DREAM COME BACK

It was time for me to dream again, to be in a place I had never been to except in my beautiful dream that was too real to be fake, and too mystical to be reality. For my own reality was made up of lies, games, fakery, a revolving door that never closed, and an unfinished dream that I was long overdue to have.

For some crazy reason, I began to analize my apartment by standing in the middle of my living room, and seeing how quiet and peaceful this place could be when I wanted it to be. It was simple and to the point, and I liked it that way. With peaceful simplicity, far from what goes on in there, you would never think it was a haven for visitors, a place for them to pay and play, a palace for short lived dreams that came true, then end within hours from their beginning. So what was so bad that I needed to get back to my dream?






I would look around in apt. 9, and gaze at it's every being. Slowly turning and looking at every piece of everything there. The furniture, the t.v., the light pinkish walls, and the few pictures that hung on them. All I could see was black and white and and I liked it that way. My life wasn't colorful, it was anything but, although most anyone would think just the opposite. I have a yearn for what I do, and I as yet can't figure out why I'm ok with it. So I continue to look all around me, liking what I see, and yet with what I allow to go on inside here, who I allow to enter, it was yet a haven for me as well as my visitors that felt comforting with no one there but myself. All alone. Plain and simple. At that very moment, there were no lies being told, no pretending, no open door, just me with peace that had come over me. Yet I needed my dream back. It was rarely in black and white. It was full of color that enchanted me, a world so different from mine that I needed at this very moment. So again I ask myself, if I was ok with my life and what I do, then what's the need for this dream? Perhaps an excape? But from what?

DOUBTING MYSELF

With my horrible headache gone and into a new day, I began to ponder if the night of fun and partying had really existed. Was it just a fantasy or a reality that took place right here in apt 9 nine.

As I entered my shower, I began scrubbing my body to rid the paint that was indeed definitely on me. Did I paint myself? No way. Did my 'phantom' lover come in and paint my nude body with intricacy that was a work of art to behold? All I wanted to do was to get as much off as I could. I scrubbed my round soft breast's, feeling my body down to my private parts much to my own pleasure. I felt the paint run down my thighs, glad that it was becoming a thing of the past. And so was Dan.

As I was getting dressed, the phone rang. My heart skipped a beat when I heard that familiar voice. My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath, not thinking he would call. It was Dan! He wanted to come over and talk with me, but the first thing out of my mouth was that today wouldn't be a good day. Today, tomorrow, next week, any day at that very moment would not have been good. I wanted to see him again, but thought we both should wait a while until he returned, and he agreed to call me back later that night. I just stood there, knowing I had to focus on something so totally different at that very moment, as I wouldn't be alone for very long. I was glad it at least ended with him wanting to call me back later in the evening.

So there was this strange contraption decorating my table, and with my apartment lit in a red light, it looked like some freak show. I have all sorts of toys, after all, I'm a party girl, and I love to play games. All sort's of games. And while the game is on, I hear sorted secrets that have become a part of what happens in apt. 9. Dressing for the part, I had to focus on my next visitor due to come over shortly.

The idea of thinking for one minute if my party had been real or not was troubling to me. Was I in denial over a night of exotic pleasures that I didn't want to admit to? Why not? I had enjoyed whatever I wanted to, and this time wasn't any different. Denying what you like, is denying yourself, and I never denied anything I wanted to do, even if it was strange and bizarre.

I went into my bedroom, and dressed in stiletto's and dark nylons. I looked at myself in the mirror with approval. My guest who had just arrived thought the same. We talked for a short while, and he told me he loved how I looked. I told him it was just for him, but that couldn't be farthest from the truth. He set the pace, not knowing what was about to happen. He looked at the 'hand' and handcuff dangling from the small table, and thought that was a good place to start. It was.

A NIGHT DRIVE

The evening before was crazy. But did this night really take place, or was it just all in my head? I was beginning to doubt myself.

I got up and got dressed. I went for a ride in my car to clear my head. I just drove around and again told myself to get a grip, that I hadn't been like this for a good long while, and it wasn't conducive to my lifestyle. If I wanted to mope all day long about one man, then perhaps I should get a 9 to 5 type of job like most everyone else does in life. But when I chose to abandon all that nonsense, all the bullshit that comes with the hope of just one man in your life that dominates your every thought, I knew this wasn't for me. So I kept on driving and kept on thinking that things are ok and all is well.

I stopped to get something to eat, then returned to my apartment to get a good nights sleep and everything would return to normal. I won't let a stranger rule my feelings, even if he should ever return or not. I loved to play, and playing at keeping secrets excited me. I knew I would hear another, and I couldn't wait. I was like the 'mother Teresa' of hearing and keeping those secrets, secrets that men would tell me and it fueled my need to hear more.

When I got into bed, I was still feeling a bit woozy, so I laid there, getting comfortable in my soft sheets that draped around me, and hoped maybe my dream of my foreign journey would come back. I heard a slight knock at my door, but ignored it as I had been doing. If I should get a visitor tomorrow, that would be fine, but right now was the time to sleep and to welcome torrow.

