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While I was Dreaming
Welcome to The Dreamery. There have been a few changes, but my blog is still simply a random series of Thoughts and fantasies, examining my past and my impossible future. Nothing on this blog is a lie. When I say nothing that follows is made up you can be sure it is the truth. Even the dreams are real dreams that I have had . And all the fantasies are my real fantasies.

There are however some questions which may never be answered:
Is it possible to actually laugh your arse off?
How sick is a parrot?
Are sandboys truly happy?
And just how mad is a box of frogs anyway?

And mostly, I do have it all in perspective!
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Sex and Science Fiction
Posted:Mar 5, 2013 4:07 pm
Last Updated:Mar 26, 2013 4:17 pm

Forget porn - Science Fiction has a lot of the sexiest images.

From Barbarella to Buffy (Okay I know Buffy is fantasy not science fiction, but I loved the later series examining the relationship between her and bad-boy-turned-good vampire Spike who hated himself for falling in love with her )

But over the last couple of days I have had a strange experience with what I originally thought was one of the sexiest images I have ever seen on TV, watching believe it or not, Star Trek Enterprise.

I switched on the TV half way through an episode called "Bound." Captain Archer is presented with a gift of three slave girls by some aliens after a successful trade negotiation. The first thing I noticed about these women apart from the fact that they were seriously gorgeous, was that their entirely green skin was a bit of a turn on. I have no idea why. Would I find a woman with green skin a turn on in real life? Who knows........

Anyway, one of the girls is clearly attracted to Captain Archer and begins to flirt heavily with him, expecting him to take advantage of her slave status. But as he explains; "slavery was made illegal on our world hundreds of years ago" and she is now free to start a new life. She seems disappointed, and asks
"If I do this willingly," (she kisses him sexily) would it violate your ship's protocol?"
"Not necessarily," he says, kissing her back hungrily.

OMG. I am so susceptible to this "willing gift" fantasy that I really began to get turned on even though the scene was essentially no more pornographic than a 's TV show should be. I know that in real life, in a relationship, I want, no, need, to be an equal with my partner. But when it comes to sex, I can be enslaved by someone who offers me themselves as a willing gift. These days I think it pervades my fantasies even more, but of course I also remember one or two relationships where although we were equals, and without really having thought about what was happening, my partner had the ability to play this role for me when she wanted me. I miss that very much.

Of course in Star Trek Enterprise it turns out that the green skinned women exude a dangerous pheromone which completely overrides the male members of the crew's natural judgement (can't all sexy women do that? Lol, ) and it also gives all the women in the crew a headache, as a kind of defence mechanism against competition lol. In a neat twist, we find out that the green skinned women are in fact in charge on their planet, and the males of their species are the real slaves.

Now this episode was repeated the following day, so I recorded it so that I could watch the sexy bit again. No, so that I could watch the beginning and see how the women came to be aboard the Enterprise in the first place.

And the strange thing was, suddenly, knowing that it was all a trick – they weren't really turned on by the crew; they didn't really want to give themselves – I just didn't find them sexy any more.

It seems that (as I should have known, having had this kind of fantasy in different guises for a long time now) I only get turned on if there is genuine affection on the part of the giver. I know all of this probably says a lot about me, but I am tired and going to bed after a long day and I can't be bothered to figure out what it is lol.
Hugh Jackman Shirtless
Posted:Mar 4, 2013 10:24 am
Last Updated:Mar 7, 2013 2:24 pm

As a result of a couple of comments on my last post I was moved to click on a search for "Hugh Jackman Shirtless." I was surprised by how many pictures came up!

I can advise, strictly for academic purposes you understand, that the Dreamer chest is a little less hairy and considerably less bulked up in musculature than that of the previously mentioned Mr Jackson, but similar enough to make me feel extremely good about myself, thank you all very much. Maybe I should post a picture for you some time!

You will all find your individual replies as usual on the previous post, but I would like to point out that as well as genuinely valuing your opinion as a good cross section of the most sexually aware women on the planet, I was also sneakily just hoping to get you all thinking about my chest, and you didn't need to worry that I might be about to take precipitate action! I am delighted that you all, almost to a woman, suggested that it would be best to "be myself," because that would be following the habit of a lifetime for me lol, and as I said, my natural leaning was away from the waxing if possible! I have no back hair to concern anyone, nor is there any danger whatsoever of becoming a sasquatch, (sorry comanchera) so my chest will continue to be wax and shaving foam free from now on.

