Dreamscape

I was walking down a street, not sure which one, when I received some sort of message my presence was required.  It was weird because a friend of mine, who committed suicide a few years back, was in the dream.  The reason as to why it was weird will be explained later on in the story.

As my feet picked up their pace and started to run, the background turned into a blur; like if I was running really quickly.  I finally reached a small building and I entered it with a confidence as if I have been there before, but I hadn’t.  On the left there was an entrance to a large bathroom, which I promptly entered.  It wasn’t a typical bathroom, although my brain has used it in similar dreams before.  I think this is why, even though it was a new dream, I knew exactly where to go.

In an open concept layout, the showers were built as cubicles with low-rising walls making is easy to peek over and check out whoever was next to you.  Creepy, but at the same time you know what you were in for when using them.  The entire room was covered in white, ceramic tile with not one speck of mildew or mold of any kind.  Metal drains were placed meticulously as to not allow any flooding to take place.

As the shower cubicles were arranged in blocks, I turned to the right, walked a couple of feet, and then turned to the left facing a long hallway with showers on both sides.  I walked down until I reached the cubicle I was meant to be in.  Before entering, my eyes wandered and don’t see my friend anywhere.  “Perhaps I beat him here,” I thought.

I stepped inside the cubicle where the shower was the running and underneath it was a man standing there in pleasure as two others washed him.  Caleb was his name; not that he said it, I just knew.  He was my age with sandy blonde hair (almost light brown), light hazel eyes, and a jawline unlike anything else I’ve seen.  He had no facial hair, or anywhere else on his body for that matter (not that I could see everything because he had a thin, white pant covering him up to his mid-calf).

Next thing I know, the scene changed and I was touching him, lathering him with soap and touching him all throughout.  There was steam surrounding us as the water was hot, but it felt good.  My hands were placed on his neck has they started moving down, feeling the curvature of his body.  I felt his chest and his stomach covered by abs that weren’t too pronounced, but they were unmistakably there.  I finally reached the start of his paints and put my hand inside them, revealing a trimmed pubic region as I started caressing his dick.  He threw his head back slowly and moaned softly.

The scene changed again and I now had my arms wrapped around him as his back touched my chest.  The only thing I remember was rubbing with his nipples as the warm water ran all over our bodies.

It seems anticlimactic to have it end here, but that’s where it ends, or rather what I remember from it.  They say that humans dream every single night and that we just don’t remember it.  I don’t believe that as I remember my dreams so well, I sometimes have trouble discerning fact from fiction.  I wish it could have continued, but I can’t really control it, can I?

P.S. In reference to my friend, it’s weird seeing him there because as far as I knew, he wasn’t gay in any capacity.  He wasn’t too close to me as we never hung out outside of school.  We met and only saw each other in school but even then we had our own group of friends.  We still talked though.  We went to the same high school and middle school so we knew a lot to he same people.  He was a nice guy.  But let’s not dwell on the negative.  All in all, it was just weird seeing him in this specific dream.

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