Lucid Intent? No
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...I am driving to my girlfiend's place, I. G. It must be 1996 or 1997, because I don't really fuck girls anymore, and I'm in my home town driving my parents' car, and they obviously changed it since then. Anyway, my girlfriend's parents are not home. Good! We kiss, undress passionately. I suck her tits, finger-fuck her like I used to, how she likes it. I am about to penetrate her. But I am afraid that they are going to come back home while I'm here, fucking their daughter again, like in the old days. I probably leave before it happens. Somehow, she even helps me leaving faster. I love(d) her so much. I have a beautiful, surreal view of Ottawa at night from the top of the montée Paiement in Gatineau. I am driving to a weird building in Ottawa in which my aunt N. L. wants to buy a condo. Some of her friends are already there. The condo itself is U-shaped with the left part of it being the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, and the living room, while its right part is just a huge community computer room. Between the two parallel sides is a long corridor to connect them together at the bottom of the U. In the free space between the two sides of the condo is another condo side, where someone else lives. His or her condo is also U-shaped, and the other neighbor's condo, as well as the other's, etc. Anyway, for some reason, my aunt wants the estate agent to believe that the computer room is private. If I understand correctly, there is a community computer room in a wing of everyone's condo. I don't understand why, and how, she would want to lie to the estate agent about such an obvious feature. When he knocks on the door, my aunt gets nervous and asks me to take care of it. I answer the door: "Hi, my name is Alain. I am going to show you the place..." I am showing him the kitchen, we walk in the corridor: "At your right is the bathroom and your left, the bedroom..." We walk in the living room: "See? It's quite big! A beautiful country house." A country house that I've been in before; some distant relatives I'm not even sure to know own it. It could be the Catholic-Satanic hotel-motel my aunt N. L. owns. When I walk the estate agent back to the corridor that connects the two parallel wings at the bottom of the U, I see my aunt in a corner trying to hide someone among her friends, maybe herself. The estate agent and I walk in the corridor that leads to the community computer room. I am starting to feel uncomfortable. What does she expect me to say? There is a lot of people there, and I try not to mention anything. I notice that my jacket and my back pack are at a computer station. He doesn't mention anything. I also notice the friend my aunt was trying to hide is actually in the computer room, sitting at a computer station. "This is the computer room. Questions?" No. No question. Well, thank God! I was sure he was going to ask many professional questions that I couldn't answer on my aunt's behalf, but he didn't. He must not be very professional, then. He's a bad estate agent. I must tell my aunt. But she probably already knows about that. She must have met him before and asked him not to ask questions, or something. I tell him that we're in Chicoutimi, but it makes no sense: we're on Albert street in Ottawa. A robot arm is controlling, adjusting the position of my LCD screen so it doesn't reflect the light...
My aunt obviously doesn't own a Catholic-Satanic hotel-motel on Albert street in Ottawa.