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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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No More Doggin
Posted:Mar 26, 2012 4:38 pm
Last Updated:Aug 9, 2012 4:07 am

I wonder if Rosco Gordon knew what it meant when he sang, "No more Doggin, foolin around with you." Maybe back then it didn't mean what it means now.

I used to think I really understood the allure of having sex with someone you've only just met. It is certainly a potent fantasy, but in real life I have never tried it. Oh, ......well, actually I suppose I have, but not quite in the way the title of this post suggests, and anyway, that happened a very long time ago and is another story completely.

I have Future Girl to thank for introducing me to Rosco by the way, and if you have never heard his 1950s version (there are several more polished recent ones, ) I urge you to look it up on the tube. For the musically inclined it has the most incredibly loose shuffle beat, almost hinting at ska, and a saxophone solo which, like the one on Ray Charles' "Mess Around," would be enough to make John Candy crash the car while steering with his knees.

And it was something FG said to me the other day, coupled with something that has been going on recently, that made me realise something more specific about what it takes for me to be drawn to someone right now. Don't forget, this is not something I have been actively looking for - I just think I could let it happen if I were to get to know someone who creates the right feelings in me. Perhaps it is because I have spent quite a lot of time over the last five or six years fantasising about having an encounter with someone I already know either through these pages, or somewhere a whole lot closer to home. Or perhaps because I have become so fascinated by what I think of as the mental side of sex - "The Thoughts," as Rose used to call them - that I now think it is often the long slow anticipation that really creates that wonderful head-spinning rush when it finally happens. About even the thought of it happening.

It is true that not having sex for so long has made me want it badly, but it has not made me want it indiscriminately. Quite the reverse in fact. It would be easy if I could be what I once referred to as a "ruthless slut-fucker." But in fact to get me to even consider getting involved physically with someone now, I need to be intensely turned on by the mere thought of them, I need to care about what they want from any relationship with me, and they would need to understand me and make me feel comfortable about how we were relating to each other. If you add to that the fact that my craving is for a safe, caring, but secret lover: one who wants to be with me but doesn't want me to change the other part of my life, then I am "not asking for much" as Rose told me the other day, with a laugh. Which is probably why it doesn't happen.

I must admit I do have someone specific in mind in trying to think this through, but I don't really know whether there is any chance of either of us to be able to let anything happen. All I know is that the way I feel right now, I would be happy if I could lie back and just feel her kissing me. No more than that – or at least maybe to feel her pressed against me too. To be able to stop worrying about how I feel, or how she feels and to hear her telling me it's okay, she's here, she understands. That would be enough for me. For now at least.
The Hunger Continues
Posted:Mar 15, 2012 4:57 pm
Last Updated:May 3, 2012 6:03 pm

I put off emailing GG for a while, but in the end today I knew I had to. But it obviously didn't arrive because later in the afternoon I got one from her, "Dreamer, where's my email? Ha ha!"

I re-sent mine, telling her she must be psychic, and she came back with, "I was wondering if you were free for a drink tonight?"

So I said yes, and we spent the evening together. We had fun but also, as before, we talked about a lot of serious emotional stuff, and I was pretty honest about how she makes me feel; about the kinds of things I would like to happen, and what I wouldn't want to happen. Nothing happened, but she admitted that, like me, she gets a thrill from being in my company. She said she wanted time to think about what she might want to do about it, if anything. (Like she's only had nine months since the last time I saw her, lol!) But actually that is kind of what I wanted to happen too. Weird, but good too.

This is the most current blog post I have ever written. Everything else has been either in the past or fantasised a little bit. This is a real, up-to-date dangerous situation, and I don't know how I feel about it. The evening wasn't quite as electric as last time - I think maybe we were both holding back a little, hoping the other would make the running. But there was a moment when the conversation came out of the abstract for a while, and my heart rate quickened, and my head started to spin, just as if her arms were around my neck and those gorgeous purple painted lips were kissing me softly and her tongue was flickering over mine.
The Hunger Arises
Posted:Mar 8, 2012 1:11 pm
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2012 4:26 pm

I was unloading my car after getting back from a trip, and who should come smiling down the road and stop to say hello. GOTHIC GIRL. Yes, we haven't heard much about her for a while have we? Well, there she was, looking all sleek and glamorous in her black velvet jacket and with her jet black hair and her black shoes and her short black skirt.

