My intention was to engage her in intimate, physical contact. No persuasion was necessary on my part. No sooner were we in the vehicle than I felt Roleen's hand demandingly searching between my legs for my penis. She found the object of her desire and through my pants began an earnest caress which sparked a "Take it easy," response from me.

I began kissing her, but my lips felt somewhat numb and I seemed to have something grainy in my mouth. It was as if my lips were cold and thawing out. But it didn't take long before we were both fully warmed up.

I was worried, however: if I had sex with her, I might contract AIDS. I simply couldn't take that chance—at least not without a condom. Fortunately, I had had enough foresight to bring a package of condoms with me. When I had bought the condoms, I had even had to spell the word "prophylactics," which had been an effort.

I immediately pulled out the package (which contained three condoms) and extracted one. I was still sitting upright in the seat, with my penis already out of my pants. I was somewhat surprised that I already had an erection. Without hesitation, as the woman watched, I began rolling the condom over my penis. The condom seemed thick, like a rubber glove, and I commented about my disappointment in the poor quality. For a second I thought of returning to the store to buy a better one, but I quickly realized now was hardly the time to do that.

Try as I might, I couldn't seem to pull the condom all the way over my penis—an air space of about two centimeters was still left in the top, and at the base, the prophylactic seemed to want to roll back up, which concerned me because I didn't want any place left exposed.

At any rate we finally began having intercourse. We began in the cab of the truck but soon found ourselves completely nude having intercourse on the hood. We continued and continued but I didn't feel like climaxing. Indeed I didn't really seem to be feeling anything. But I was satisfied I could hold an erection for such a long time.

I thought of different positions we could assume. The woman lay on her stomach and I was able to insert in her vagina from behind. I wondered for an instant what it would be like to insert into her rectum, but the idea didn't appeal to me.

Next I lay on my back on the hood and the woman lay on top of me on her back. I again inserted and our legs interlocked. I wondered if anyone was around watching us out there—I didn't mind that someone might see us.

It began to occur to me that two other women were going to show up and that I would likewise have intercourse with them. Indeed I imagined long, drawn-out episodes of intercourse with each of the other two women during which I used the other two condoms. I would maintain erection throughout and not climax. I realized that once I had finished with one woman I wouldn't be able to return to her since I would have taken off the condom I had used with her.

But I found myself again lying on my back on the cab with the first woman lying on her back on top of me. I was forcefully having intercourse with her when it suddenly occurred to me I was actually lying on my stomach in bed dreaming. Since I was dreaming, I knew I could climax if I wanted to, but I decided not to climax, and I drifted back to the original scene.

But all had dramatically changed. I was now sitting outside the vehicle, which had changed remarkably. It was still black but now appeared to be a large horse-drawn carriage. My sister was either inside it or lying on top of it.

I was still experiencing the effects of the mind-altering substance. Indeed it seemed some special event had prompted me to take the substance and my sister was there for the event. With her she had brought her son, my nephew David, who was lying nearby behind a log.

I began to force my attention on David, prompted by the fact that he was continuously talking. As I listened I realized he seemed to be telling a story and I became mesmerized by what I was hearing. He had an uncanny ability to simulate different peoples' voices. The story contained a large amount of dialogue between different characters and his change of voice immediately told which character was speaking. The story was quite coherent and I continued listening for five or six minutes. I then noticed that another person had showed up for the special event we were celebrating: my father. However nothing in the appearance of the apparition before me would have indicated that it was my father.

What I saw resembled to some extent an old, decayed tree trunk with a long tail. Apparently, my father had obtained a costume and had dressed up (for I knew he was inside the get-up). But he also somehow seemed part of the costume, as if it had grown on him. It was black and white and appeared rubbery. It looked about the height of my father but also had an extension about five meters long trailing from it. It looked like something out of a children's movie.

My father looked at and talked with David. No communication passed between my father and me and I realized a gap existed between us which neither of us could cross at the moment. I would have liked to have comforted him somehow. I pitied him for having grown into the grotesque creature before me. And the growth seemed to a large extent irreversible, as if the result of years of change. We couldn't reverse what had taken place. Yet I sensed that he too would have liked for things to have been different between us and that he was there at this moment for my benefit, even though he couldn't tell me so himself. He seemed to be saying something to David about me. Finally, rather sadly, he turned and left.

I rose and walked over to David. I didn't know what to say at first but when I reached him I immediately told him how much I had enjoyed his story. I said, "It was great. It was one of the best stories I have ever heard."

He absolutely beamed. I could tell my sister was also listening and she was happy that I had been so impressed. Indeed I thought David had an innate story-telling ability that needed development—he seemed like a natural story teller. When I asked him if he had heard the story before or if he had made it up, he said he had heard it before—but it seemed unlikely to me that he could have remembered all that.

Finally, someone, perhaps my sister, said that it was time for me to tell a story to David. I happily accepted the idea, even though I was unsure what I would tell. I sat down, still feeling the mind-altering substance at work. It seemed that it and other substances had taken a harsh toll on my mind and had made my inner vision foggy. But as I began to concentrate, the mist began to clear somewhat.

I felt somewhat out of shape physically from lack of exercise. I realized much time had already run through my life's hourglass. Yet I felt time remained and now was the time to use it.

I first thought of telling David some religious story, perhaps from the Bible. The thought made me choke up a little. But I passed over that and thought of telling of some event from my life. Finally, I focused in upon a dark-haired woman in her 50s whom I had once encountered in some mountains. She had been a master story-teller and she had taught me some of her art. I began constructing a story about her which I would tell to David.

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