DREAMS where you feel TOUCHING

  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 16, 2013 7:51 PM GMT
    OK, last night I had this incredible moment in a dream. There is this guy (straight) that comes to the restaurant bar I go to for Happy Hour on Thursdays who is the only person that seems a bit standoffish to me, specifically. So I don't pay him much attention. But, he's one of those shaved head, big arms, tattooed guys that, you know, are hot. So naturally he ended up in my dream.

    Anyway, there was this brief moment in my dream where I asked him if he could hold me with his big legs. icon_wink.gif I felt apprehensive about asking him, just as I would in real life, because I think he's probably a homophobe. Luckily, in dreams, you can turn homophobes around.

    He turned to me and willingly got down on the ground and proceeded to wrap me up in ways I didn't think a body could do. And I actually felt the pressure and the feeling of our naked skin together so intensely that I woke up. It was like, holy crap, I FELT that.

    So, have you ever had dreams where you feel things against your body?
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 16, 2013 8:15 PM GMT
    As you approach and break through to being lucid in your dreaming, you will be able to experience sensations through living consciously while perceiving yourself as a dream body all the senses known by your physical body when it is awake, whether those are the touch of dream characters, the feelings of winds, differences of temperature, all of it, even taste. Enjoy.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 16, 2013 11:35 PM GMT
    Not usually, but recently I had a non-lucid dream (unusual for me) with a guest mention of Art Deco where I definitely felt CuriousJockAZ and Ariodonte murdering me, which I conveyed in the third person for the "Write A Scary Story" thread, which probably inspired it. Funny, I thought of you as I was writing it because you regularly create teaser threads about what turns out to be weird dreams you have! For anyone who wants to take a ride through my nightmare, here's that story, a real dream where I woke up with a start where the story ends. More twisted than even your dreams, eh Vic?


    "The Boys Next Door"
    Part 1 of 2
    by eagermuscle

    The bike wasn't eagermuscle's style, a vintage girl's Schwinn with a white vinyl seat and matching wicker basket, but that's what he inexplicably found himself riding down a baked ribbon of asphalt sidewalk one blistering Miami afternoon. Why was he here back in his parent's neighborhood, pedaling away, just blocks from their house? It was too hot to even theorize the how's and why's, so Eager kept cycling along, admiring the eclectic architectural mix. His parent's house had been overbuilt for its time and reigned supreme for over three decades until a dozen years ago when the McMansion boom hit, leaving their sprawling rancher overshadowed by two story, $2 million dollar faux Mediterranean palazzos built from lot line to lot line, with one exception - Art Deco's house.

    Eager had met the neighbor lady when he was five, before his dad had even driven the stakes into the ground of their vacant lot to mark the footprint of their future home, and had thought Art Deco old even then. Her house was the type of tear-down typical of the neighborhood; constructed in 1952, it was a low lying ranch with a cathedral ceiling, fireplace, levered glass jalousie windows and slung, cantilevered roof that extended over a carport. Built when South Florida residents actually used fireplaces on chilly winter nights, in an era when few had central heat or a/c, it was designed to catch the breezes and seemed perfectly suited to the one plus acre lots of Dade County pine and swamp palmetto on which they discreetly stood. Only until recently deemed "ugly" it was odd how today they were considered "retro," mid century masterpieces worth preserving. The native pine and scrub? So long gone that oak and black olive trees matured in their place.

    Eager's train of thought was suddenly interrupted when a ten-speed bike raced in front of him, its rider clad in a pair of snug red Dolphin shorts and nothing else, all the better to display his tanned, muscled body. Something seemed a bit "off" about him; the face didn't quite match up to the physique or haircut, but that was the new normal, wasn't it? Eager was no slouch at the gym himself and, taking in the eye candy during his rests between sets, had become expert at what he called "The 60/40 Game" - was that member a well preserved 60 or a haggard 40? Seeing the rider hang a hard right on his parent's block Eager suddenly wanted to play.

