Dream #1

Hi there. Although I am a writer, this is actually my first foray into writing erotica, and all I'm going to do for you is tell the story that played out in my dream the other night. It was very meaningful for me and has stayed with me to the point that I would like to share it with as many people as I can. I think it is timely, in an erotically charged way. It is definitely a story for all those who think that sex is a body, mind and spirit experience.

I am just going to write what happened in my dream, with a little bit of background about me so that you can see a little more of where I'm coming from. I live in Toronto, and I am 30 years old. In addition to being a writer I am a psychic guide, or I should say an apprentice guide. I have access to the spirit world and am learning about the benefits of this access for people other than myself. I believe that all is one, that everyone and their every action and word uttered is connected to every other. I believe that, as beings of spirit, we travel through many states of being, this life just one of those. I believe that love is the greatest gift of this plane of existence, the greatest gift of the higher power that created it. I call that power God, or the Great Spirit. I love this life, and entailed in that is my love for sex. I am male and white, tall and brown-haired with hazel-green eyes. I identify as mostly gay, with occasional bisexual leanings, involving particular individuals, which only ever started for me after I came out. So, that's where I'm coming from when I dream.

I am writing this on Tuesday, February 12, 2002 and I had the dream on Sunday night past. It was a long dream but I can only clearly remember the last part of it. I can only fill in the beginning as best I can. I was out on the streets with a woman who felt like a friend (I did not recognize her in memory). She was small, white, and had curly long blond hair, kind of like the singer Amanda Marshall, only smaller hair. Her attitude was serious. We were out together, it seemed, when something happened nearby – some kind of explosion or big accident of some kind, because the dream only becomes clear in my memory at a point where there is chaos. People have been hurt and are lying on the ground, and the commotion is still going on – people are running around and yelling and there are sirens and the air is not clear.

My female friend and I have started to "work". We are both healers of some kind like maybe paramedics or something. We are working with a downed police officer when the dream becomes clear in my light-of-day memory. He is a big man and is in police uniform. At first I am not looking at his face. I am holding his head and shoulders in my lap from a kneeling position and I am looking down his body, which is prone. The blond woman is kneeling beside his legs and is laying her hands on him, one on each leg. I get the impression that he is dying, and that what we are really doing with him is attending his death, and helping him to pass on. We are both speaking to him, but I can't remember the words that we are saying.

All of a sudden, as soon as I understand the fact that he is dying, the scene changes completely, in less than a blink. We three are together, in the same positions, but are now alone. The noise and smoke and chaos is gone, and we are together in peace. And we are naked. To be more precise, I know that they are naked, but in my visual memory I cannot remember looking down and seeing my own body naked. I have kind of filled in for myself that I was, because of how it played out.

I am looking at the woman, who had just had her hands on his legs. She is bent down lower toward the man on the ground. She has taken his penis, which is not erect, in her hand and is leaning down to gracefully kiss the tip of it. I also take in that his body is the most beautiful, perfect male body that I have ever seen. I'm talking stepped-out-of-the-work-of-Michelangelo here. He was perfectly proportioned and defined, from his toes up. His skin tone was dark – not black, as such, but a natural tan colour like either that of a light-skinned black man or a dark-skinned white man. His skin was perfect. His nipples were a light pink. Taking this in and instantly inspired by his beauty, I looked into my lap to see his face.

He had just seen what the woman was doing with his body and was now leaning back to look at me. He had braids that reached his chin. They were not big braids, they were kind of like baby dreads, if you know what I mean. Not thick ropes, but small thin ropes made of silk, very dark brown or black. As he leaned back, the braids felt away from his face and I saw what I expected to see, a face to match his perfect body. He was clean shaven or had no facial hair, and had a strong jaw and cheek bones. His nose, again, was somewhere between an African nose and a Caucasian or even Roman nose. His eyes had colour – I do not have a clear visual memory of them, but they definitely had some blue or green in them. I did not see them for long. His lips were the same light pink of his nipples and, overcome with his total beauty, I automatically leaned down to kiss them. I got the impression that he was a straight man but also that he was very much into everything that was happening. We began to kiss each other, and then my alarm clock went off. The dream was over.

Sorry for the jolt, folks, but that was my dream and I told you at the beginning that I was just going to share the story as it came to me. If you're all primed for some self-loving, just let the story continue in your mind…

I do not make a practice of heavily analyzing my own dreams – if I did, it would become a full-time job – but this one has stayed with me in a big way and thinking about it has brought me great joy and a sense of peace. Who knows what it means – what does it mean for you? For me, vaguely, it's about sexual healing (yes, that same overused expression from that great old Marvin Gaye song…). Since I am a healer, of sorts, it seems to me that I was helping a man heal just as he was passing on, or maybe even healing him, in real time, to enable his passing on. Who knows, maybe I spiritually traveled back in time through my dreams to New York or some other scene of disaster and, with the assistance of a female stranger-friend and fellow healer, helped some real, beautiful police officer to move on in a way befitting the loving stud-hero that he was in life. I don't know exactly, and the details aren't important to me. I just wanted to share this joyful story with you – take from it what you want, and God bless.

Jack Diamond
(a pen name)
Toronto, Canada