Dream of:01 March 1984 "God's Name In Vain"
I had met a Mexican-American woman who had begun working at the Law Office in Waco, where I was employed as a lawyer. Gradually I had begun to form romantic feelings for her. Several other new employees had also recently been hired at the office, but one job was still open. I learned my girlfriend Louise (she didn't realize I worked at this office) was going to come in and apply for the job.
As I sat in my office at the end of the hall, I glanced down the hallway and noticed Louise step off the elevator and cross to the office directly in front of the elevator. Obviously she was searching for the person in charge of hiring new employees. I knew the person wasn't in the office which Louise had entered. A few moments later, Louise walked out of the office, headed for the door to another office, and walked inside.
When Louise again appeared in the hallway, it looked as if she had been hired. She had a broom and was sweeping the hall floor, working quite diligently. I reflected that people often worked hard when they first began a job, but then slacked off later after they had worked a while.
As Louise moved around in the hall, an obstruction on the top of my door blocked my view of her. I finally had to stand up, walk over to the door, and kneel down on my knees so I could see into the hall. As soon as I did, however, Louise spotted me and immediately turned to leave. Before she could flounce away, I jumped up, ran into the hall, and seized her. She tried to fend me off and push me away, but I held tight and implored, "No. No."
Her volatile temperament prevailing, she loathingly cried out, "Goddamn you."
I despised this invidious phrase. It had vexed me in the past whenever Louise had used God's name in vain, and it vexed me now. Her imprecation added to the feeling that there was almost something detestably evil about Louise. Despite her evil nature, however, I couldn't seem to resist her. Indeed she seemed even more enticing and being with her was almost an act of delectable defiance.
Ignoring her pleas to be released, I clutched her as tightly as I could, finally managing to assuage her. As I pressed my mouth on hers, she became more malleable. I convinced her not to depart, and at the same time, I told her how much I cared about her. Mollified, she finally made up with me.
I knew that the Mexican-American woman was also somewhere in the office, and that she was aware of what was transpiring between Louise and me. When I had first met the woman, I hadn't cared much for her, but lately I had come to value her high quality. I hadn't yet had sex with her because I was afraid if our relationship deepened, I would end up having the same kind of problems with her that I had been having with Louise. It was now evident, however, that the next day I would have to tell the woman that she and I were finished and that I was returning to Louise. I would end the relationship with the woman, even though I didn't know if I were making the right decision by going back with Louise.
When Louise and I left the Law Office, we walked outside and boarded a car being driven by my uncle George. George had been crippled with polio since his youth, with both legs bent back at the knees, and had spent his life scooting around on the floor. Nevertheless, he was now driving the car. As I sat in the front passenger seat and Louise crouched down on the front floor of the car, we all headed down the road.
Since I hadn't been seeing Louise for a while, I wondered whether she had been having any sexual relationships with anyone. I belligerently demanded, "Have you been fucking anybody in the last couple months?"
She answered, "No."
I asked, "Have you been sucking anybody?"
She hesitated and finally admitted she had performed fellatio on one fellow. Her indiscretion didn't bother me that much, but I demanded, "Who was it?"
She said his name was "Weiden-something." I immediately became interested and determined to find out who the fellow was. I asked, "And did you swallow his cum?"
She made a little gulping sound and said, "Yeah."
George added, "Yeah. It was fifteen times. He came fifteen times."
As we talked, I decided I wanted Louise to perform fellatio on me. I directed her to climb up into the seat so her head was toward me and her legs toward George. Having extracted my penis, I pulled her head around and inserted my penis into her waiting mouth. I then reached down, pulled up her dress, and removed her panties.
Because George was crippled with polio, I figured he had never had a sexual relationship; I felt sorry for him. I didn't even know if he could achieve an erection. Since I thought this would be a good opportunity for him to try, I allowed him to reach over and insert the two crooked middle fingers of his right hand into Louise's vagina. Even as Louise continued to perform fellatio on me, George began rapidly massaging her. I reached over and, touching Louise's vagina, I could actually feel George's fingers jamming in and out of her. I was glad George was at least able to have that much sex.
Meanwhile, I began thinking of the Mexican-American woman. Perhaps I could still have an affair with her, and Louise could continue having an affair with the man whom she had been seeing. Maybe the four of us could even assemble and have a sex party. That way we could all continue seeing each other at the same time. Such an arrangement might work out just fine.
By now we had driven all the way out into the country; it was already dark and the area looked foreboding. On our right was a steep drop-off over a cliff, and on the road up ahead was a long line of motorcycles headed toward us. I advised George to be careful not to hit any of the motorcycles. When they passed by, we just barely missed them. When a second group of motorcycles headed toward us and we barely missed hitting them as well.
Suddenly, straight ahead of us, we spotted a pile of logs lying smack in the middle of the road. As George swerved to miss the logs, one of our right tires treaded off the right side of the road, pulling the whole car over the perpendicular cliff. The car smashed down the side of the embankment, crashing at the bottom.
When we came to a rest, I crawled out of the car, and then pulled out Louise. She seemed injured. I couldn't see George in the wreckage and I didn't know what had happened to him.
Outside it was dark, but lit up with a nacre sheen, as if from a full moon – although no moon was in sight. Even though we had just suffered a dreadful accident, I couldn't help but notice how pleasant the surroundings seemed.
Yet something ominous hung over the area. We were out in the country, and I could only see one large building nearby; I couldn't discern whether it was a barn or a dwelling. No lights were on, and the building had a surrealistic air about it. Apprehensive, I returned to the car and retrieved a .38 caliber hand gun. As soon as I had the gun, someone began running along beside the building and inexplicably began shooting a gun at us. I returned fire, trying to aim just a short distance in front of the running person. I could actually see my bullets flying slowly toward the person. None of my bullets struck their target, however, and the person managed to duck unscathed into the building.
Leaving Louise sitting behind the car, I dashed up to the building, which I now recognized as a house. Reaching the house, I peeked through a window, and glimpsing someone inside, I began firing my gun through the window. Suddenly a second person – standing inside next to the window – jumped around in front of me and began shooting at me.
The shots missed me and I retreated toward the car. Before I could reach the car, however, someone ran out of the house, threw something at me, and screamed, "This will fix you."
Even though the object hit me on the finger, I was able to reach the car, where I found a man standing beside Louise. Examining my finger, I saw some foam where I had been hit. When I asked the man if he knew what was on my finger, he replied, "Yeah. It's Winterfreeze."
I watched as the foam continued to build on my finger. The man gave me to believe that the foam would hurt my finger, but wouldn't be terribly dangerous to me.
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