Dreams: November 10, 1997



a discoteca orgy

I go into an Italian discoteca with a male friend. It's dark inside, and there's a BIG square bed surface in the middle. About four young men are reclining there. My friend and I climb onto it, and I realize that it's going to be an orgy (but only fooling around -- not necessarily anything serious). I'm wearing my black long-underwear shirt that is made of sheer silk, with a black bra underneath. I see that I'm the only female, and the rest of the group (about 5 others) are young men. I see two men turn toward each other (as they're lying down), ready to kiss, which is surprising to me; I've never seen that open lack of homophobia.

S.H. is there, looking the same as he did in 2nd grade or so, with his shaggy blonde hair. He crawls up to me as soon as I get on the bed, an expectant naughty look on his face. I am not attracted to him at all, wondering what the proper etiquette would be in a typical orgy situation such as this one. He has white dust all over his face, which really looks like flour. I wipe it off his nose and cheeks, kind of pushing him away in a friendly way.

I turn to a cute guy on my left who is stretched out on his back. My male friend has been doing stuff with him. I'm moving slowly; I put a finger against his lips, almost into his mouth, then pull it away teasingly. He tells me to give him another "___" (some slang term for what I just did). I do it again, and it apparently turns him on. I lean over and breathe into his ear and delicately suck his earlobe, which is difficult, because he is wearing a big round silver ball earring on a post.

My friend is doing something to this guy below the waist, although he's still wearing pants. I reach down and pull up his shirt, softly touching his tummy and chest. My fingers go down to his waist and unbutton his pants. I hold his penis, which is slightly hard.

Then suddenly I'm outside the discoteca, talking to a guy who's wearing a black leather jacket, sitting on a motorcycle next to where I stand. We have a zing between us; we are having a flirting exchange, though in subtle tones. He offers to drive me home. Other people are around us. I need to go get something. I'm attracted to him.

FIN



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