She was smiling and chatting and telling me what she'd been doing, "not much actually" she said.
"I thought you were going to email me about going for a drink sometime," I ventured.
"I know, but I got back with my ex for a while and felt a bit weird about it. That's all over now though." She smiled expectantly, looking up at me.
"So maybe I just need to be more persistent," I said, referencing a conversation we once had about guys who never give up.
She smiled coyly. "Maybe," she said. "I've got to get home for dinner now - send me another email."
I said goodbye and off she went.

I don't know what it is, but that woman really gets to me. In a good, but infinitely dangerous way. She is like Jam and Honey on the same piece of toast.

If I email her and she comes round for another evening, all kinds of complications could set in. I think I probably will though. Partly 'cos I know if I don't I will never stop thinking about it, and partly because it has become like a real life soap opera, and I really want to know what happens next!
Jam and Honey
Posted:Mar 7, 2012 10:51 am
Last Updated:Mar 12, 2012 3:26 am

Sometimes I like to have toast and jam for tea in the afternoon. (I'm English – it is perfectly normal.) But I ran out of jam, so I wrote it on the list to get some more when I next go to the supermarket. But when I was at the supermarket, trying to time my exit so that I would get served by the beautiful and seductive Venus Fly Trap at the checkout, I remembered I had a pot of honey in the cupboard at home. I decided honey would be more healthy so I didn't buy the jam.

But because I keep the honey in the cupboard and not in the fridge (where I keep the butter and the jam) whenever it gets to tea time I forget that I have honey, go without, and write "jam" again on the list. Then at the supermarket I remember I have honey so I don't buy jam again. I have just realised that this has been going on for weeks. Just now I had smoked mackerel pate and toast for lunch, and the toast reminded me. (Actually I burnt the toast, but that was because one of my favourite people distracted me and isn't relevant.)

So I am stuck in an un-ending memory cycle. Why I thought any of you would be interested in this I have no idea.

Unless – it suddenly occurs to me, remembering how the Hippiechick likes to read deep thoughts – maybe this is like life? It is so easy to forget the honey in the cupboard when it is there at home ready for you, just longing to ooze around a slice of toast. Maybe you remember there are a few crumbs and bits of butter in it where you dipped the knife in once or twice before. (My mother always told me to use a spoon, but still I never do.) But then, when you are looking at the sickly, over-sweetened, mass-produced, really-quite-bad-for-you jam at the supermarket, then the wonderfully healthy honey you have back at home keeps springing to mind. Of course at least with comestibles it is socially acceptable to have both. Although perhaps not both at the same time?

How am I doing?
Two posts in one
Posted:Mar 1, 2012 11:18 am
Last Updated:Mar 7, 2012 10:46 am

I'm sort of
Off with myself. Or is it life? Life is life, I know, but I'm Still pissed off
With myself, at least I was, when I thought of writing this for
My blog. Not only have I recently been beset by an
Inability to come up with anything interesting
To write about, but I have also twinged a muscle and can hardly
Move. I have some good work on, which is welcome, but
On the other hand it means less time for watching TV.

Blame my irritation on
A TV soap opera telling me "You shouldn't commit to a
Relationship- when you have unresolved feelings for
Someone in the past."
I really hate that, I mean what am I supposed to do? I
Used to think that all you need
To be happy with someone is to want to be with them -
Love makes it all work out okay.

But it isn't as simple as that
Nothing ever is of course. It
Changes- how I see myself, and that makes it difficult. But
I can't just never have a girlfriend because I also
Have residual feelings for others - for me they never seem
To completely go away. It's no big
Deal really, but it makes me feel guilty and pissed off
With myself sometimes. I just wish
It was something I didn't care about but then

I wouldn't be me would I? Anyway, now I have written this I
Think I might go and make a cup of tea.
Sometimes putting thoughts down where
I know they will be understood, or at least
Actually thought about by someone else helps me work out what I
Want. (And that is a cup of tea?) I know I dream up my own
Complications, most people wouldn't agonize over any of it. Maybe

Someone is out there knows what I am talking about though, someone
Who, like the lovely red-head in my dream last night,
Can lean their head against my shoulder and
Just love my past with me, instead of me having to forget and
Be all reconciled.
In my time here I thought I had met someone like that.
The truth is, I did, more than once, but times change and at the
Moment I seem stuck in reality too firmly for my liking!
Come as you are
Posted:Feb 8, 2012 1:16 pm
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2012 9:59 am

A while back, on one of the extremely rare occasions when I was considering actually meeting someone, I remember saying "should I dress as Dreamer?" I meant new jeans, blue R&M Williams shirt, "time traveller's wife" in front of face, lol.

