I have no idea how to describe this creepy post

    I had the strangest semi-erotic dream last night.

      In the beginning, I was at a party in some gorgeous apartment that I've never seen in the real world, but wouldn't mind living in myself if it actually existed. I was surrounded by dream-friends and having a great time, but in reality, I didn't recognize a single person I was hanging with. At some point, though, I found myself talking to a short, tubby man, who balding on top, but extremely hirsute everywhere else. He was a complete stranger to dream-Tara.

      And she was captivated.

       I mean, I'm pretty sure my physical self, as well as my Dreamland counterpart, was wiping the drool off my chin as I slept. That's how strong the attraction was.

       This was one of those dreams where everything feels extremely real. The kind where the lines seperating reality and the imaginary are almost non-existant. Dream-Tara desired that man like no else she'd ever lusted after, and half of the real me wanted him, too.

      But a small part of me remained aloof. A tiny bit of real-Tara chanted from some invisible corner, that it was all just a dream. Unfortunately, her voice faded more and more as desire, warm and golden, sweet as honey replaced the blood in dream-me's veins.

      As often happens in dreams, time whipped around without any reasonable transition. One moment, I was flashing back to an earlier moment at the party, seeing at of The Guy's eyes. He'd seen me across a crowded room (thank you, South Pacific), and instantly knew he had to meet me. He'd grabbed one of dream-friends on the shoulder and pointed. The friend understood instanty.

       Then, just as suddenly, we were in my apartment (it looked just like my real apartment), in my bedroom, tearing off each other's clothes amid fevered kisses and caresses.

       My breath came in desperate gasps. His flesh (and the hair covering most of it) was damped with sweat.

      We fell back onto my bed, and real-Tara issued a last ditch effort to wake me up. Eww! she thought, grimacing at the idea of his sweaty, hairy body touching our gorgeous sheets. But in the same instant, the pelt like body hair thinned tremendously, and his sweat began to evaporate in the light breeze wafting in through the open window. Real-meblacked out, and I was completely dream-Tara, lost in the heady touch of his hands and lips covering my body.

       So wrapped up were we, in learning the other's body with kisses and touches, were still half clothed when he flipped over so that I was lying under him. Lying atop him, horizontal to the floor, his diminutive stature didn't matter and his pudgy body simply offered more for me to explore.

      His skin was now pink and cook, nearly all of the body hair had dissappeared. I rolled off of him to help him out of his pants. Slowly, reverantly, stroking his round belly as he lifted his hips to ease the black trousers over his ample bum.

       He hadn't been wearing underpants, and to real-Tara's faint but readily apparent distress, the magical depliation had spread beyond his arms, chest and back. Again, though, the me of the real world was banished in the heat of lips meeting lips.

      He somehow managed to remove the rest of my clothing -- I think I'd been wearing a black halter dress and sheer black stockings with black satin garters -- without ending his latest kiss.

      Completely naked to his eyes for the first time, I basked in their glow when he pushed up with strong arms, and held me just above him.

      I ran a finger slowly down his cheek, a slow smile creeping across my face. I couldn't stop if from growing to a full-out grin. Leaning down for another kiss, I stopped just short of his lips.

      "What's your name?" I whispered.

      And then my dog burst through the bedroom door and leapt onto the bed. She licked my neck and that back of my head until I dragged myself away from my strange almost-lover.

      The Guy sat up, grinning, while I wrestled my dog off the bed, and then sat on the floor, the cold seeping into my bum, and soothed her.

      "Didn't recognize my voice?" he asked, suddenly sounding like one of the announcers from my morning radio. "I'm (Bleep) (Bleep)." He wasfrom the radio show that wakes me up every morning. "I thought you knew. I thought that's why you brought me home."

      By this time, my dog was settled, accepting the stranger in my bed was no threat to me. (Bleep) (Bleep) opened his arms and beckoned, inviting my dog to join. "as long as she stays at the foot of the bed, though!" Which wouldn't cost interfere with the activities of a man as tiny as him.

      I climbed back into the bed, but my heart wasn't in it. I was in bed with a short, fat, stranger who was losing his hair. He was the opposite, in every way, of the American idea of beauty. In spite of all that, I still wanted him. But he was a stranger, and the idea of what I had done disgusted me, and I couldn't bear to sully him with my filthy hands.

      He was really polite about leaving. By then, the sun was just beginning to come up, and my bedroom window faces East. Usually, sunrise is one of my favorite times of the day, but this morning I was wrapped in sadness. He'd taken the morning off work to be with me, and I was sending him home. I felt worse than ever.

      When he was gone, I trudged to my bathroom and turned on the shower. I called to my dog, who had slipped away during my miserable musings. I wanted to thank her for bringing me back to my senses.

      She didn't answer.

      I ran around the apartment, searching everywhere for her. Checking some rooms -- the living room, my office -- two and three times.

      She wasn't there.

       I flew out of my apartment, not even stopping to throw on a robe to cover my nakeness.

      I must have been screaming, because, soon, my neighbors were pouring out of their apartments, and peaking over the stair rail to see what was the matter.

      "I can't find... ," I cried, even more upset by the fact that I couldn't remember muy dog's name. " I can't find... " I tried again, this time much more quietly.

      I sank down on the stairs. "She's gone," I whispered, dropping my head into my hands.

      A neighbor came and covered me with a blanket, sliding an arm around my shoulder and squeezing me as she sat beside me.

      I looked over at her.

      "Champ? Champ? Champ! Champ is gone! She's gone!" I would have crumpled into my neighbors arms at that, but just then, a short, sharp bark rang out, and a clattering of nails against tile sounded on the adjacent staircase. Seconds later, Champ appeared in the lobby, at the bottom of my own stairs.

      Through my joy and relief, it occured to me that I don't even have a dog, let alone a bitch named Champ.

      And then I woke up.