My chest hair is however soft, and my skin still smooth enough for the rubbing of faces or the nuzzling of lips, plus toned and manly enough for the running over of fingertips or burying of shoulders in my arms, should any of you feel moved for a moment to imagine yourselves in such a position.
A Question of Male Grooming
Posted:Mar 1, 2013 8:57 am
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2013 3:11 am

A question of male grooming

Life can be so contrary. I was over slim as a and young man. Not scrawny as such, but close to it. As a result I was envious of guys at school who were both heavier, and hairier than me. Okay, I wasn't envious of one guy, let's call him Howard, whose chest hair curled up out of his collar like the tip of a cat's tail, but generally speaking, I thought I would have looked sexier with a hairy chest. It was the seventies after all.

Fortunately girls didn't seem to mind, and of course it does make your nipples easier to nibble. Or I assume it does – I have only ever nibbled girl's nipples, thankfully none of them hairy, so I am only guessing, but you can see what I mean.

My muscles filled out a little by the time I was thirty, and because I am very lucky with my metabolism, and also 'cos I keep fit, my shape hasn't changed much since. But a few years ago I did start to notice a little more chest hair. First just a few dark wisps, but increasingly, and ironically in direct inverse proportion to the amount growing on my temples, my abdominal thatch has grown until now I have somewhere close to the 1970's classic star shape in soft dark hair on my chest. More on the left side than the right if I am going to be pedantic, and still within reasonable human limits – I could never look really hairy, but it is noticeable.

NOW I have a hairy chest! Now when every wanna-be tv celebrity and self respecting male model from Essex to Istanbul is waxing the hell off himself in an attempt to look how I always used to look naturally.

What the hell. I've never been much of a one for male grooming. I mean okay I shave most days and have a regular hair cut, I wash and use deodorant, but I'm not going to start with the eyebrow tweezers and the aftershave and the male moisturisers and all that.

What do you think? (And you can answer this too shyram – I know the idea of rubbing up against male skin, smooth or otherwise, is far from your thoughts at the moment, but I would still value your opinion, lol. ) If I were heading for an imminent bed time encounter with someone new, (not that I am, but let's run with it in theory at least, ) ought I to go for a full chest wax? I mean I get it – that's one of the things I love about women: the lovely soft smooth skin, I mean who wants a mouthful of nipple hair? But on the other hand, I don't know if it would be me........I mean otherwise I might as well get botoxed, put on eye make up and have some buttock implants as well while I am at it!
Posted:Feb 19, 2013 3:15 pm
Last Updated:Feb 25, 2013 2:48 am

It's been quite a while since I wrote anything about how I'm feeling. You know it's weird – mostly I wear my heart on my sleeve, and yet at the same time, I don't like to bother anyone with it, and I can go a bit hermit like when I don’t feel contented. Especially when I can’t readily identify the cause.

On the surface I am happy, things are going reasonably well, life is as it usually is. But there must be something wrong, I just don't feel right about even normal everyday stuff.

Underneath, that pain I have carried with me for so long is bubbling away. There is nothing I can do about it of course. And sometimes I wonder – as I have wondered here on this blog before – whether it is really the same old pain, or, like a trapped nerve, a referred pain from somewhere else. After all, I've had a long time to get used to it, and I have had lots of very happy times.

But the last couple of weeks, the last few days especially, I have not been feeling like the real me. I felt it walking by the river this afternoon, it was as if I was disconnected from myself, as if someone else was in my head, walking my footsteps. I've noticed I am finding emotion welling up at stupid moments, like watching TV or films. But more particularly, reading a favourite book which used to make me smile, and even listening to Gladys Knight, has had me in floods of tears.

Maybe it is because of some advice I gave Zoelightly the other day: "You can not be genuinely happy unless the way you are choosing to live makes you feel good about yourself." I don't know how much that can help her, but maybe I should be listening to it myself. There is a difference between me saying that I am basically happy but there are a few things about my life which are not quite how I would like them to be, and realising that the way I choose to live somehow isn't quite making me feel good about myself. The problem is that I have thought and thought about this for a long time and I genuinely have no idea which parts of how I am living I actually want to change. I can't seem to agree with myself as to how I would feel, what I would do if things were different. I don't even know how exactly I would like them to be.

So I keep going, half in the real world, half in some kind of deluded fantasy where most things don't really change, but where I manage to make it work better than it actually does right now.