I was just thinking, if I was meeting any of you guys, how many of you would dress as per your main user pic? I mean, it would make it a lot easier to recognize each other wouldn’t it?

It would certainly be fun meeting cinderbrook, syndarella and nutmegsrevenge if they came as their pictures!, And I’ve always wanted to rub up against mostwantonwench in that red bodice, or see that dress swirl around zandi’s legs!

I expect marysia probably wouldn’t find it too difficult, Sassi would be okay as long as it was cold, and it would be easy enough for F4win and Wildfire, though perhaps a little bit risque for a riverside coffee shop. I suppose hippiechick would be just about okay as long as there was no wind to blow her hair around.

Tough call for peterwasted though.

So what clothes would you put on, (or take off) if we were meeting
Voyeuristic Five Hundred
Posted:Feb 3, 2012 9:12 am
Last Updated:Feb 9, 2012 3:44 am

Some blogs are cerebral, others visceral, but all contain glimpses, albeit sometimes as if through frosted glass, of something real about their writers. And at their best, they can open up a window to the deepest, most super-heated desires we have. In my previous 499 posts, I have occasionally drawn back the curtain on my own window, and I will be doing so again later on in this post, so in time-honoured fashion, you may if you wish, scroll down to the sexy bit.

This is my 500th post. At first I wasn't sure what I wanted to write. I wasn't going to make a big thing of it. I mean I know people do – it seems to be a bit of a tradition to write something special for a landmark post. And then, like the end of a holiday, the 500th rushed towards me before I was ready for it. And now that it is here, maybe I realise why people like to mark such occasions with a special post. For a reason I can’t completely put my finger on, it is important to me.

You people are important to me.

This place is important to me.

I come here, and you, who – having reasons of your own to want to expose something of yourselves to us – you include me in what is like a sort of sex-fascinated family. And knowing a little about our joint fixation with sex, I thought I would let my mind wander a little, and try to find some words to stretch across the other 499 posts and tie them all together. And maybe you would come with me, because I have a strange fantasy which just might do that for us…..

We were standing together in the dark, looking out of the window of the bedroom at the back of my house, where there are no street lights and the sky is very dark.

"I just love looking at the stars," you said. "The night sky is so amazing. I often wonder what the people on the other worlds are doing."

We could see Jupiter, and through my binoculars, you could sometimes see the four faint dots of the giant planet's own moons. I scanned the rest of the sky. Although it was freezing outside, it was warm in the room, and tingle of excitement ran through me as I felt you lean a little closer to me. Did that mean what I was hoping it might mean? I wondered. Suddenly a light caught my eye closer to the horizon. Away across the allotment fields a lamp lit up a bedroom window. A young woman stood bathed in the yellow light, and without thinking I trained my binoculars on her. Oblivious to my eyes, she walked to and fro across the room, taking off her shoes and jacket before suddenly pulling her sweater up over her head to reveal firm, well shaped breasts, bra-less underneath.
"You naughty boy," I heard you breathe next to me. "Give us a look."
Without a word I passed you my spare binoculars, not taking my eyes off her for a moment. She was standing at an open wardrobe, presumably choosing an outfit for the evening. I thought it would only be a moment before her beautiful form was covered again. But then a shadow flickered across the room and a man's figure entered. She half turned to him, and in a moment he had gathered her up in his arms and was kissing her.
"Oh wow," you said.

In their room the bed was on the far wall, facing the window, and he pushed her down onto it, unbuckling his belt at the same time. It was like watching a movie, except this was real. I half expected you to be embarrassed and stop me looking, or at least to walk out, but instead you sat down on the bed, resting your elbows on your knees to steady the lenses. Knowing you as I do, I shouldn't have been surprised. The man had his shirt off now; you could see the muscles of his back tense and ripple as he held her. Her arms caressed gently down the sides of his body, then pushed down his jeans. I saw one of her hands reach between them, and then she threw her head back and I knew he was thrusting in deep. Her skirt was around her waist, and her long legs wrapped round him. Occasionally we caught glimpses of her face and wild hair, and her pretty breasts whenever his lips uncovered them long enough for us to look. We watched in silence as he fucked her. Slowly but firmly at first, then working up to a crescendo before he tensed and lay still. She was still caressing his back.

