Dream party

Just in case you weren’t with me the other day, Inattentive Reader, I’ve had several thematically linked dreams recently, which may give you some indication of what’s on my mind just now …

Dream #2

My Wife and I were going to a party. It wasn’t to be hosted by anyone we knew, and I think attendance must have been strictly by invitation. We were accompanied by a female friend of my Wife’s, though I never saw her face and never interacted with her. Let’s call her Vanessa.

Where ever it was were were going, my Wife and I certinly had not been there before and, as it was dark, it took a little effort to find the venue, somewhere down a tree lined avenue of white, stone, terraced villas. We walked up the steps to the front door, rang the bell, and waited aprehensively. When the door opened we were greated by a woman in her mid 50s, dressed in a theatrical, VIctorian style, who led us through an empty hallway and into the livingroom. 

The room was brightly lit with high ceiling and the walls were lined with regency style upright chairs and Chesterfields. Awkward looking guests, mostly couples, who obviously didn’t know eachother held muted conversations with their companions. Most were wearing normal day-clothes, but I knew that they were just covering up something more interesting, just as we were. I didn’t know what my Wife or Vanessa were hiding, but I had on my white rubber shirt, purple latex chap-shorts and matching driving gloves. 


We were sat on a burgundy velvet sofa. My Wife and Vanessa were chatting to my left, observing the other guests with fertive glances. Sat to my right was an attractive, young, long haired blond. As she struck up conversation with me, I could see a hint of light coloured rubber under her thick woollen cardigan. She asked if it was it our first time at one of these parties and we discussed the other guests.

A middle aged man in stockings, suspenders and pink frilly panties that somehow managed to accentuate his impressively large and enviably dangly balls. He lead his wife round on a dog leash, and she was dressed in a smart black pinstripe business suit and rubber hood. We debated who was the Top, as he controlled the leash but she was clearly giving him the orders.

Another woman in a green and yellow inflatable rubber dress stood alone. We debated whether she could have inflated dressed herself.

Another couple were joined in the most ingenious red latex outfit; both of them in a single bodysuit, as if they were going to take part in some kinky three legged race.

The hostess led a few more guests in as a morning-suited, bald headed butler (much like Tintin’s valet) brought round drinks on a tray. People started relaxing. The woman with whom I’d been chatting unbuttoned her cardigan, revealing a cream rubber front lacing corset. This emboldened me and I took off my sweater to reveal my rubber shirt and thonged chap-shorts. My Wife was about to reveal her skin tight underwear and the alarm clock went off.

So, Dear Reader, can you guess what’s on my mind at the moment? If not, maybe the next instalment will revealed all.

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