And in amongst the general fantasy of a more contented, more fulfilled life, there come minor fantasies which help to relieve my frustration – emotional and sexual frustration in particular. I have noticed there is a theme to them. And next time I am feeling introspective like this, I think I should examine what that theme is, and why it has come to develop the way it has. This is enough for now though. I feel better having written it out.
Thank Goodness it's not just me
Posted:Feb 18, 2013 5:43 am
Last Updated:Feb 25, 2013 2:47 am

Amakamaria has a funny post up about how she had to spell "pearl" to a woman over the phone and ended up saying "you know, like a pearl necklace, which caused some mirth as you can imagine.

But it reminded me of the checkout girl at HMV records not long ago. I couldn't find the record I wanted, so I went to the desk and asked, but she had never heard of Regina Spektor. In fact she looked a bit taken aback and asked how to spell the name. So I said "S-P-E-K-T-O-R."

But she still looked a bit worried and then hesitantly started to say, "vagina spec...?"
"No no no! I said quickly. Oh goodness, no wonder you looked confused, Re-Gina; R-E-G-I-N-A!"
She was laughing, looking relieved but embarrassed and I was trying not to smirk. At least it shows I am not the only one mis-hearing stuff recently.

Let's hope no one goes in asking her for Pussy Riot any time soon though.
A lipstick Kiss
Posted:Feb 15, 2013 6:58 am
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2013 3:08 am

As I said to Zandigal, there ought to be a word for the mark made by a lipstick kiss, like on your cheek or collar. Or more excitingly on a firm male chest, or the side of a soft feminine stomach. Like the label of a Rolling Stones record.

Lipstick kisses can be like love bites - they look awful when you don't want them, but there can be a sexiness to them too, in the right circumstances. Mind you, I haven't had many. I remember my aunt left a smear on my face once, but I don't think that counts.

I seem to always fall for women who don't wear much make up. I did have one girlfriend who wore lots of lipstick, but as I recall I'd usually kissed it all off her before she'd have had a chance to leave a Mick Jagger Makeover on me. Anyway, that was back before I blogged here, and I wouldn't have thought of asking her to put a lipstick kiss on me anywhere where I could have got a thrill from looking at it. (You see how corrupting this place is? lol. Years ago I would have thought it was a weird fetish to want a woman to mark my flesh. Amongst you lot it seems perfectly normal, lol. )

So what are they called, or if they aren't yet, what should they be called? "Mick Jagger Makeover" made me smile when I thought of it, but really it should be just one word. Or maybe "lipstick kisses" will do - after all, that describes them pretty well.
Thought Hangover
Posted:Feb 14, 2013 2:09 pm
Last Updated:Aug 16, 2013 12:20 am

Thought Hangover.

My head hurts - I must have been thinking too much.

A few days ago I was reading a blog and I found the following quote from Thoreau: "The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run." I was so struck by the far-reaching, thought-provoking truth of this, that I sat looking at the screen pondering things for a long time before I carried on reading the rest of what was an excellent blog post.

I love good quotes, but I am not normally keen on throwing self-help life-coach style quotes around lightly - you can usually find one to mean whatever you want to hear at any given time, and as I read from someone else on the blogs recently too – "just because something is well worded doesn't mean it is right."

I have read some Thoreau, but I have never come across this quote before, or if I have I didn't notice. Of course Thoreau is famously one for avoiding commercial short-sightedness and focussing on the real value of the natural things we see around us every day. I am convinced that in this case he is right. I didn't expect to learn the awful truth of it so quickly though.

After finishing writing an oblique and perhaps slightly introspective Valentines Day post yesterday evening I went out to meet a friend to discuss plans for something we are organising later in the year. (I can't say what – it is one of those seemingly innocent things which would give away too much about Dreamer's secret identity, lol. ) We only had a few beers, and it wasn't expensive. It tasted great and we had a good evening, but I think there must have been something wrong with it because this morning I found it was costing me at least an hour of what I will call my life as I struggled to focus and get on with my work.

Either it is an effect of age, or I have been thinking too much, because like I said, my head hurts.
My Valentines
Posted:Feb 14, 2013 6:25 am
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2013 3:51 am

My Valentines

You'll allow me more than one on here won't you?

To The One Who is Happy Like the Moon: You are like a kind of girly Dreamer: always wondering what will happen next; always remembering what happened before; always trying to learn to live in the moment. What would happen if we met in a rainstorm somewhere, I wonder.

