NoJo
Happily Marred
- Joined
- May 19, 2002
- Posts
- 15,398
I used to have piano teacher when I was a kid. A few weeks ago she popped in unexpectedly into a sexy dream of mine. I hadn't thought about her for about twenty years.
I love it when funny dreams like this happen. I guess lots of people have had a dreamed sexual encounter with someone they've never thought of sexually (or never thought they thought of sexually) in waking life.
At least I don't see her anynmore, so there's no possibility for embarrassment.
Anyone here experienced the same thing? Have you discovered an attraction to someone you never consciously thought about in that way?
After my dream I decided to write a (non-erotic) story about my lovely piano teacher: Here's the first couple of paras:
Rose Ely came to my house pretty much every Wednesday for seven years to teach me piano.
She first appeared on a Winter morning, in 1966, when I was eight. She was very fat. She had a perfectly circular face, with nice half-moon spectacles. She wore a lilac coat. She had a maroon beret with cherries on top. Her white-stockinged feet were stuffed into sensible dark blue shoes that were too small for her. I guess she must have been in her early thirties. She had rosy cheeks and smiled a lot.
She sat on a kitchen chair next to my piano stool for half an hour a week for seven years, and farted. She suffered from severe flatulence. The farts were poorly disguised by a little scrape of the chair on the parquet floor, or a cough. They never, ever, smelled.
I love it when funny dreams like this happen. I guess lots of people have had a dreamed sexual encounter with someone they've never thought of sexually (or never thought they thought of sexually) in waking life.
At least I don't see her anynmore, so there's no possibility for embarrassment.
Anyone here experienced the same thing? Have you discovered an attraction to someone you never consciously thought about in that way?
After my dream I decided to write a (non-erotic) story about my lovely piano teacher: Here's the first couple of paras:
Rose Ely came to my house pretty much every Wednesday for seven years to teach me piano.
She first appeared on a Winter morning, in 1966, when I was eight. She was very fat. She had a perfectly circular face, with nice half-moon spectacles. She wore a lilac coat. She had a maroon beret with cherries on top. Her white-stockinged feet were stuffed into sensible dark blue shoes that were too small for her. I guess she must have been in her early thirties. She had rosy cheeks and smiled a lot.
She sat on a kitchen chair next to my piano stool for half an hour a week for seven years, and farted. She suffered from severe flatulence. The farts were poorly disguised by a little scrape of the chair on the parquet floor, or a cough. They never, ever, smelled.
