dreams: September 10, 1998
my sexual encounter with Bill Clinton
I'm at a big political event, and I need to go change my shirt
before the speeches start. I'm only wearing my PJs (a pair of boxer
shorts and a t-shirt). I go upstairs to find a bathroom away from
the crowd of people downstairs. I'm in a huge, wealthy, official
home. At the top of the curving staircase is a wide hallway that is
silent and empty, with red carpeting on the floor and old portraits
on the walls. I see a man walking down the hall toward the stairs.
He looks political, wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants. When he gets
closer I see that it's President Clinton. We acknowledge each other,
shaking hands. I thank him (for?), telling him that I think he's great.
He is very friendly, and we shake hands again. It looks like he just
got prepped for the big important speech that he'll have to give in a
few minutes. When he turns his head, his face looks all white (like a
mime or clown) from the powder and makeup for the TV cameras. He
starts to go down the stairs.
But then he stops and turns around to say goodbye again.
I look down at him; we have a special moment, smiling and laughing
together. He holds out his arms, and I step down to hug him (to
say goodbye -- an extension of the handshake). The hug lasts a long
time. We step back up to the hallway, walking over to a small table
that's up against the wall. We are still embracing. I think about
how he has been accused of sexual relations with other young women.
I'm very attracted to Bill right now.
I'm leaning my behind onto the table, but we're still mostly
standing.
Our legs are interlaced together; his thigh muscles are
strong and tight. He's squeezing my legs between his. I reach down
and feel his legs and butt with my hands, stroking around front to
find that he has a large, hard erection. He laughs when I touch him.
We press our cheeks together, passionately kissing each others' faces
and necks. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. The sex energy
is on full blast. When I open my eyes, my face is up
against his ear. I playfully
lick his earlobe and then suck it and bite it. We're rocking together,
rhythmically moving our pelvises to stimulate each other. His soft,
big, pale hands are touching me all over.
Now we've turned around, and he's up against the table.
His pants have been unzipped and pulled down. He has a huge, erect
penis sticking out (at my eye level -- I'm kneeling?). "I think
maybe we should stop now," he says. But I can't keep my hands off him.
I reach out give him a couple strokes and then hard pumps with both
my hands. He immediately comes, the white stuff exploding up into the
air, splashing all over the hallway.
He has to go give the speech. I run to a bathroom to wash
the evidence off of me (it splattered onto my face, hair, and clothes).
I'm not going to tell anyone. Maybe he can't trust Monica to keep
quiet, but the secret is safe with me. I find myself in a big
bathroom that looks like it hasn't been used in years; it has a long
clawfoot bathtub, dark plum-colored fabric wallcoverings, and dust all
over the place. I look in the mirror. My hair is straight and
long, past my shoulders. I look tired after pulling an all-nighter last night,
not getting any sleep, and I feel insecure. Is Bill just such a sexual
guy that he'll hook up with any
young woman? I wash the cum off of me and change shirts.
I hear
John's
voice in my head saying that this Presidential team works differently
than the ones in the past, not giving the Prez any prep guidance before
speeches or debates -- he just spontaneously goes for it. I realize
that I'm going to be late unless I hurry back downstairs.
- FIN -