To The One I Have Only Just Noticed: Someone who seems to be all about love and excitement and new things. I love those kinds of people. Maybe there is no chance of any romantic connection between us, but I hope I get to know you better.

To GG: If you were reading this, you would know how easily you could make something happen. But you are not, so you won’t and I probably shouldn't, lol.

To the One Who Went to Collect Sea Shells: Isn't it about time we talked?

To the Girl Who Read Everything: I thought of you when I saw penguins on TV. As well as every other day, lol. I hope you are okay.

To Rose: Always here in my heart.

To The Lioness: (As if! ) From "Empressgladys" upload on the tube of Gladys Knight's wonderful live version of The Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me; about 2.16 minutes in; "For every moment that I spent hurting, there was a moment that I spent, oh, just loving you."

To Someone from The Other World: Every single thing about my life is always better because of you.

Real Honesty
Posted:Feb 12, 2013 7:35 am
Last Updated:Feb 15, 2013 4:49 am

Violette001 made a comment on my post about this site creating chemistry which prompted my response (slightly edited ) as follows:

"Although some people using this site seem to want to create a false "enhanced" impression of themselves, for others it provides a mechanism for honestly displaying aspects of themselves they normally keep at least partially hidden.

When you come across someone who really understands those parts of you it can be an intense thrill."

This is what people are talking about when they say that someone just "gets" them. They find that the freedom they are given to show their inner selves and be appreciated for it is extremely satisfying. Normally you meet those kinds of people once or twice in a lifetime. Here the effect is reproduced, sometimes, by virtue of anonymity, it is a little artificial, other times it can be as real as anything.

I know of course that I am by no means the first or only person to have noticed this. And many people, those who perhaps have learned how to be more open about certain aspects of themselves in real life, may not agree with me.

(As a slight digression, I must say that I am a little wary of some of those kinds of people. It is a rare an wonderful trait to be able to truly be yourself - your whole self - in front of everyone. I think I know a few people who can. And if they manage to do it without adopting an "I'll be how I like and I don't care what anyone else thinks" attitude, then they are usually very special people. But for many, being true to themselves can be an excuse for being selfish.

For myself, I like to aspire to Kipling's suggestion of the amount of value we should put on what others think: "If all men count with you, but none too much." )

But back to the point, here we all are, and most of us, sometimes, share aspects of ourselves on this site which we would otherwise keep hidden. Even my best friends don't quite know Dreamer the way that some of you do. And to those of you who have come to know me by this name, and see the parts which others don't see, I say this - Thank you. Wanting to be understood has been one of the most important driving forces in my life.

This wasn't what I came on to blog about! It has been a hectic few days, but ideas for posts ranging from stupid humour to philosophical discussion of aspects of human sexuality to fantasies of midnight visitors have crossed my mind, without having the time to write about them, including now. And I think I saw a real life red-haired lesbian.

Another time I hope bloggers, love you bye.
Must dash - see you later
Posted:Feb 8, 2013 7:58 am
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2013 3:10 am

I was going to post - had some interesting thoughts - but time got away from me, work, blah, blah, blah.

Away for the weekend, must dash, see you next week, love you all, bye.
This site creates chemistry
Posted:Feb 5, 2013 6:55 am
Last Updated:Feb 12, 2013 7:10 am

I read somewhere recently that there are four key drivers that keep a woman's libido at a high level:

Distance, Danger, Novelty and Mystery.

Of course, as has been observed before, there are aspects of my personality that have lead people to suggest that emotionally, I think like a woman. I thought about this, and although none of these things are what I think I am looking for, (assuming I am looking at all, ) a combination of them definitely gets me excited. Maybe it works for most people actually.

I guess you don't need them all operating at once, but mix one or two of them together and you get a chemical reaction, one that definitely creates heat.

Is it any coincidence that inevitably, any interaction we have with each other on this site is going to contain some or all of these factors?
The things these Princesses get up to these days
Posted:Jan 31, 2013 3:04 pm
Last Updated:Feb 19, 2013 8:35 am

I only hope I can write this story without ending up in the Tower of London. If you are reading at the Palace, I'm sorry Ma'am, what can I say, my hearing must be going. That's my only excuse. It was all Jools Holland's fault anyway. I don't watch the Johnathan Ross show that often normally, but he was interviewing Jools, so I tuned in to see if he would play the piano, which he did. Alicia Keys was on too.

