I couldn't even get the fat girl down the street to take me out. How in the fuck would I ever get a goddess?

Dreams are not real.

They say that men have hundreds of erotic thoughts a day. For me this was one of them. If it weren’t for the breast-feeding mom across the street I would have been out there yanking my chain. Yeah, right out there at the bus stop. I bet I could have cum with one or two strokes. Wonder if miss mom over there would have minded?

Okay so sometimes I think badass thoughts and okay, I can be opinionated at times. But that doesn’t mean I am not a romantic at heart. Yeah- even me. So I long for someone to love me for who I am. Someone that would pull me close to them in some sort of fuck-me embrace. But you know what? Two years of almost dates, two years of “kinda busy Saturday, maybe some other time.” Or how about- “I’m washing my hair that day.” Kind of makes a man bitter.

Guess love isn’t for me,

Unless of course dreams are real

Old bus 68 finally managed to show up and it was only what 6:27?

“Runnin’ late Mac- backed up ten minutes.” The bus driver grumbled as I padded up the decaying bus steps.

I quickly scanned the bus to find an empty seat. Preferably one that didn’t consist of enduring a 15-minute trip across town sitting next to Mrs.- 5 extra rolls on the belly, and oh yeah forgot to shower for a month- Bertha.

And there she was.

Just like I remember in my dreams, strawberry blonde and all.

And wouldn’t you know it, an empty seat right next to her.

I wondered how long it would before I got shot down.

“Is this seat taken?” I questioned shyly.

She just smiled and shook her head no. She did it in a way where I figured she didn’t care for a little early morning conversation

But I really couldn’t resist. (I know- dreams are bullshit.)

“I hope you don’t mind, I mean I don’t know you but, um- do you know what goes ha-ha-ha-pop-pop-pop?” I questioned

She smiled but didn’t answer; she just kind of tilted her head to one side and then turned to look out the window.

I guess a guy kind of knows when he is getting nowhere. This was one of those times. I sighed and then debated on whether or not I should tell her about my dream but then quickly realized it would be kind of difficult explaining to her that the dream was of her pretty mouth hovering inches away from my member.

I swallowed hard- figuring that I started the overworked, unoriginal joke I might as well finish it and then let the nice lady be. “It’s an audience laughing its head off.” I kind of mumbled under my breath.

She laughed. I mean really laughed.

This wasn’t happening. Dreams are not real.

Not this one anyway.

She turned briefly to look me in the eyes. It looked like she was searching for honesty or truth, heck for all I knew she was looking to see if I had wrinkles around my eyes. There was a long moment of silence and then she reached out, touched my hand and at the same time cleared her throat. “Would you like to go for a drink?”

I didn’t hesitate.

Fumbling at a million miles an hour, on my cell phone I punched out the office telephone number.

“Yeah, this is Ron… Real bad. I think I am running a fever or something. Sorry for such short notice but I think I should see a doctor- yeah uh, cough, cough.”

My dream girl laughed again and before I could hang up on my boss she took my hand and directed it to her thigh. My heart raced as I wondered how far this would go or how far she would go.

Forcefully she guided my fingertips upward towards her warmth. I believe that my heart stopped at that point or maybe it was just the past two years of looking and searching and wondering if there is anyone out there just for me- coming together in one apocalyptic explosion.

She sighed deeply as my hand explored her freshly shaven mound. Her cum filled my hand and my fingers slid effortlessly in and out of her.

She came.

Upon the next stop she stood up and led me off of the bus. She knew of a little coffee house just down the street. We spent our morning and most of the afternoon there. We laughed and talked about anything and everything that crossed our minds.

I have a date with her Saturday. Her name is Karen.

Okay so now its Tuesday. It’s 6:17 a.m. My fucking bus is late again. But you know what? I kinda smiled as the old lady next door walked her husband to the car.

Guess sometimes dreams are real.