Two Nights in a Row?

It must be all the bottled up tension of being unable to act on my desires because I’m on vacation with my family, because this is the second time in two nights I’ve had these sexually fueled dreams.  This one, however, was much more realistic.

As a backstory, let me introduce you to a friend I knew: “Carlos”.  He was hispanic, white with brown hair and matching eyes, and calves like you wouldn’t believe.  I think this is why I was always lusting for him; nothing gets me going like well-built calves.    He was a gamer who listened to rock music (Limp Bizkit was his favorite band, if I remember correctly), but he wasn’t one of the types who only consumes energy drinks and wears black Iron Maiden t-shirts with oversized jeans.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but my point is that Carlos was clean-cut.

What always turned me off about him was his personality.  He wasn’t mean or anything; he was nice, likable, but immature.  He sometimes said certain things that made you think, “Wait, what did you just say?”  He wasn’t too smart in his studies, but he tried hard and I respect that. What got me the most was his laugh.  Sometimes he would make this over-the-top, melodramatic laugh that had everyone in the room looking around with awkwardness waiting for the moment to pass.  Long story short, Carlos could have been the best FWB I could have had because no matter how many times we fucked, he would most probably put me off a second later.  In other words, there was no way I could become emotionally attached to him.

OK, so do you have a good idea on the special character that is Carlos?  Good.

This dream is relatively short, so let’s get to it.

Carlos and I played tennis together.   Did I skip that part?  Well, yes, that is how we met.  We also played with a couple more people and we would often carpool to competitions and matches.  This is where it took place.  Imagine him driving and I’m in the passenger’s seat with a two or three irrelevant characters in the back.

In the dream, I felt a sense of lust I couldn’t ignore.  You know that feeling when you look at someone and you literal feel your heart pounding harder but fluttering at the same time?  The feeling where you just want to throw yourself at someone to kiss them so hard they have no other choice but to feel the same way?  Well, that’s what I felt.  It was too much.

So, while everyone in the back was talking and minding their own business, I reached out and grabbed his dick.  I could feel his already hard cock through his pants as he looked at me in shock an said, “What are you doing?”  I had no words.  At this point, my heart was pounding, not from lust, but from nervousness.

But nothing happened.  The car ride, or what I remember from it, was normal after that.  It wasn’t long before everyone in the back was clearing out and I was forced to turn my body around to make sure no one had left anything.  Instead of using the armrest for balance, I reached my hand and grabbed his balls.  This time, I knew he liked it from the look on his face.  I massaged him through his pants.

This quickly ended as I was now sitting at some bleachers waiting for him to be done with coaching.  Although seemingly patient, a storm of anxiety and longing brewed inside me.  The best I could describe is feeling rushed but knowing that this feeling was completely irrelevant because everything is out of your control.  It’s not like I can stop the whole world, put him in the car, and blow him right there and then.  I had to wait.

It wasn’t too much longer when he was finally done.  However, he received an invitation to play a match with a couple of his buddies or whatever.   The last thing I remember from the dream was a slight longing in his eyes as he looked away from me and walked to the tennis courts.  He was sort of relieved, but at the same time gave the impression of curiosity in the unknown.

As I analyze this dream, I think I know where it is coming from.  If any of you are hispanic, you know that it is common to be touchy with others.  Not so much caressing, but more of a grab onto someone’s shoulder or resting your forehead on it when something is really funny.  I’m not sure if I’m explaining myself correctly, but you get the gist.  Right?

Where I’m getting to is that throughout my friendship with Carlos, I always felt he was a lot more touchy feely with me than with anyone else.  It actually made me feel sort of special because I thought someone actually wanted to be my friend and touch me.  In retrospect, I suspect it’s just my mind running wild with its best friend and worst enemy: emotion.  I woke up this morning thinking I would tell him that I wanted him if I have the chance again.  If he and I were able to meet face to face, I would just tell him, “You know that I wanted you for most of our friendship, right?  More than you know.  I wanted you when we carpooled to that match over the summer.  I wanted you when you showed me how to play video games on your computer.  I wanted you when we would go out to eat.  I have always wanted you.”

But now I see that this would only make my life worse, not better.  Too much time will have to pass before enough courage stirs up inside me for me to do that.  Ha, not that I ever would anyway.


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