Dreamtime Orgasm

I think that perhaps on some level the dreamworld and the real world, quote unquote for both, merge in ways forms and realms we do not understand. It occurs to me that this spacetime, this overlap if one were to draw a venn diagram, may be something that we grasp on a cellular marrowstuff level, but are reluctant to consider, let alone perSeeve. We have seemingly become hypnotized by science, in its segregation seperation and isolatory methods, into vYouing the cosmos as an endless series of blackwhite-eitherors, when it could also be vYoud as a vast unity. {{Not that I'm anti-science, however I think things may have come to a point where too many folks Idolize science and the scientific method, thinking We Got This, when maybe we don't got this and won't Get This using the Dom Paradigm and devices designed to confirm what is already Known. They even wax a tad inquisitional at times as WIlhelm Reich would attest if he hadn't died in prison.}} I suspect most of us have noticed the physical bodily effects dreams can have, that dreamverse wee sea as coming from within us, yet somehow segreGated from the body[??]. To me this suggests more of a unity than a reaction to a seperate phenomenon. Maybe. Screw it, I dunno.

Yeah I know blah blah blah, but what this is leading to is an Erotic Dream I had a while back that has been nagging me ever since, especially because of the culmination of this dream in a netherworld where 'dream' and 'reality' played with one another and mySelf and heaven knows what or who else.

We were making love rather passionately and slowly, in a shadowy place. Her features, particularly her face and legs, became indistinct at times but what could be clearly discerned was lovely and voluptuous. She was very curvy, with large rounded hips, large yet firm breasts and a sweet moundlike belly. I've heard this delightful feminine hill referred to as a 'pooch.' Not sure where that came from. Those who jack off on altars of skeletons and starvation in teh service of vanity and feminine titlessness (wazzup w. dat?) would likely call her Fat. Fuck them. Her skin had suggestions of a dark middle eastern glow and she was luxuriously brunette. Everywhere. She wore only the perfume of humanity, feminity, life, fecundity and mutuality as it seemed to me. Few things smell better than a woman. She enters through an olfactory erotovortex somewhere around the crown of the head, she does not pause for stoplights or chakras, plunging straight down a hi-voltage wire to the groin. So, Hi, Voltage!

The time came when I sought to slide my cock into her pussy. There appeared to have been a very brief moment of reluctance. WHether this indicated that She didn't want to go through with the fucking proper, or simply didn't want to commence with it YET, I'm not sure. Not really a problem, as this was only a weak momentary stiffness, brought into strong relief by Her previous malleability and passion, perhaps imagined in my uncertainly as to whether I was worthy of her charms, a flight of fancy within a dream within a head containing two other heads (Her head, my Dreamhead) taking place outside me yet within me. Phuck philosphy. I began to slide my cock towards the moist and tingling world of Her pussy. As i did so, i pushed on her right hip a bit to spread her asscheeks for easier access, the one to the wind so to speak. See, we were laying on a bed on our left sides. I say bed, but I can't say with certainty what we were laying on, or if we were laying on anything except some aetheric pillow. Essentially, we were spooning, but with scrumptious extras.

The instant I entered the garden, I began to come, finding my prick enrobed in a sheath of electrothermal oil, the renderings of some succulent thorned plant tended by vivacious houris. She moved. Whether to reposition HerSelf or to fly away I do not know. At this point Her Legs and Her Face began to disappear, not to be concealed in shadow, but to vanish altogether. I could sense a tremendous orgasm. It appeared to be approaching me like a current of electric vapor from three feet behind me, already alerting my cock, taint, asshole and ancestors that something momentous was coming. So to say. Then Her torso, still visible, began to grow extremely pale, very white. At the same time She became gelatinous, which I regarded with a jumble of emotions, as one might imagine, while still entering deeper into her quim and bracing myself for a whopper of an orgasm. She had become like a warm bag of curvacious female form jelly, drifting away with me clinging to Her and beginning to moan due to the erotic fury building in my loins. Then It hit me. Oh my land. Be a jubilee. This was the Queen MOther of orgasms, me hearties. Beginning, as I said, some three feet behind me and swooping like a falcon up my ass, through to my balls and you get the idea, this was a formidable thing. As this sensation began to erupt from my cock, She had come uncoupled and began to drift away, while simultaneously appearing to shrink, to take on the aspect of a dismembered doll of a white gem more precious than pearl or opal. And still a fine image of womanhood from neck to bush. I shall miss her.

It was around this time that I awoke in the throes, the clutches, of a 'real-life' orgasm the likes of which I have not experienced before or since. I continued in 'real life' vocalizations that I suspect had begun in 'dream life.' Maybe someone can confirm this. What had me in its grip was a thermonuclear orgasm that licked the sharp edges of pain. I rose to my knees swiftly as if trying to get away from this force that had invaded my bed, confused by the swirl of pleasurepain, but to no avail. I began to stroke my cock in a desire both to continue this monster and to douse its flame. I humped a pillow in an orgasmic delirium. There had been no build-up to this uncaged animal. No, it burst instantly into foaming rapids of piercing trumpet squalls and hovered there like an electromagnetic bronze hummingbird for what seemed like eternity. Or eternalness. Or whatnot. "shitshitshit!," I blurted through clenched teeth and felt a droplet of saliva hit my forearm. Did I mention that this was a rather strong orgasm? Verily. In 'real' time I suspected this lasted over five seconds, plateauing and straightlining with no fluctuations, none of the usual waves associated with orgasms, at least in my experience.

Mercifully, The Big O. began to faade, dissolve in a kind of tactile static, a tantric strobelight flickering between electricity and 'normal' orgasmic sensations. As i 'came to my senses' I noticed that there had been no ejaculation and that my john thomas had not attained full erection, that i had been letting the pillow have it with a largely soft dick. I halfway expected to see Big O. hovering before me, having assumed form of some sort. Yeah. Didn't happen. Or at least I didn't see it.

This is my tale. It has no moral. No conclusions need be drawn, nor are any intended. Any input would be welcome from those knowledgeable in tantra (which I sense may be involved here), dreams, &c. Carry on and enjoy life.