I was still watching when I heard you put your binoculars down on the window sill. I turned to look at you.Your face looked serious in the dim light, but still you didn't say anything. Then I felt your hands on my chest, pushing me down onto the bed. You pulled off my shirt and began to kiss me, first on the lips, then biting at my nipples; soothing their hard ache, but making them strain for more too. You grasped the hem of your sweater just like the woman across the way had, pulling it over your head in the same, gorgeously sexy way. Except your breasts were so much more real, available to all my senses. I could smell your warm skin, I could feel the heat from your body, and, leaning forward, I could feel the firm, puckering tips of your nipples as I closed my lips on them and began to suck and nibble.

Before I really knew it, your legs were either side of me, and in a glorious moment you had pulled free my cock, and buried it in the warmth of your quim, shifting your hips and groaning as I sank into you. Your hips began to rock and I could feel you grinding your clit against me as you lay forward to kiss me again. But you were slowly taking your time, savouring every moment. The moon began to rise above the rooftops opposite - low down but shining straight towards us. It lit your beautiful profile perfectly as you did what I had so often dreamed of: taking out your voyeuristic lust on my all too willing body. At last, after what seemed an hour of restrained but quickly building passion, you straightened your back and arms, put your hands on my shoulders, threw back your head and began to fuck hard. Shuddering waves ripped through you, and you were gasping out my name – the first words you had said since we touched. The vision of your hardened nipples, silhouetted in the moonlight sent me over the edge. I sat up with you, pulled myself closer still, and held you tight against me. A tingling wave of impending orgasm ran through me like an electric charge. It built until at last it broke open, pouring home my come in heaving spasms deep inside you. You milked me, and then lay against me, spent, brushing your hair out of your eyes. Sweat glistened on your back in the moonlight.

"Wow, that was incredible," I told you.
"Mmmmhmmm," you smiled. "Didn't you know how susceptible I am to a good floor show?" I kissed you and turned my head aside, looking back at the room across the field in gratitude to the couple we had spied on. Their window was dark. And then, fleetingly, in the faintest light bouncing back in from the frosty fields between us, I thought I saw a glint of light. I strained my eyes and could just make out the woman's face. Her arms were bent and her hands held up to her eyes. She lowered her arms, and again I saw a glint. It was the reflection from a pair of binocular lenses.
Tongue Studs - For Sex or for Decoration?
Posted:Jan 9, 2012 9:31 am
Last Updated:Jan 30, 2012 5:09 am

A small query for you. I may have asked this before, I'm not sure. I certainly haven't ever had a fully satisfactory answer. I know at least one of you has studs and so should be able to enlighten me!

Are tongue studs just decorative or do they perform a special function during oral sex?

I feel I should be experienced enough to know the answer, but the fact is studs were rare during the time when I was younger and was having more numerous sexual partners, so I have never found out what difference they make first hand so to speak.

I have noticed however that women who have them also tend to have a sort of naughty aura about them. Is this a coincidence? Or just my inventive imagination?

I was in a shop in my home town recently and the sales assistant, who was quite sexy, had a tongue stud. I was dying to ask her, "Is that stud merely decorative, or does it perform some other function?" but I would have offended the person I was with so I refrained. (Good excuse, lol. )

What might she have answered?
Expecting a Monster Ejaculation
Posted:Jan 4, 2012 11:21 am
Last Updated:Jan 30, 2012 5:08 am

Okay so this is what happened. As some of you know, I haven't had an in-the-flesh sexual partner for quite some time, but company over the holidays often prevents me from self-satisfying my not inconsiderable urges. This Christmas, I caught the 'flu over the holiday and I haven't been home alone for over two weeks until today. What with the sore throat, no energy and aching limbs I didn't feel much like it anyway. (Honestly I feel like I have been wrestling elephants and one of them trod on my legs. )

Anyway, I am now beginning to feel the stirrings of lust.

