Erotic Dreams

I used to pin women down on the astral and stick my tongue down their gob, then run away and hide within the dreamscape. Gregg Valentino used to say that his tongue was directly connected to his nob. In other words, the art of kissing a girl got him hard. I have to agree with him. Kissing is the best foreplay. That being said, it’s all a bit hit and miss. Sometimes, I don’t like the idea of another slimy wet tongue touching mine, tasting what she last eaten. If she’d just been sucking on a punnet of strawberries, I’d be more inclined to kiss her back, but if she’d just been gobbling something I don’t like, like a piccalilli and horseradish sandwich, then that would put me off. It all depends. The mouth is full of slobber. I prefer a dry kiss, when the cake-hole resembles the bottom of a bird cage, after a hangover or something, or first thing in the morning. This could be to do with my aversion to phlegm.

In dreamscape, I’ve had bad experiences with snogging unwholesome succubus. I usually end up spitting out what feels like rotting compost from my mouth. This is a strange and disgusting sensation. I have a lot of frottage there (the act of rubbing up against), and that usually leads unto the kiss. But something inside their gob crumbles inside mine like a mouldy flapjack, and I wake up gagging, wiping it away in my bed, so I’ve recently learned not to kiss. It’s difficult practising morals on the astral plain, because all of your reasoning faculties are cut off when asleep, and you are a pure primal, carnal being. I tried to give one succubus a love bite one time, and she tasted like a snake. I think that sex with heathen in dreamscape is wrong, even if it is only a dream, or a sexual nightmare. Quite often, family members are involved with this ruckus, thus furthering that argument. And people you just generally don’t want to have sex with. But, with a lack of consciousness, and a responding penis, you get carried away, and risk it for a biscuit.

I have woken soiled, and it’s not a nice feeling. Because of my anti-masturbation stance, these succubus target me on purpose, to make me ejaculate and ruin my mood. Since I became impotent however, this is almost practically impossible. It takes an awful lot of energy to get me fully aroused these days, and climaxing. I’m not even sure it can be done. When I’m excited watching porno, or listening to demonic mantra, I usually hold back from being fully engorged. I have intrusive delusions about being in an erect state in a darkened room on my own. It tends to attract a lot of fear deep within me. It’s hard being privately sensual on your lonesome when you have dozens of voices in your head, and spirits around you. It’s like masturbating in the middle of a public party, which nobody in their right mind would ever do, but sheer desire and greedy motive help me forget that anything is even there. When I close in on being fully-engorged though, and it does take some time and concentration, my doubts and suspicions become alight with paranoia. One thing the enemy has promised me, and you might find this silly, is that the next time I am standing proud and upright, which will be an extraordinary occasion since the priapism which made me forever mostly flaccid, the Chinese government are going to come in, murder me, and chop off my member, to preserve it and mould it into a dildo. Ridiculous, is that not? Then why do strangers always appear at my front door when I am close to that condition, and caught up in the stiff paralysing arm of eerie psychosis? I start believing it. Then the spirits and ghosts come out, and I hear Angels pleading with me to stop, and I start hallucinating, then I sense intruders in the apartment, and then I remember that I am a Targeted Individual who is wanted dead or alive. I recall that my persecutors will stop at nothing. I hold back from the erection and generally tend to start shitting myself.

Of course it’s pleasurable being sexually charged. I know from experience that this driving force is more powerful than hunger or thirst or nicotine. Water and tobacco don’t matter one jot to me when caught up in the yearning. The only thing that can touch it is peace-shattering fear. Sometimes, I’ve stopped, hitched up my pants, and run out of the flat, to be chased around the streets for hours by calculating hate mob. Now, I always hold my ground.

I had a different sex escapade dream last night. This one seemed to be of love. The woman was smiling for a change, instead of sneering, and enjoying it as much as I was. I woke up feeling as if I had made love to my wife, instead of using and abusing a slag. My mood was elevated, instead of deflated. Yet it’s had me thinking about porn throughout the entire morning.

I’ve made a U-Turn recently. I’ve stopped seeing women as objects of desire but as mindful individuals who are unique and loved by God. I see their prettiness now, not their sexiness. This latest experience on the astral though has my head in a spin. In the past, I wanted a nasty pounding of grinning slut. Now, I want a lovely exchange with smiling princess. So my goalposts have definitely changed somewhat. But it’s still sex. And in the end, because I can’t function with real women, it means that darkened room, with the Chinese knocking on my door, and even entering my domicile when I am still present in it. So buying some new porn and kicking on isn’t really an option.

But I’m thinking about it. Sex is the reason why we are all here.

Why is flesh an enemy?