The Pickled Nipple
Level of Lucidity: N/A Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
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1. It's daytime. I bump into Becca in a garden just off a city street. We have yet another in our long list of dream sexual encounters. She is squatting down, smiling and squinting while I am standing. She takes me out of my pants and begins stroking me. But we get interrupted before any blowjob is possible.
Evening time. I am on the second floor of a duplex owned by Felicia. I have been visiting with her, strictly platonically. I know her upstairs is offlimits, but I've been goofing around up there. Suddenly I hear the front door lock turn! She's home from work! I have to get downstairs immediately! So I jump on the staircase banisters, one foot on each and slide (standing up) down to the bottom. I flomp onto the ground floor exactly as she tosses her briefcase onto a kitchen side table. The noise of the briefcase dropping seems a tad too loud. She turns and see me: she looks at me a little suspiciously. I try to act all super casual.
It's comedy.
"Weren't you supposed to meet your friend x________ at 7 o'clock?" she asks me. "He's going to be disappointed."
I realize that she is right. I am indeed missing an appointment.
2. Evening. I am at a houseparty having a great time. I come downstairs, passing through the crowd. It's my house. I must have several roommates. I get the feeling I've been away for quite a while. I can't help wondering if they have been raiding my groceries while I was gone. I start opening up cupboards in the kitchen, checking for condiments. But now I can't quite remember which things I had even bought.
I am flirting with a petite girl there. We wind up drifting toward a bedroom, not mine. I need to take a nap. So I just lay on the sheets of the bed, face down. "You can lay on top of me if you want," I offer. Apparently she does. We nap.
When I wake up, the party is in full force. But I find that the bed sheets are covered in melting puddles of ice water. I turn to the girl, furious. "What did you have in your hair?" She must have had snow or icicles or something. "You've got to fix this." I storm out and head downstairs again.
I am talking to another girl as we pass together through the dining room crowd. She asks me, "Are you a physical fitness trainer?" I answer, "No. But I am motivated!"
A woman walking in the other direction past us is quite disheveled. She is scratching her shoulder underneath her unbuttoned shirt. Very briefly I see both her tiny nipples. The girl I am with nudges me. "Did you see that?" she says, amazed, "I saw her nipples!"
There's a crusty old man who overhears her just as we pass him in the next corridor. "It's not too late still, " he caws. "We could drive across town and hit the Pickled Nipple." Apparently the Pickled Nipple is a strip club! This alleged name makes us double over with laughter!