Girls, just so you know, "Blue Balls" is a complete myth, at least as far as I am concerned. I mean I have definitely never had any testicular ache or discolouration as result of prolonged abstinence, and as you know, I have had some experience in that area. So never let any guy con you into thinking he needs you for some kind of medically imperative relief. (You girls are not teenagers anymore, so you know this anyway. )

(Unless of course there are any teenagers reading, in which case, HELP – get round here quick: I have terrible Blue Ball and I need you here right NOW. )

But the falsity of blue ball does not mean that the both the quantity and intensity of male ejaculation do not both build up appreciably if not released at regular intervals. They do. And in my case I also find a rather impish, Dreamer-centric attitude ruling all my thoughts, and a naughty grin creeping onto my face. And whenever this happens to me I always feel like it seems a shame to waste it. It would be nice to have the chance to lie down with a warm curvy female body wrapped all round me in excited anticipation of getting a good hot globbing, but that seems unlikely just at the moment. In the past I might have hoped to have Future Girl, on line if not in person, to share or even prolong the moment with, but in her absence I find myself thinking that maybe I at least need someone to give me a few sexy thoughts to work with so I can make the most of it. Either that or the girl in the Celtic Sheepskin catalogue.

So if you find yourself with any sexy thoughts to spare, post them here; maybe I can wait a little longer if you can make it worth it………
A Special Time
Posted:Dec 21, 2011 6:15 am
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2013 5:02 am

Every people in the world has at least one day in the year which they set aside as a celebration of the central tenets of their culture. Anyone who has followed my blog for a while will know that I absolutely love Christmas. I have nothing against the people who don't look forward to it and find this time of year a bit of a chore, but I always get excited about having a few days off and spending time with people I love. I love to see all the presents under the tree waiting to be opened and all the preparation, buying food for the Christmas dinner and making sure there are treats for everyone.

But last week I was listening to the radio on my way somewhere when they played the Black Eyed Peas "Where is the love." I know it isn't a Christmas song, but it reminded me that not everyone has fun at Christmas, or any other time of year for that matter, and of how lucky I am to have been born to parents who would love me, educate me, and give me the kind of start in life which would mean I would be unlikely ever to have to go through the kind of hardship that would prompt me to ask of the world "Where is the love?"

It made me want to make even more of Christmas this year, because I realised that there are a lot of people who are just as lucky as me, but somehow still fall into the trap of not always remembering to show the love. It is easy to get stuck in a world of problems and routines and forget how great it feels to just open your heart and give. Whatever you normally do at this time of year, whatever you think Christmas should be, make sure this year you really make the most of it.

And now as always I want to send special messages to all of you who have shared my hopes and dreams this year – you all feel like part of my family now.

ColoradoRose – You know how much you mean to me. I love that you still sometimes come and check in here to see what I have been writing, and I hope this year brings wonderful happiness into your life. Meeting you here was one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

Amakamaria – You have been such a good friend. It was good to see you blogging again this year and with such exciting subject matter too. I hope that is still going well for you and we should have a big catch up some time in the New Year.

Zandigal – Wishing you a very Merry Christmas and I hope all the changes turn out to be good ones. It’s so good to be back in touch.

MostWantonWench – I miss seeing your questions and thoughts on your blog, but I know it has been a topsy-turvy second half of the year for you and you haven’t had any time. Maybe we'll see more of you here next year, but in the meantime I really hope you manage to have a nice relaxing Christmas. Thank you for always being there for me.

Prairie Girl – I don’t know if you are reading this, but you might be and if so I wanted to say how glad I am that we managed to stay friends, and it always makes me smile when I hear from you.

Sassicat – my longest standing blog friend. I can't believe that you are still here, still reading! But knowing that you are is always one of the best things about signing in. Keep well my friend, negotiate the holiday without mishap, and I hope the family all behave!

F4Win – Another friend who I know will always be here. Thank you for your friendship and support as always. I know you love Christmas, so raise a small glass to Dreamer some time in between cooking up all kinds of wonderful recipes this year.

Mmss – It has been interesting getting to know you, but there is still so much you keep hidden! I hope the next entry on your blog will tell of happiness and success, but if there are rocky times ahead I will be here to listen.

