Dream of:25 October 2007 (3) "Wedding"
I had moved into a modest little house where Michelle and a boyfriend of hers were living. He was a brutish type (about 30 years old) and Michelle looked a little harder and a bit more detached than normal.
I looked out a window into the back yard. Several tree limbs had fallen to the ground and I thought I might go out and pick up the limbs.
I walked back toward Michelle's bedroom, stood in the doorway and looked inside. Michelle was lying on the bed on her back. The boyfriend (dressed in a yellow shirt and yellow pants) bumptiously brushed past me and entered the bedroom. When I asked him if he wanted to help me pick up the limbs in the back yard, he said no, that he wasn't going to do it.
He walked over to the bed and lay down next to Michelle. From my perspective, he was lying on the right and she was on the left. She was wearing a skirt pulled up so I could barely see her white panties.
The boyfriend and I continued talking about the fallen limbs, even though he clearly wasn't going to help; I would have to pick up the limbs myself. Then Michelle and he began discussing the limbs; they confusedly talked about who had asked whom to pick up the limbs. I couldn't understand exactly what they were saying.
Gradually the boyfriend forcefully wrapped his arms and legs around Michelle and held her tightly. The scene was somewhat erotic and I wondered if they were going to have sex right there in front of me. The thought of a ménage a trois even passed through my mind, but I really didn't like the idea and the erotic feeling quickly faded, replaced by a sickening pain as I realized Michelle was under the control of this brute. She looked directly at me several times. Her impassive glances were extremely poignant, because only now did I realize Michelle wanted to be under the control of the boyfriend. She knew she wasn't happy with this man and she wanted to escape, but at the same time she was submissive and she allowed him to control her. She defiantly looked at me as if to tell me she wasn't going to change. Her effrontery seemed to communicate to me that if I wanted to be with her, I would have to accept the way she was.
I had accepted it. But I didn't like it.
They continued talking and quarreling with each other, and as the boyfriend held her tightly, I heard him enigmatically puff, "I won't aid at your wedding."
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