Secret Dream Nipples

I had a dream about a woman with 4 nipples in a row, on each boob. My latest Instagram interests have been about plastic surgery so the dream ended with the lady’s quads ending up as singles. The quad-nipples were super hot and I woke up turned on, searching for my vibrator. The cat got wind of my movement and had other plans. The purred cuteness and cuddles temporarily distracted me.

Back to the nipples. Once I remembered them, I started to consider what they meant. Do they have to mean something? No. Am I looking for them to mean something? Perhaps.

First step, masturbation.

…

Second step, charge vibrator battery. That was a close one.

Third, Google what nipples mean in a dream. Here goes… “Nipple dream draws attention to danger, evil or death. Someone is taking advantage of your misfortune. You need to exemplify some of your qualities. The dream is an omen for your passiveness in a situation. Your emotions have literally reached the boiling point.”.

Why did I do that? What’s next? Ask my best friend? They’ll just tell me I’m horny. They’d probably be right. Maybe I’m looking for something freaky. I’m not usually that freaky, relatively speaking.

Sex is a journey, am I right? I’ve spoken about having a few partners. With those partners was sex. Some of that sex was really good. Most of that sex was just like life - a series of failures and opportunities for improvement. I feel differently about sex these days. I don’t really miss it or crave it because I expect most people aren’t very good at it.

I like watching porn - it reminds me how awkward sex really is. Even if it’s made to be professional, it’s weird. Oh look a complete stranger, let me just put my tongue in their butt without any prior knowledge of their medical history. I’ve been in relationships that lasted several years and even that sex was awkward. You get to that point and you’re just cutting to the chase. I don’t really miss that stage either. However, it was less fuss, less maintenance, less hair removal stress.

Now I’m starting to wonder if I even want sex? I miss tenderness, I miss intimacy. I don’t miss being rammed by a cock, trying to communicate that I’m in pain and not kill the mood. I have never been able to figure out how he doesn’t know that he’s physically hurting you. I know there’s a rhythm which can be difficult to achieve and maintain, then there’s the position to find, etc. The point is, none of that matters if one doesn’t eventually hear the special secret pleasure sound from the person who holds your most intimate body part in theirs.

I’m not saying I’m the queen of figuring it out. I have failed many times at trying to achieve orgasmic perfection. For example, hand jobs completely betray me. You can take your hand jobs and you can go fuck yourself, I’m not doing them. I have the hands the size of a kindergartner. As I’ve aged, my hands have gotten spindlier, knottier and less soft. They’re great for working out tiny knots, needlepoint, precision. You want your cock handled? Don’t point it my way.

You know that moment after good sex? You both fall away from each other for a moment and then reconnect to kiss? The kiss is kind of cool because you’ve both been breathing so heavily that your tongue is cold? The taste is unique to after sex, I couldn’t describe it if I tried. I love that kiss. It’s my favorite part about having sex. It’s like genuine gratitude expressed with your faces meeting and it tastes so sweet.

I do miss it. Maybe the quad-nippled dream lady was there to remind me that I’m bit of a sick fuck and that I’m a sexual being who needs to be touched from time to time. For now, it’ll just have to be my vibrator and my vivid imagination.