Weird Dream

I had a dream. A very long dream. It involved being a guest at the Emmy awards (most of which I watched last night). I was staying in a Hilton which happened to be attached to the theater which was hosting the awards.

For some reason I was sharing a bit jacuzzi with a couple of other women (not hot, not overtly sexual types) as well as being looked on at by a couple of guys (hot, overtly sexual types). One of the two guys was supposed to be my "date." The other was Duane Johnson. The Rock. My fantasy man.

It was a long part of the dream involving the water being very murky and getting gradually colder and soapier until I started draining out the water while turning on the faucet to add some hot, clean water. Oddly, one of my tub-mates complained so I left it at something just above luke warm instead of letting to become more comfortable. And for some reason we were also cleaning out a fish tank. Except I was holding the air filter, trying to clean out the algae and gunk while in the tub, worrying all the while that the fish were going to die from lack of oxygenated water....

Eventually, bath time ended. I ended up standing face to face with my "date", a dildo inside my pussy (barely held inside, I'd occasionally reach down to push it's slipping length back inside myself). He was talking to me, wearing some kind of weird pharaoh or jester-like cap which extended out from and down the sides of his face, making our conversation seem somehow more private. I forget what he was saying, but it was kind of private... and extremely boring. Duane walked up behind me to take part on the conversation, moving very close behind me.

In the dream I suddenly felt my dildo being pushed firmly, deeply inside me. Duane had braced his knee against it covertly, still talking to the other man. His leg made small circling motions, rubbing the head of the dildo against my gspot gently but firmly. I tried to keep my face impassive, though I knew my "date" was aware of what was going on.

That part of the dream ended (no wet dream) and I was following Duane around trying to get a few moments alone where I could touch or taste him. Of course there never was a moment and eventually, I watched him, all apologies and disappointment as he was lead away in an entourage.

Then I woke up to pee. Kind of an odd dream. Rife with meaning, I'm sure. And sexual frustration.