bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings

Monday, September 15, 2003
Well, last night i did not go out to my usual and attempt to have sex. I did have the sudden urge, at 1:30 a.m., to put air in the back tire of my bike, and oil all the moving parts. Having done that, I hopped on the bike and rode around for awhile. Sexclub closes at 2 a.m. on Sundays, so that wasn't an option. The Cock, well, I thought about it, rode past it and saw a few handsome men outside, but kept pedaling past. The Phoenix - rode past slowly, looked in the window to see about 6 guys inside, kept going. Stuyvesant Park - all locked up at that hour, so that wasn't an option. Heading back south on 2nd Avenue, Dick's Bar looked just as awful as usual. When I got to 4th street, only a few yards from House of Regrets, I turned left and away from it, knowing I wasn't in the mood for all that late night pacing and listening to the loud sounds of HBO or Showtime that they play on the big screen.

Back home, I quickly settled into obscene snacking - chips, ice cream, whatever I could stuff into my face - then drifted off to sleep. The dream took place in the sexclub, and while I don't remember the particulars of the actual sex, I remember being quite satisfied. The most vivid part of my memory was as we were "finishing up" ("yeah, boy, on my face, c'mon - all over my beard, that's it!"), these two women walked into the room, fully clothed, marching past various men in various sexacts, loudly talking. "I think we'd have to knock down this wall, and perhaps see if we can re-route the plumbing through here...." one of them was saying as she stepped over two guys 69-ing on the floor. They were completely oblivious to their surroundings, very business-like, and suddenly I realized they were buying the building and the sexclub would soon be gone!

No, I didn't wake up in a sweat or anything, but I found it funny that I've having evil-real-estate-agent dreams in the middle of a rare sex dream. The funny thing is, after the two women left the room, and their voices drifted away, me and whoever-I-had-sex-with stayed put, on a sticky vinyl couch, and just gently stroked each other's bodies as we both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.