    He was surprised to find the bike leaning against Art Deco's house and a late model SUV parked in front of the now-enclosed carport. It was once the pariah of the neighborhood, but given the market crash had been renovated and landscaped instead of razed. Had Art Deco died? Art had always played the Empress Dowager card to the hilt but had been nice to Eager when he was little, offering him treats in a porcelain candy tray when he'd go knocking on Art's door. He'd loved Art's house with its cuckoo clock, collection of Hummel figurines and ersatz blonde furniture - as a kid he thought of it as a big dollhouse. Eager had always felt a pang of remorse at not following up with Art whenever he'd visit his parents in the years after he'd left home. Last he'd heard, Art Deco had become somewhat of an infirm recluse, the block's own Miss Havisham. Eager looked down at his bike and realized that without the horizontal crossbar it'd make a perfect gift for Art, for her to safely rejoin the living if she was indeed still alive. So with equal parts charity, compassion, curiosity and libido, Eager knocked at the door. He had to check on Art, check out if the house had been more faithfully restored inside than out, and he just had to examine those tight shorts up close.

    "Who's there?" a voice called out.

    "I'm your next door neighbor Eager, I've come with a gift for Art."

    The door opened and a shirtless, sunkissed blonde of indeterminate age stood before him. "I'm so sorry, we're just short-term renters. I'm CuriousJockAZ but you can call me 'CJ'. Would you like to come in?" CJ's pecs were hard and firm, with a light sprinkling of sun damage. They looked like they were encased in taut salami skin, and between them and the running shorts the effect was hypnotic.

    "Sure," said Eager, feeling a blast of cold air from a portable a/c unit sweep across his body. He knew what awaited him at home - his parents were stingy with the air conditioning and standing there, about to keel over from the humidity and bright noonday sun, Eager found the invite irresistible. "Boy, that feels nice!"

    "We like keeping it cold," said CJ. "Ari? Ari, we got company!" Ariodante glanced up from a giant computer console on a teak Danish modern workstation in front of the freshly painted brick fireplace. Blinking as his eyes adjusted Eager didn't know where to look first. Ari? CJ? Or the fact that the designer had retained that darling original scalloped trim detail on the built-in bookshelves flanking the mantle?

    "I'm Ariodante, but you can call me 'Ari,' said the handsome brunette with the do-rag. "Don't mind me, I'm just working on my blog."

    Eager's eyes were still darting between the newly buffed terrazzo floor and CJ and Ari's faces. Yes, something was definitely, well off. They had youthful, well muscled bodies - bigger, taller and stronger looking than even his own - but the skin on their faces looked too-tightly pulled and seemed somewhat blotchy and mismatched in tone, as if both had recently returned from an intensive chemical peel. Telltale hair plugs sprouted from beneath Ari's headgear, and their lips were disconcertingly plump. Were these two plastic surgery junkies?

    "We're plastic surgery junkies!" Ari gushed enthusiastically. "We keep a blog on it! In fact we're in town with our club. We're going to have procedures together! Group discount!"

    Were they 60, or were they 40? Or 30? Or 70? What did it matter - Eager's curiosity was piqued. "Oh, I love that!" Eager said, trying to peer at the invasive cosmetic procedures plastered across Ari's screen. "You tell me what you had done, and I'll tell you what I had done!"

    Ari swivelled the screen so Eager could take a full gander. "You first," he said.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 16, 2013 11:37 PM GMT
    "The Boys Next Door"
    Part 2 of 2
    by eagermuscle

    This was the part Eager liked - where he got to show them up. "I had a nose job," he teased before launching his closing salvo. "Just a scar revision on the bridge - look, you can barely see it." Eager whipped off his glasses and thrust his face forward, setting the stage for his favorite part. He was proud of his unblemished, unlined skin and at fifty was often mistaken for being at least 20 years younger. Then he moved in for the kill. "How old do you think I am?" he intoned, relishing every syllable, priming himself to bask in the inevitable compliments given not only when he disclosed his real age but that he came by his youthful good looks naturally.

    "First, let us get you something to drink and some snacks," said CJ. Eager would've been crestfallen had snacks gone unmentioned. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable in the other room while we make up a platter." CJ opened a french door into the home's rustic den, then joined Ari in the kitchen.

    Eager remembered this room - it was very incongruous for Miami, and retained even more so than the rest of the house its original vintage charm. Dark stained french doors and quarter sawn birch log interior siding set off the nicotine-stained wallpaper sporting bucolic hunting scenes plastered onto the ceiling. But something still felt off. Why was he told to wait in this unairconditioned room? It was a stifling, humid hotbox, making him sweat even further. He started feeling dizzy. Eager heard CJ and Ari rattling around in the kitchen, whispering. About him? He tried the doorknob, half expecting to find it locked. But it turned easily so he walked back into the living room. Ignoring his growing sense of trepidation and innate flight response, he continued towards the kitchen.