A RAINY DAY IN NEW ORLEANS

The incident with Dan was just another set back to deal with. I never thought it would end like this. My delusional visions of ridiculous thoughts of him and I were really in the way of the reality of things. Yet I never thought it would end the way it did. Soon after I threw Dan out of my apartment, and asked him to never return again, it began to rain. The day was gloomy, with gray clouds, and now very wet. Yet when I looked out to the street from my apartment window, it had a peaceful look to it, very scenic, very pretty and very sad.





I rarely get sad, but today was one of those days. My dream of being in a distant land, investigating all that was foreign to me, allowing me to indulge in what seemed to be secret alley ways that let to somewhere, to doors that led to a home, windows to look out from once inside. I wanted to go back to my dream, if only I could. I thought of Dan, and still wondered why he got to me like he did. Why him? I convinced myself he was like all the rest, and would be better off not to deal with a situation that would never work in the first place.

In my usual laid back disposition, I found myself just hanging out, nursing my headache, and still dealing with my painted body. This crap can stay on for days, so I didn't think much of it, and just chilled. And cried. From the wild night before, and the shower fuck with Dan, I had to calm down from it all, and made myself some hot tea.

The day proceeded to carry on, and the evening wasn't too much better. Before I could get over my slump, I would have to go through it, and it didn't feel very good. I thought about going on a vacation, and a friend of mine had not too long ago asked to take me to the Bahamas. Maybe that would be the thing to do. In a mean time, I was miserable.

The rain came poring down, but it didn't seem to stop my visitors from coming over. I'm sure they were surprised my door was locked, and I just ignored their arrival. Soon they would leave and the sound of silence was golden to my ears. Even with my head hurting, I enjoyed the sound of the rain hitting the cement streets like a ton of bricks. As I looked out from my window again, the street view was desolate, with it's soaking wet sidewalks and the illumination of gray all around. The street lights didn't have it's usual and somewhat golden hue. It was just a gloomy gray evening.

I turned the television on, hardly with any sound, and there I saw a woman's face taking up the entire screen. It looked strange and wondered what it meant, but I didn't want to hear anything, so the visual alone was going to have to do. The images seemed strange, like two faces in one. The visual effects intrigued me, and whatever the story line was became useless, just figures on the screen were good enough. It looked like the woman was in dispare, and I related. Soon I thought to myself, a good secret would be an interesting cure, and before I knew it, I was told one.

As I reminisced of the night before, I knew I would never invite Dan to something like that. How he found out puzzled me, but bad news travels fast, and so he knew. I could always disguise it, but then why should I? Right? What do YOU think? It was just a party and some parties get carried away. I knew if I wanted to, I could probably come up with something convincing, but he wasn't coming back anyway so it didn't matter. Dan was still a stranger to me, just like the rest, and maybe if I continue to repeat myself with the same words, I could possibly believe the hype I was saying, although true to some extent. Right now I just wanted my headache and the paint on my body to go away. After the first initial scrub, my headache was foremost on my list to rid, so I tried to sleep it off.

RUDE AWAKENING

It's the ending where I wake up, full of body paint, groggy with sadness and tiredness. I want to return to the narrow alley ways I walked through. I wanted to once again raise my glass of wine and make a toast with the people at the restaurant. To the artist to pose for him, and to the handsome young man I never got to know. I break out in a cold sweat and immediately sit up in bed, half dazed about the dream I just had. I walk slowly into my cold bathroom and turn on hot water to get myself out of this stupor.

I could barley walk with a horrific headache, when someone enters my apartment. I shout out for them to get out, when I lift my head up, and I see Dan starring at me, wondering what freight train had just run over me. I told him he needed to knock, then told me one else needed to! I looked at him shocked and dismayed.

'So, you're', ..stopping his next word that was about to come out of his mouth. Yeah, 'I'm...about to take a shower and I need to be left alone', was my reply. He told me I looked like I had one hell of a time, and the paint all over my body looked terribly sexy. He said he was upset he wasn't invited to the mayhem from the night before. I told him next time, and that I would call him when I was feeling better. I then asked him leave.

I got into the shower, grateful for the warm water drenching me with relief. I foamed up wanting to rinse off as fast as I could when Dan suddenly reappears, nude, entering my shower. He picks me up and leans me against the corner of the cold tile wall, spreads my legs apart, wrapping them around his hips and fucks me. I wrapped my arms around him, crying with every thrust he gives me. I dig my nails into his back and scream loudly when I come. His moan turns into a grunting sound as the water is beating off his back from the forceful shower spray.

He then sits on the shower floor, sitting there with his hands to his face. As I try to pass him, he grabs me and drags me into the bedroom, only to blindfold me and ties me to the bed in an upright position. This doesn't seem to be Dan. He turned into a crazy man, wanting revenge.

I told him he was acting out of character, that all this was stupid, still sobbing from when we were in the shower. I told him if he wanted to play rough, this wasn't the time. I screamed at him to take the blindfold off me and to untie me and he did. I then told him to get out and to never come back.