Marysia – All you ever do is make me feel good about myself and tell me how much you like reading my blog. I am so glad to have such a nice easy-going friend here.

Wantitindeep – Sometimes you challenge me a bit more than your sister, but always in the best way, and it is comforting to know you live only just down the road, even if we haven’t ever met! I hope it is nice and snug in your little work cabin this Christmas.

Kizza – So we haven't seen much of each other this year, but whenever I do check in on your blog I always either smile, or feel the deepest empathy for your life. Wishing you well for the New Year.

Hippiechick – It was great to find you back and blogging this year. You always cut straight to the important part of any post I write and I really value your insight. I hope things get better again for you soon. You always have had a positive mental attitude and a determination to make the best of life, and you deserve for things to go your way.

Wildfire always there with a supportive comment, or a story about Big to make me smile.

PeterWasted You started out by calling me a fuckwit, which I thought was a strange way to try to make friends, lol, but I'm glad you keep coming by and I am always interested by what you have to say.

Cinderbrook – I am only just getting to know you, but finding your blog has made it more fun to be here, and that is always welcome. I’m hoping to see more of you in the New Year, and I might even get round to writing some blog posts for you to read!

Nikla – I have been inspired and amazed by your determination, and I find that it matters to me that you manage to make what you hope out of your life. Keep going and get there.

Stormyroses, tigger, syndarella, – blogging is much more fun knowing you might be reading, and I hope to get to know all of you better this year.

dsin2, freeholderone, nutmegsrevenge, – I don't really know much about you guys, but I am always pleased to see your names on my recent visitors list.

Skierchick – Your one post this year was to put up a stars and stripes swim-suit shot on independence day and tell everyone it always reminds you of me. I was so flattered, but I hope you come back and blog some more soon, your questions were always the best.

There have also been quite a few goodbyes this year, but among them I really miss Cafsexnic, Bubbles and Red – reading the blogs just isn’t the same without their thought provoking posts. 24_WI_Girl; gone but not easily forgotten – such a sexy attitude to life and what fun we had hanging out in the Chicagoland chat room and teasing all the boys who wanted you.

And Future Girl. I know you will be reading this, sometime, from somewhere. Maybe more than once, lol. On Boxing Day, when I don’t feel like eating much else, maybe the thought of you as a bacon sandwich, naked, greasy and dripping with ketchup, squeezed between two giant slices of crusty bread and some crisp lettuce will pop into my head. Mmmmmmm. You are lovely.
Cock Attack!
Posted:Dec 6, 2011 5:33 am
Last Updated:Dec 14, 2011 2:42 am

Inspiration for this post comes from entirely the wrong kind of incident.

It's been a busy morning working hard, and after drinking far too much tea to keep me going I rushed upstairs to the bathroom, desperate for a piss. I popped the buttons on my jeans and lobbed out my cock, unleashing a massive, and welcome, jet into the bowl. At that point things took an unexpectedly nasty turn. An equally massive but much less welcome wasp flew up from the window-sill seemingly on a collision course with Mount Dreamer.

Many of you will know I have a real hatred of wasps, bordering on an actual phobia. And for some reason, every spring and every autumn one or two really big ones seem to hide out somewhere in the recesses of my house and then come to life when the weather warms, or in this case, I suspect when the heating comes on.

Anyway, at that precise moment I didn't really care where the black and orange bastard had come from: I just freaked.

"Woahhhg!" I said.

I jerked backwards away from the bowl and piss went everywhere. Some of it went up the window blind (I've been meaning to get a new one for ages, ) but the wasp went down in the bath, possibly winged by a lucky shot. So, showing great nerve and presence of mind, I mercilessly pissed it into the plug hole and then crushed it to death with a copy of Trout and Salmon I happened to have handy. Rare sport, this wasp shooting.

After I had calmed down a bit and stopped shaking I found there was a major clean up operation needed. But that was a small price to pay for avoiding getting stung right in the wrong place. All that was over an hour ago and I still feel like a need a drink.
Just Working
Posted:Nov 29, 2011 3:44 am
Last Updated:Dec 20, 2012 2:11 pm

Hi everyone. You might have noticed I haven't been around much. Just busy, working, getting on with stuff, and not having much to write about or feeling like writing very much. I'm okay though, mostly.

