Sexuality Archives - The Pure Life of Dreams

June 29, 2024July 8, 2024

Are You A Sane Person?

“Are you a sane person?” she asked.

We walked up the dirt path away from the lecture hall. She had straight blonde hair, a cute pug nose and an open smile. To the right of her was a tall bamboo forest.

“Only on Sundays,” I replied and then uncertainly, “Do you want me to be?”

I noticed that her shoes were black and round, like horse hooves, with a buckle strap to hold them on to her feet. Shawn told me she wore loafers, or was he referring to a different girl?

Shawn and I had been sitting at the back of the lecture hall. I’d been with him most of the time. In front of us, kids were sat at trestle tables which lay scattered across the parquet and not aligned in rows.

When the lecturer, like a quarterback, threw a rubber football at the kids they threw it back. Each throw was to illustrate a point. But one time the football travelled further and Shawn had thrown it back.

The kids in front were bunched up to the left of the lecture hall because of the direction of the previous throws. And when the lecturer threw it the next time it landed with me.

I thought to give the football to Shawn at first but he wasn’t going to take it. I’d never thrown a football before, or I hadn’t thrown one well, at least. I could throw it back, as if it was a soccer ball or, it being small enough, I could treat it like a cricket ball and put spin on it. It would be more convenient to throw it with my right hand given that the kids in front were to our left, but I was left handed and my right hand was lousy at throwing. I threw it back anyway with my left hand… As normal as I could throw a football with my wrong hand anyway.

A man passed in front of our trestle table just as I was about to hold Shawn’s hand. The man wore a shiny lavender pink shirt. And it was then that Shawn mentioned the girl’s loafers.

“I like that boys shirt,” I said, as Shawn and I got up to leave.

I thought he’d think me gay for liking the shirt but I wasn’t.

“The lavender pink one,” I continued.

“You mean the shiny one?” Shawn replied.

“Yes,” I said.

And then I left him and caught up with the girl with the cute pug nose and blonde hair and the non-loafer black shoes.

After I’d responded to her question, she’d looked at me and smiled back with an open smile, and the bamboo forest was green behind her.

Photo via Picryl.

January 3, 2023June 7, 2024

When the Hills Are Alive

We had been trying to arrange the sheets across the beds, suspending them above each mattress, and pinning them to the tops of the bedposts so that they could dry properly; before we left to walk and dance around beautiful mountainous rolling hills, rocks, steep curves and bright green grass.

May 10, 2022September 1, 2022

Buying a Flat Opposite the Dinosaurs

I am barely awake as Elaine and her boyfriend lie next to me on a bed in an upstairs flat in Hanwell.

They are canoodling even though I have my hand on her bare shoulder. And he is a bit rough looking; droopy alcohol eyes, red pyjamas, not very attractive I think, but I can’t really judge her, it is her choice. I was lying there with Elaine talking things through, when he joined us and she turned to kiss him.

Image by rubiopinar from Pixabay, cropped

March 5, 2022July 31, 2022

The Woman in Blue

Elaine and I are going to a party and she is bringing a friend that she wants me to meet.

We leave her flat in the Rockhart Estate and walk along the top floor balcony to a urine stained stairwell. And as we step down to the next floor the woman appears. She has long straight black hair, black heels and bare legs despite the cool air. And she wears a deep blue silk dress, flared at the hem.

Elaine says, “Here’s my brother from across the pond.” And the three of us continue down together.

Photo by Matt Brown via Flickr

January 20, 2022November 19, 2022

Anxiety and Finding the Bathroom in a Hotel

I step out of the hotel and ask to hitch a ride in the back of a white van with a group of doctors. They also have to go to a conference, all of them dressed in white coats and talking amongst themselves about the day’s events. I check my papers, they’re in the case with me and we are headed downtown, the day bright with the early morning sun like you only find in Washington.

Then the van pitches suddenly to the right, down a steep spiral cobblestone street. We flit past old buildings covered with posters and tall enough to block out the sky.

“Woah!” the doctors cry out as they grip the door handles of the van.

I need to leave, it is the wrong way for me.

“Can I get out?’’ I plea with the driver, but only at the bottom, the van comes to a halt and the driver lets me go.

I am in a park, green manicured lawn, the walls on one side remind me of the Tower of London. Then I notice the doctors get out too and it becomes clear that they are actually sightseeing.

To get some directions I step into another hotel but realize I’ve forgotten something on the van. What was it? I have my wallet and my jacket jangles with keys. Whatever it was, it cannot have been important and first I need to pee.

“Can you tell me where the bathroom is?” I ask a woman in uniform.

She points up towards to the bar area. “Then go through to the steps on the other side”, she says.

I follow the sign through the bar, spot the entrance then slowly I descend slick orange and white marble steps glistening with moisture from below. The steps spiral down, each becoming more slippery, but instead of a bathroom I come to what looks like the steam room of a gym. There is a man behind the steamed up glass, whistling and the steps are fully wet now. I shouldn’t go in I think to myself, he is probably undressed and uncertainly, I turn back.

(Then I remember what it was, that I left my camera in the van, brand new, a pocket camera that I had rested between my thighs when in the van. It’s annoying, but it’s not my immediate concern.)

I am in a restaurant area when I ask the woman, I think she is the same person, “Where again is the bathroom?” But her answer is not clear.

“Look, I’m going to piss in that thing right there in the middle of the restaurant”, I retort, pointing at an oval shaped vase with toothed rim made of some sort of alabaster. It is pretty, but only a foot or so high, a strange place for it, in the middle of the restaurant. You could trip over the vase if you were not looking.

“You can’t do that!” she replies.

I take off my cardigan, and throw it on the ground in front of her for it is getting hot. Then I throw down my jacket, right there. A man comes into the restaurant, he doesn’t see it on the floor and steps right on the splayed out jacket.

“Hey!” I shout at him. “You’re standing on my jacket!”

He looks up at me threateningly, curls up his left sleeve and makes a fist to swipe me with. He is young, well built in a smart gray jacket; has a handsome face and short curly black hair.

I don’t want to fight. I feel an affinity with him… Instead it would be better for us to get a drink at the bar.

Photo by Stephen Bowler from PxHere