Suggestive but mostly work-safe content after the jump…

I had a sex dream last night about a friend that I don’t typically think of sexually (and that statement in and of itself narrows it down more than you might think). Not only that, but a mass of my other friends were having incongruous sex in the background. By incongruous, I mean, they were having sex that does not fit their sexual orientation and/or preferences. It was all in this hotel room. We were on vacation somewhere near a beach, with a small movie theatre attached to the hotel, and we were sneaking into this room. The friend, who shall henceforth be designated “Z” in this post to avoid awkward phrasings, had invited me to this sex room, and it quite upset the others, because I guess it was some sort of “Rule 1: You don’t talk about the sex room. Rule 2: You DON’T TALK ABOUT THE SEX ROOM.” sort of thing. First, we were spooning, which I guess is a result of how I was somewhat spooning the couch (eew, considering what happens later, I hope I didn’t deflower my couch…I was wearing pajama pants at least). Then, the other “couple” on the bed finished each other off in a spectacular fashion, and then we started going at it, and it was very good.

Afterward though, it was very awkward because we had to keep this secret, and Z was/is involved with someone else…plus there’s the whole Rule 1/Rule 2 thing. But, we had the hots for each other and we kept sneaking off to the room. (I blame The Office‘s premiere ep for that, now that I think about it…I watched it right before bed.)

Well, I woke up from my Z dream when Scott came to kiss me goodbye before he left for work. I told him about the dream and its subject (including the identity of Z and some of the other people who had cameo appearances), and he laughed at the oddity of it. Then, I drifted back off to sleep for another hour or so, and I dreamt that I was telling Z, for real, in my house, about the dream…and I was telling Z that I never thought of him that way. Z said something like, “That’s too bad.” Z then kissed me viciously, tore our clothes off, and did me soundly right on the kitchen table.

Yeah, dream Z is kind of hot. Not that real-life Z isn’t a bit of a hottie in my book already, but he managed to fall into that rare-for-me niche of being untouchable, even in fantasy…at least until now.

I guess the moral of this story is that I’m clearly hard up for some lovin’…and easily influenced by whatever I see or hear right before I go to sleep. Oh, and I wonder how many people who read this think that they’re Z.