Saturday, September 13, 2014


I had a boner dream the other night.  It wasn't a full on wet dream because I'm too old for those.  I would wager those rear their messy heads somewhere between once every four or five years these days.  A boner dream falls short of those.  It's one where you're on the verge of eruption when you wake up.  Hell, those only seem to cum (come) around once a year or so now that I think about it.

My morning was 10% as sexy as this.
Now, I don't really have a problem with a stiff wake up call on a Thursday morning, but what I do take issue with is that what was happening in the dream was simply me having a wank in my apartment.  Is that the best my brain's run down dream factory could come up with?  Dreams can do anything they want - they can fly me to Jupiter - but what am I doing?  Pulling myself off with my pants around my ankles in my dusty Chicago apartment.  The foreman at my dream factory needs to be fired.

A dream factory within a perfect mind could have had me at a fashion show where the supermodels would walk down the catwalk, backstage to me on a bearskin rug where I'm naked and smoking a pipe, she does the nasty with Doctor Ken, puts on a new outfit and parades back to the catwalk, just in time for a new one come to come backstage, and so forth.  And that's just off the top of my head!

"Take a quick bow and hurry back to the bearskin rug."

As a matter of fact, my boner dream could have taken me to a mythical land of insatiable creatures.  Dr. Ken could have been lying happily in a forest with ferries fluttering around his face, landing gently on his face, when a mermaid comes by.  Or a unicorn.  Hell, make it a winged mermaid princes with a big glowing horn jutting out of her head like a unicorn.  Somehow she rocks that horn; She owns it and makes it sexy.  She saunters over to me horny as hell, tells all the little ferries to piss off, mounts me, grinds away, and her wings are flapping in ecstasy.  Soon she is getting worked up enough to make her horn glow bright red and offers to do crazy horn penetration with me, but I politely tell her I'm not quite ready to take that plunge with her.  But maybe when I get to know her better.

This was the afternoon the woman of my dreams was conceived.
After hours and hours she finally has a powerful mergasm (which everyone knows is a mermaid orgasm) which blasts fairy dust in a 100 yard radius, knocking back the trees within the first few feet of her and making anything in its vicinity hornier than hell.  Which happens to be a centaur named Bill who trots over and pulls "the cable guy" in a porno movie on me, asking if he can join the party.  Mer-Pegasus-Unicorn lady is totally into it, but I'm not a three way dude.  Even if I were, two guys and a girl is not for me, so me and a centaur is totally out of the question - and to be honest a little intimidating.  So I excuse myself and step away to sulk under a tree, pouting about my slutty mythical beast woman who has left me for a giant horse-man.

How can I be expected to compete with this guy?
When they finish up, I thought I had gotten far enough away to get out of the range of her mergasm blast, but Bill made her fire out fairy dust twice as far.  That damn dust works its magic on me, and even though I hate myself by this point, I can't help masturbating.  And there I am tugging away with the stupid little fairies buzzing around laughing at me, and I'm whipping rocks at them, crying, and yelling at them to go away.  And that's where my boner dream would pick up, skipping all that awesome stuff you read about a minute ago . . .


Gorilla Bananas said...

That's a disappointng boner dream, but it's nigh on impossible to trick your subconscious into dreaming about wakeful fantasies involving models or mermaids. I suggest you try to initiate weird conversations with girls with big boobs. If they're weird enough, you probably have dreams about them.

Vapid Vixen said...

I'm so sorry but I couldn't help but laugh. That is one of the saddest "fantasies" I've ever heard. The first part I mean. Everything you came up with afterwards...well, I have no words for that.

Fredulous Yo said...

I've never had a wet dream that wasn't about a teacher. If I ever have one now it's still about a teacher I had years ago. Weird.

billy pilgrim said...

try watching 5 minutes of deadwood every night before retiring.

b.burjan said...

i think the moral of the story is that bill is a fucking stud and he probably would fuck anything in his way, including you, if given a chance....also, leave the mermaidens to the bills of the world.
(nice write there, hoss)

Jimmy Fungus said...

Maybe you were dreaming about the mermaids or the supermodels or the mermaid supermodels or supermodel mermaids and forgot about it. Then the "dream" part you were actually awake but were half asleep, so you thought THAT was the dream. This is my theory anyway.

Mr. Shife said...

Funny stuff Dr. Ken. Firs off fire that foreman. It sounds like he's gotten a little too comfy in his job. Get a youngster in there with a little more enthusiasm and pep in his step. Then the next thing you know you will be waking up to sheets full of tapioca pudding. Sweet dreams buddy.