Of sex dreams & redheads

I woke up sleepy as hell this morning, felt like my skull was filled with lead. Going back to sleep is a gift I don't have so I went out on the porch to sit in my big wooden chair and continue reading Randall Jarrell's Pictures from an Institution (an early campus novel with as many good lines as Picture of Dorian Gray).

Mid afternoon I managed to doze off. Dreaming of sucking Charles' cock kicked me awake: my first dream ever about fellating someone.

Mollie a pretty young woman with short red hair had been the star of a sex dream a few days earlier. I've never known a Mollie and she didn't resemble anyone from hereabouts or the world of famous faces. I think I saw someone named Mollie - Molly? - Ringwald in a science fiction movie once. I thins he used to be famous. (I identified with Keith of Six Feet Under when he was at the gay party with a movie star theme: who?).

Two sex dreams in a week is a record. I rarely dream about sex. A handful have featured former lovers and were more about trying to recapture something lost than imaginary fornication.

Several years ago I dreamed about sleeping with Madonna. I barely knew her music and have only found a few of her self-creations attractive. I admire her as a pop culture capitalist. For a long time most women in pop music were creatures of their producers to be modeled, marketed and discarded. I've often admired independent women since Diana Rigg first demonstrated her m. appeal in The Avengers (never dreamed about her) but can't guess why I dreamed about the pop star.

Disturbingly my sister was in one dream. When last I saw her she was certainly an exemplar of blond, wide-hipped, tartish sex appeal - a redneck boy's wet dream. Not mine.

No bid surprise about a sex dream starring the Justin character from Queer as folk - but I wouldn't expected to be Peter Paige's Emmett (how I love nelly guys).

The smooth redheaded boy I saw in a Dairy Queen near the end of my teens featured in my all-time favorite sex dream.

Those are all the sex dreams that I can remember. Some I've surely forgotten. Many I probably never recalled when I woke up.

I've always assumed that my dream production company is stuck in poverty row and that the rest of you have a much richer set of ghostly amours. Do you?

See also Sleep Sex