    Suddenly CJ grabbed him from behind in a mock chokehold, pouring a dixie cup of something dry and gritty down his throat as Ari emerged with a covered platter. Panicking, Eager tasted it on his tongue – coarse sea salt and brown sugar granules. A perfect energy booster to rehydrate with. Relieved, Eager relaxed as did CJ’s hold. But then CJ grabbed him in a far firmer chokehold, pulled him tight against his hard torso and thrust a tablet against the roof of Eager’s mouth, which Eager felt instantly dissolve with a distinct chemical aftertaste. “Fuck, this is it.” thought Eager, unable to break free. His next thoughts, nearly his last, were how he should’ve listened to his parents. "Never go into a stranger’s house unless someone knows you’re there. Never let vanity get in the way of your better judgement." Ironic how he now knew he was going to die mere seconds away from the safety of their house, a veritable fortress his parents built to last. It was okay - he always knew it'd outlast him. But he never thought they would.

    Ari whipped the doily off the platter, revealing it to be a stainless steel tray laden with surgical instruments. He picked up a huge hypodermic, grinning cruelly, which caused his do-rag to slip back further, revealing a frightening, separating incision sliced temple to temple just as a meaty skin flap flopped free. Ariodante pressed the flap back against his exposed skull as matter-of-factly as he'd blot bacon, squirted the air out of the syringe and continued dispassionately. “It was time for us to take a break and change identities again before we move on,” he said. “We don’t care how old you are. We just love your flesh.”
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 12:22 AM GMT
    Oh man, those dreams are the best. Except when you wake up and realize it was a dream :/
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 12:41 AM GMT
    eagermuscle said
    "Last he'd heard, Art Deco had become somewhat of an infirm recluse, the block's own Miss Havisham."

  • AMoonHawk

    Posts: 11422

    Mar 17, 2013 12:53 AM GMT
    yes I have vivid dreams from time to time ... most of the touch feeling ones are of a sexual nature
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 1:15 AM GMT
    southbeach1500 said


    Well, the "Write A Scary Story" thread isn't the only thing that inspired this nightmare. I didn't set out to denigrate anybody in a dream, much less portray myself as vain, bereft of judgement or murdered. But a dream's a dream, not some fiction I deliberately cooked up.
  • hanzo83

    Posts: 458

    Mar 17, 2013 1:37 AM GMT
    Yeah I love those realistic dreams like that as long as it's something pleasant being done to me lol. The most specific one I had was when this guy who I used to work with came up behind me as I sat on the floor and breathed his warm breath on my neck. I could feel it just like I would in real life even though I never had that done to me. It felt so good and it turned me on instantly in the dream. It makes you feel like the non-physical world we go to in our dreams is just as real as this world.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 3:38 AM GMT
    I've experienced dreams where I can feel stuff...Very surreal at times.

    But tell me something... Has anyone felt the sensation where someone or an unknown force has literally grabbed your balls and pulls at it without letting go?!

    Its so painful its hard to describe!!
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 4:34 AM GMT
    Let's hope for round two tonight
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 4:41 AM GMT

    I use the sense of touch to distinguish reality from dream. Once I was able to wake up from a nightmare because I realized I couldn't feel. However, that isn't always true.

    One time, I had a dream I got shot in the back. I literally laid there for like 5 minutes suffering in pain. Then I woke up shaking because I honestly thought I was dying.

    There have been other times, where I feel, but that was the worst, and most memorable, case.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Mar 17, 2013 4:55 AM GMT
    WaytoDawn said

    One time, I had a dream I got shot in the back. I literally laid there for like 5 minutes suffering in pain. Then I woke up shaking because I honestly thought I was dying.


    That's crazy.

    Whenever I'm having a dream that involves pain, I ALWAYS wake up before it happens.

    If I'm about to get shot, I wake up before it happens.
    If I'm jumping off a cliff, I wake up before I hit the bottom.

    I never experience the impact.


    And with wet dreams, I always feel something.

    It's weird.

    The first time I woke up with my boxers wet from a dream I could not believe it lol.