I had a dream a few nights ago, and it was so clear and has stuck with me so long, it must have meaning, but I can't figure it out. Sometimes simply writing a dream down makes it clear.
I'm in a motel/inn room. Very early morning, sun is just coming up. Rustic, lace curtains and embroidered spread kind of place, Maine shore feeling. The door and window open onto a boardwalk with a bay full of fishing boats directly below. The wide window has lacy cafe curtains that are closed on the bottom but open on the top.
With me in the room is a guy I'd apparently been dating for a while, but had not slept with. Slender, dark hair and eyes, pale complexion. I like him, and I know he likes me. I guess it was a late night, because we're just getting into the bed. I'm wearing a bra and panties. He's naked, although I hadn't actually seen him naked yet, he's already in the bed when I come out of the bathroom. He's lying flat on his back. I climb into the bed and snuggle next to him with my head on his shoulder.
He doesn't say anything, but I can tell he's nervous, uncomfortable, like he's not sure how to act. I push him over onto his back, figuring maybe a back rub would relax him, to sleep if nothing else. I pull the comforter aside in a heap, and find he has a beautiful back, and a glorious backside, high, round, tight, just the way I like it, with the perfect narrow hips I adore. Yummy. I crouch over him and start massaging and kissing his back, working my way down.
Just about then, the door is flung open wide, and there's the cleaning lady. She's like something out of a cartoon - lacy mob cap, comfy plumb body, grey bunned hair, apron, with a bucket in one hand and a string mop in the other. She says, "Oh, hello, good morning", like it's perfectly natural, and she stands in the doorway chatting, asking if we have visited the local sights and attractions yet, natter natter natter. I sit up and stare at her in shock. "Um, could you come back later? Like this afternoon?" She seems a bit surprised by my request, but she shrugs and leaves.
It sounds like the hamlet is waking. A lot of activity out there now, around the boats and on the boardwalk. The guy seems perfectly relaxed now, so I roll him back over onto his back. Anything that happens now is up to him, but I decide to take a peek anyway.
Down there, where there should be all kinds of interesting stuff, there's nothing. Well, almost nothing. There are concentric circles of loosely piled skin toward the front, like ripples in a pool. In the middle there's a tiny nubbin, smaller than the blunt end of a nylon-tipped pen, just barely peeking out. No "jewels". Nothing. The rest is perfectly smooth.
He has his eyes closed and may be asleep, but I guess now I know what he was worried about. I kneel there staring, trying to figure it out, when I catch activity outside the window. Some guys have arrived, in white canvas coveralls, apparently to paint a mural on the external wall. They can see in over the top of the cafes! They don't look, but they'd see all (or nothing!) if they did.
The windows swing open and closed like doors, on hinges, and the latches are both on the inside and outside. One of the men casually opens outward one panel of the window so he can put a can of paint on the inside window sill. Convenient, I guess. Then he pushed the cafe curtain to the side to keep it out of the can. Now anyone walking outside can see in.
I jump up, go to the window, hand him his can back, pull closed and firmly latch the windows, close the curtains, wonder what I can do about the top uncurtained part of the window, and stand there for a minute wondering why all these people seem to have no respect for our privacy! And seem to consider it perfectly natural.
Ok. I figured it out. Explanation later, maybe.... Anyone can attempt a guess, but I think it requires knowledge no one else has right now. Sorry. Useful exercise anyway.