I'll be back with something interesting sometime I suppose. In the meantime maybe you can leave thought provoking comments, or just talk amongst yourselves. Whatever; have a good time, but don't go away too far.

The Psychology of Flirting
Posted:Nov 18, 2011 7:11 am
Last Updated:Dec 8, 2011 2:25 am

In an earlier post I mentioned The Incident with the Five Schoolgirls, and I was thinking of writing it up, when I realised that as well as being an amusingly typical Dreamer story, it is also a classic example of an interesting aspect of the psychology of flirting. Plus it also ties in neatly with my last post.

It happened the day I spent in London with Future Girl. We went to see an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. I was in the main lobby outside the ladies room waiting for FG to come out, and I noticed five schoolgirls hanging around. One was quite pretty, the others were non-descript, but not unattractive, though all too young for me to take them seriously. But they were a classic case of what Barney Stinson from "How I met your Mother" calls "The Cheerleader Effect." (A woman who might not be particularly attractive on her own, seems much more desirable when part of a cohesive group. I expect there is a female equivalent – the Chippendale Effect or something. )

Anyway, just as I was remarking on this to myself, I heard one of them say "Come on, I'm bored, let's go to Costa's."
Well, I couldn't let that go.
"You can't be bored at the National Portrait Gallery," I told them, incredulously. They turned to look at who this new authority figure was haranguing them. I asked them if they were on a school trip, and they said yes, so I said,
"Well that's why then – we are all programmed to find organised school trips boring - but think of it this way: you're getting time off school to see a brilliant exhibition that I chose to pay to see." They were all looking at me as if I was giving a lecture.
"Have any of you seen the film "Ferris Beuller's day off?" I asked.
There was a general negative murmur.
"Well there is a part in it where one of the characters gets totally fixated on a painting in front of him, and the camera cuts back and forth between him and the picture, and it's clear that he’s being completely drawn into the painting. It's one of my favourite movie scenes. So now whenever I go to a gallery, I always let myself get absorbed by the pictures like that. You should go back in and try it with these portraits and really make the most of your time here."
I was quite surprised to find that by now they were all in a little semi circle, smiling, looking at my eyes and hanging on my every word. At this point FG walked up.
"I should have known," she said laughing, "I can't leave you alone for a second,"
"What?!" I defended myself. "We were just talking about making the most of the exhibition."
The girls were saying goodbye and wandering off, and FG playfully teased me about how they were all making the most of me rather more than the exhibition.
"That was such a Dreamer moment," she said, "they were all enthralled, and you were completely flirting with them." She was really enjoying it.

And of course that was the point. Okay, we had spent the day trying hard not to be flirting with each other, (or at least she had, lol ) but of course she loves seeing Dreamer like that. And why not? It is what makes me him. When you have a close bond with someone, when you are sure about what you mean to each other, there is something very attractive about seeing them flirt with other people. You get to keep seeing what attracted you to them in the first place, in a way that, once you are past that stage, you can't always repeat in your own relationship. Especially not in our case, since we weren't meant to be overstepping that line. And it keeps you alive inside, reminds you of how you really are. It can be so liberating to know you are allowed to flirt, and I probably would not have been so confident if I hadn't known FG was there as my back up, and would always want me to be like that.

I had a conversation with Zandigal once (where is she by the way????? ) about how sexy it is to be at a party and watch your partner flirting with other people, knowing that you were going to be going home with them at the end of the night. The Lioness was a gem like that. I loved to watch her talking to guys. She could give you a glance that looked almost innocent, but make you feel like she was rubbing her thumb over your cock at the same time. Seeing her give guys that look, when I knew that at the same time she was planning what she was going to do with me when we got home was one of the best experiences I have ever had. When you have that bond you can relax and watch your partner at work, because you know that even if they feel attracted to someone else, they want you more, and they are going to choose you.

Of course there is a down side to this. Not only is it somehow dispiriting to be made to feel that you shouldn't flirt, but also it can then become something you daren’t let yourself do, particularly in front of your partner. I have had the experience of feeling I mustn't because the person I was with would feel insecure. And a lot of the time I know that feeling could be just as likely to come from my fears as from her insecurity. If I know I might actually be tempted, then I feel more restricted because there is less of a safety net.

I don't like that feeling. I have said before, that someone who actually wants me to be interested in other people, is much more likely to get me all to herself.

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