But nothing could have prepared me for the amazing revelation offered by his first guest, actress Rose Byrne. Okay, maybe I was in the wrong frame of mind, passing the time as I was by reading blogs by shy lesbians, amorous sex-psychologist women and nightly web-cam artistes, but I was almost shocked.

The interview went something like this:

Johnathan. "So have you been enjoying your stay in London?"
Rose Byrne: "Yes, I’ve been out dogging in Hyde Park most days, and today while I was there I saw Kate Middleton"
Me, astonished: Wait a minute, What did you just say?
Rose: "Yes, and she was completely on her own you know; no bodyguards or anything. But yes, I like to keep fit, so I was running past the fountain, and there she was, walking her corgi."
Me, still in shock: Ohhhhh, Jogging. Likes to keep fit. That makes more sense. See, I thought you said........and then Kate Middleton and I, well – that's what I thought I had heard!
Johnathan: "Oh now come on, just because she had a corgi, are you sure it wasn't just someone who looked a bit like her, I mean surely she'd have had some security with her, I mean......."

I drifted off. Kate Middleton, dogging in Hyde Park. Well I never. Still I've often wondered what goes on in those secluded woodlands up in Bucklebury – it isn't far from Bloghampton, where I live you see. I've seen some funny goings on there I can tell you. I was propositioned by some swappers in a pub near there once. She obviously can't leave it alone you see, poor thing.

Oh no, wait, she was jogging, yes, just jogging Dreamer, for goodness sake get a grip!
Terms of Affection
Posted:Jan 30, 2013 4:43 am
Last Updated:Feb 6, 2013 3:55 am

Someone called me "babe" in a comment last week – Oooo it made me go all melty, lol!

But it set me thinking about terms of affection, and how we use them, what they mean. I don't normally use "babe" myself, although - for reasons not worth explaining - I did get into that habit with The Blogger Who Loved Me. We both called each other babe, or baby, and it did seem appropriate as she was American. It became like it was her name, but I don't know if I could use it again.

All the same it did make me smile when I read it again last week – coming from that person it seemed just natural, and I really liked it.

I'm not into silly pet names much, though I have used them in the past. I am prone to calling women I particularly like "gorgeous" or "beautiful," but only if I really mean it. Sometimes relationships just do generate their own special names, and they should always be kept secret I think. I can't stand couples who call each other "snookums" in public, and probably neither can anyone else. And they can belittle the sexiness of a relationship I think, if you are not careful with them.

I think there are some terms of endearment which can be a turn on, and others which are somehow meant to convey a non-sexy affection. Maybe the terms you use to people reveal aspects of your emotions. There might be certain terms you like to hear from a lover, but not otherwise.

I remember there was a spate of women calling me "hun" on this site for a while, but that seems to have died away again now. I wonder, maybe there are temporary fashions in terms of endearment?

Now I think about it, I do think they can have subtle differences in meaning. I don't think I have ever been called "Hun" by anyone who was turned on by me. And maybe I call women I fancy and want to be charming to, "gorgeous," and reserve "beautiful" for women I feel more long term affectionate about as well, I'm not sure.

Someone I became very fond of recently always called me "darling," but not in that long drawling luvvie sort of way, more a clipped first syllable which made it uniquely hers. Mind you, I think she calls everyone darling, but it seemed to have special relevance for me. She still does it when we talk and it always makes me feel special. It might not do from someone else, but is that because of how she says it, or just because it is her?

My favourite aunt, for example, called everyone darling, in a kind of nineteen thirties way, and in the end confessed that it made life easier because she never had to remember any names. Everyone, I mean absolutely everyone, was darling. She would probably have called the Queen darling if she'd ever met her.

My mother on the other hand called everyone "dear," and I can't tell you how lovable that was. Like Miss Marple calls people dear, but with even more affection. I don't think anyone younger could carry it off though, it's a generation thing, I know. But I will never forget the time I brought home a new girlfriend, (someone who, after we broke up, became a life long friend and even gets a mention on this blog now and again, ) who, on that particular day was looking like a high class – short clingy skirt, long fuckable legs and nipples poking out through the skimpy fabric. And my mother never batted an eyelid. All she said was, "hello dear, how lovely to meet you, do come in and have a cup of tea." And she sat there chatting, making her feel at home, and never once showed any anxiety about how this sexy young thing might be leading her impressionable astray. Which she was, gorgeously.

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