In Your Dreams

Feeling like my legs were made of play-dough, I tried to skate across the rink. The world moved in slow motion--I couldn't possibly be this incompetent. I'm a frickin' athlete--and a guitar god besides! The attempt to pump my legs faster bears absolutely no fruit. Instead, the ice opens up and turns an interesting mix of lilac and taupe.

It's round about then I realize that this all might not actually be happening.

I free fall for a short eternity and hit a bed. A big bed. A room full of bed. And I'm not alone.

"Who are you?"

"I asked you first."

"So?"

"So this is my dream. You tell me."

"Na-uh. This is my dream."

"Well, if it's your dream, then how did I get here?"

"If it's not my dream, I wouldn't know that you're not really here."

I blink. It might be his dream, because that kinda confused me. While I'm trying to figure out which side is up, my clothes disappear. So do his. So, I'm on a bed, naked, with this tall, dark, grouchy man moving towards me. And I'm thinking? I have a problem.

Now I have a bigger problem. Although it's not so much a problem as a turn on. Saluting proudly from a mass of dark curls, this stranger's shaft has caught my attention.

"Hold on, if it's your dream, then you would know who I am."

"Fine. Kirk?"

"Yeah?" Ok, he does know who I am. Maybe it is his dream. Well, I'm glad I was invited.

"Shut up."

"Yeah, ok." Lips as full as my own slant across my mouth, and I can't breathe. Not a problem. Before I know it, I'm surrounded by thick, dark blue material and a few guys wearing the same thing. My new friend slides into me before I can bothering making heads or tails of it all, and I'm thinking about Alice in Wonderland and wondering where my Cheshire cat is.

Oh, there's one. He's sitting in the lap of a guy with a 19 on his shirt. I wave and the guy takes it as an invitation.

"This one of yours, Todd?"

The dark man stops kissing me long enough to shrug. "I guess. I mean, I do have good taste."

Then he's kissing #19, and I can take a look at his white shirt--#44. Oh, I get it now. I fell asleep watching ESPN. That'll show me--I need to stick to E! At least I understand Joan Rivers, more so than Barry Melrose.

And I'm thinking again. Hell, who knows when I might wake up. So this babyface in a #35 crawls over, and I swear he's illegal. Another dark man grabs babyface from behind, and the young man moans 'Trevor'. No sooner to I catch a glimpse of the older man sliding into young Alex than I'm being penetrated myself. Cheshire's behind me and darkman is about to feed his dick to me.

If this is darkman's dream, he's just as creative as I am. Go him. These are some sweet thrills. The bed dips as the defensive line joins our orgy. I decide to surrender control of the events. Thinking is overrated anyway.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stretching slowly, I felt my back crack back into a comfortable alignment. A sleepy smile spread across my face and I rolled over to snuggle closer to my lover, who just happened to snoring like a bear. I shook him just enough to wake him, and was greeted with a confused look.

Then he reached out and wrapped his arms around me, sighing. "'Morning, noisy thing. I just had the weirdest dream...."