WALKING WITH ANGELS

I'm drifting off into a land I've only seen in books and magazines, on poster boards and travel brochures. Into the slumber I'm now drifting into, I enter in a strange and beautiful place I never want to leave.

I enter a long narrow alley way, somewhere foreign to me, that's entrancing and melodic. I hear voices in my head, guiding me where to go, and so I keep walking into quaint narrow alley ways that seem as if I had once lived there long ago in another time. The voices are singing to me, almost with a sacred tone to it, and I keep on walking. They are guiding my every step.

There in the far distance where there are many door ways, I see a man with dark hair, a handsome man who is trying to seduce me. For whatever the strange reason may be, I resist him. I walk forward, only to see the same man again in other doorways, asking me why I don't want to be with him. I tell I do, but that I can't. And so I keep on walking, and I keep hearing these beautiful almost angelic like voices singing in my head, a sound like no other sound I have ever heard. It's so calming, so reassuring, so real and true, like a loving mother giving you the love and security you can bet your life on.

So what is this? Where am I? I now see an elderly man with a Venetian style hat on, and he's an artist. I see him at his doorway, and he invites me in to see his art work. I go inside, and I see these beautiful works of art, skillfully done, that only a master could have accomplished. I tell him I am very taken back by his work, and I see nudes in beautiful colors on easles, almost like a cross between a fusion of charcoal and oil. They are truly magnificent. He asks me to pose for him but I decline. He then takes me in to show me the other part of his home, a parlor, and it's like an Italian villa, but smaller, yet just as spectacular with a quaint and bohemian style. I love this place, a place I would like to live in, but I know I must leave and return to my walk.

I see other doorways, and ruins only European countries have, and I wish I could stay here. Within me, I know I would have to leave, something I don't want to do. It's like a journey, a mission that I'm to be on, and so my walk continues. Just a slight bit ahead, there's a restaurant, and people are in inside, talking, drinking some wine in simple but pretty glasses, toasting good cheers to each other, and feeling very good with each other. It's a strange thing, as not many people are eating. They are consumed with talking with each other and clinging their glasses together. When they see me, some hold their glass up to me, and ask me if I would like some wine. I have some, then I hold up my glass of wine and toast with them.

I am walking out, thanking them. I see the handsome man again, asking me why I don't like him. I tell him I do like him, but I have to continue my walk. He tells me he will meet me further up, and I agree. As clear and vivid as it all is, it has a smoky and unclear view. I can see, yet I can't see their faces that clearly, and knowing that something as wonderful as this will have a sad ending.

My walk continues, feeling this is real. If I play my cards right, I can stay right where I am, and I won't have to leave after all. I can now feel the air that is clean and brisk. I feel I am walking home, looking for my door, and being greeted by my husband, the handsome man with the dark hair. I reach out and again my hands are gliding across the brick that lines the walls in this mysterious new home of mine. But where is my door? How do I find my home? Then I see the number 9 on a door and I walk in.

IT'S PARTY TIME

Life is tough, and it's one big fat reality. Never but never let your emotions get the best of you, so, do what you do that comes naturally, therefore, I carried on as I know and do best. I didn't need a weighty mess on my hands, nor a noose around my neck to be concerned about.

Dan eventually left, after all, he couldn't stay forever. Look, I hardly know the guy, and from what he told me about his screwed up situation that almost got him killed, well, it made me nervous. He was staying at a friends apartment like he said, and when he left, he told me he wanted to stay longer but told him he had to leave. I had things to do, and when he started to inquire about what I was doing for the rest of the day, I told him 'things'. I left it at that, and proceeded to send him on his way as I do all the rest. It's safe that way, just a romp, no feelings, no emotions, and once they start, I cut it off. That simple. I didn't want to have feelings for him as I was already having, and I decided to stop the nonsense. He wasn't any different then the rest, so my life goes on as usual.

I received some phone calls a little later after he left, where 'friends' wanted to come over for a party. I organized a simple get together with a few people, a few guys, a few girls, a few drinks, a little music, and we would be ready to enjoy the evening. Once they would all arrive, I would lock my door so others wouldn't intrude.

After we all settled in so to speak, we had a few drinks, and we all relaxed. We then got creative in a very unique way. We each had a partner and we painted our naked bodies with bright neon paint. When my handsome visitor painted my nipples, it felt cold to the touch.





It was not just paint but air brushing, spraying out paint that had a strange but nice sensation. He then painted me in slow moving strokes, covering every inch of skin from my neck to my vagina. I loved the way the paint felt on me. He painted me to look like a 'jungle woman'. He would turn me around, and started on my back side. Each 'brush' stroke went from the small of my back down to my ass and to the inside of my inner things. When I looked in the mirror, I was amazed at how incredible it turned out. Now it was my turn to paint him. I started at the top and worked my way down. When I got to his penis, I painted it a bright green, and made it look like a snake. We danced to music playing in the background and acted like crazy people.

My apartment resembled a cluster fuck of everyone naked, and just being a fun group with each other. Secrets were blurted out, not something anyone would have said if they hadn't been drunk. As the evening progressed, the night turned into morning, and by the early morning hours, everyone had left.