Lofty Ambitions

I had another dream involving Max Power. What is this?! He haunts me. But this time, he was incidental to the central plot, not the main character making unwanted advances.

In this one, I was outside of a high school with Tito, Max Power, and Max Power's straight friend who had no name but had a beautiful face with an excellent jaw line and a tall, tanned, lean, California-boy body with perfect skin. It was a hot day, so of course MP's friend was shirtless. Thank-you, Max Power, for sharing the glory with us. We were there with a tow truck to tow a car that had broken down. I think it was Danish Boy's car, and he came out of the high school to join us as we rigged it up. Whether he was a student there or not, I don't really know. I mean, he's young, but he's not THAT young.

We all hopped in the tow truck, Tito driving with MP and DB in the front seat. Apparently, the front seat was wide enough to seat three. I mention this as noteworthy because wouldn't you know it--the back seat was only wide enough for one. Gee. That's too bad for hottie California boy and me.

Well, you gotta do what you gotta do. I straddled Cali-boy from behind. We started driving, and it was, as I already mentioned, a really hot day. I was sweating, so it became expedient for me to remove my shirt. Yes, with hottie straighty leaning back against my torso. The sacrifices we make for comfort...

Pause. In reality, if someone who looked like me straddled me and took off his shirt, I would probably snicker and think, "dude, go hit the weights for a year and come back and try that again, and I'll still scoff at the lameness but at least be semi-impressed by the physique. Who do you think you are?" But this was my dream, and in my dream, I get to be as hot and as tempting as I want. OK, resume...

At first, straighty Cali-boy sort of leaned aside and forward a little to keep a healthy distance from my scantily clad, homoerotic self. But as we rode further on, he feigned oblivion as he pretended to forget about it and gradually became more relaxed and less distant. Before long, he still carried a hint of readiness to explain away his actions at the first accusation but was resting his head on my shoulder and very much enjoying the experience as my arms gradually wrapped around him.

I had only semi-intentionally wooed the hot straighty. Not an unpleasant surprise, to say the least. This was going well...and then I think my roommate made a noise, and I watched the scene dissolve away from me. Grasp as I might, it was not coming back. Dang. I need my own room.

Who knew I was into nabbing straighties? I certainly didn't. But hey, we all have our hidden goals and ambitions, I guess.

...and is it unusual that my hot dreams are almost always about nobody I actually know or have seen? Why is that? They're, at best, conglomerates of bits and pieces of people I know or have seen around. I mean, it saves me a lot of potentially awkward mornings after, so I won't complain. I'm just sayin'...