I had a spring dream a few days ago. I really hesitated whether I shall write it down and share it with you. But after struggling for some time, overcoming mountains of guilt and shame, I decided to give it a go. I am ready to venture the storms.
In the dream, one of my Year 12 classmates visited me, here in Australia, with another girl, whose face was blurring in the dream. I could not recognise that stranger’s face. I even did not bother to cast my eyes toward her, for my eyes fixated all the time at my classmate, I was so thrilled to see her again.
To me greatest admiration, my classmate looked still as young as the schoolgirl thirty-four years ago, in which year, the Tiananmen square student demonstration occurred.
I could not hold my breath to believe,that, time did not work for this girl.
But once my wife had left the house to work, I promptly shut the door. Noticing the other girl had went to the toilet, or hid somewhere, I grabbed my classmate, whose nickname was the little fox, and held her fast in my breast. She simply did not protest and let me do to my heart’s content.
What a bold man I turned into. My hands greedily groped over her tender and soft body, starting first from her legs, and then moved smoothly upwards like a crawling snake.
I was in a total trance.
When the hand managed to climb into the white small tight bra, and with a single touch upon the little nipple, oh, my gosh, the sperms of joy, all in fierce competition, fearlessly sprayed out, like a springing fountain,from the bottom valve of my swelling little brother.
That high excitement was totally beyond my control, and it was totally beyond my comprehension. I was lost, losing myself, reducing my body and my individuality into a nil.
These little lovely tadpoles, thousands of them, all rushed like a cavalry unit, charging forward and forward, and dashed toward the foe. When they were all discharged, I woke up and realised that it was a dream.
I could not forget about the dream, and wondered why it occurred to me. I am already a middle aged man. A few more years later, I will be sixty years old, a clear signal to call me an old man. I have long thought that I have already bid farewell to that kind of things. Why do I still crave for it? Even in the form of a dream.
Recently I started to practise Qigong again, with the hope to relax, to meditate, to find a place where there was a different world. But with my eyes closed, my mind wandered in the Qi’s world, a world fully immersed with nature, in the Taoist path of living, so peaceful and tranquil, that I soon forgot my existence, but my goodness, the smiling faces of R and K intruded and I had a difficult time not slipping into the fantasies of having intimacy with the two sisters. I had to open my eyes to clear it away, and tried in vain to drive them away, but to no avail. I had to give up practising Qigong.
These things are not of my own willing or my own choosing. They came without my awareness. I could NOT prevent them happening to me. I thought as I grew older, they would also disappear too.