22 February 2012

My Dream Date

I had a sex dream about Paul Rudd.

While I was in Florida, I read three romance novels: Natural Born Charmer and Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips, and A Little Night Magic by Lucy March. Actually, Lucy's might be more of a paranormal romance-I get confused by all the sub-genres-but the central love story is the glue that holds it all together. When I wasn't reading romance, I was writing it, so I had love and sex on my brain.

Paul Rudd was the lucky recipient of all that yearning. I think that's hysterical. The main characters in SEP's novels are football players with piercing eyes and chiseled bodies, yet my brain chose an average-looking, nice Jewish boy from Jersey for some hanky-panky. Let me add that Zachary Levi was also, inexplicably, in my dream. There was no three-way. At least not with me. I don't know what Paul and Zach did on their own after I left.

There was also no real sex. Just a little kissing. This could be because I don't actually know what Paul Rudd's body looks like. Why couldn't I have thought about Ryan Gosling before I went to sleep? I'd have had no problem conjuring up those abs before I drizzled them with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Yum. Unfortunately, I think Paul may be hairy, which could be why my brain derailed the ab-licking plan.

I'm fairly certain humor is the reason Mr. Rudd was at the receiving end of my lip lock. He's very, very funny, in a completely endearing way. He's completely non-threatening, which is probably why we remained fully clothed. He's not the ravaging type. Plus, I know he's married.

 Basically, I made out with my husband in my dream.

When the boys ask why the Captain and I started to date, I always tell them it was because he made me laugh. He never says anything, because his truthful answer is that I looked kind of wild, so he thought I'd be easy. But we're still together because it's fun.

It is both strange and satisfying to be with someone for so long. I can't believe we're this old, because most days I still feel like the twenty year-old who met him in the stinky, beer-soaked basement of the frat house. Minus the booze and the cigarettes. And apparently, our years together have been so  idyllic that I can't even fantasize about being with someone better. Although I could tease him about trading up for a younger model, because Paul was born a full five years, count 'em, FIVE years after me. Yes, my dream date is 42.

I really have to work on my cougar skills.

So, any good fantasies lately?


19 comments:

  1. You crack me up. Also, I'm incredibly jealous. Of you and the Captain, that is, not Paul Rudd.

    Sadly, my dreams are about on that level, most of the time. We really need to get out more.

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    1. Right? I had just finished writing what I hope will be considered a torrid love scene, and all I got was kissing? What's up with that?

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  2. I have a horrible tendency to dream about men I really know that I would never, ever actually get involved with. Part of the dream is me, convincing myself that that the attraction is okay. (I know, I know. I have issues. 'Nuff said. :D)

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    1. It is disappointing when we are completely OURSELF in a dream. In this case, I think Zachary Levi was there to take me off on a "Chuck"-like spy adventure. But I ditched him to chastely kiss the normal guy. Sheesh.

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  3. LOL Yes, I'm sure it's your cougar skills that need work.

    In most of my sexytime dreams, the guy either has Magnum's face or no face at all. I'm happy with my husband, which ain't bad.

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    1. I might name my next book "Sexytime Dreams." I love it that much. It could be about a woman (younger than me) who sets out to become a cougar, only to find love with the guy next door. I call dibs!

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    2. LOL! Both of you MUST come live near me!!! I miss you.

      (Shut. Up. We have TOO met. Some damn place.)

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    3. You may have all the dibs you want on Sexytime Dreams, but only if I get to beta. I write YA fantasy. I don't think it would work for me.

      Julie, I've told you my dream house is in WA, right? I just need three million dollars to buy it. I'll let you know when I'm getting close. ;)

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  4. Nope, I dream about my horrid chaotic class and wake up feeling like I've already been to work. Maybe *I* need to think about ryan gosling before I go to sleep.

    I only ever liked Paul Rudd in The Object Of My Affection. I've found his characters weak and annoying in other films, ymmv obviously. Although I still carry a torch for the guy who played chandler on friends.

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    1. A Lullabye for Lora:

      Go to sleep
      Go to sleep
      With Ryan Gosling
      Don't meep

      Forget your class
      Check out his ass
      Off his abs
      You can eat!

      Repeat as necessary.

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  5. Hmm, so you're dreaming about an average-looking, non-threatening, nice Jewish boy from New Jersey. Without chiseled abs. You sure it was Paul Rudd? Anything you want to tell me?

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    1. Only that I'm happy with my dashingly handsome, effervescently funny, endlessly supportive, nice Catholic boy from Jersey.

      And you have an equally spectacular wife.

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  6. Oh hell, I'm worse than you are. I have (to use Delia's phrase) "sexytime dreams" about Dan all the time. Jeez.

    Although, once in a great while someone else shows up. Rarely though, so rarely.

    And yeah, in August it will be 30 years. Married. How that is mathmatically even possible is beyond me, because obviously I'm still only like 19 or something.

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  7. Obviously! I've seen pictures.

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  8. I have nothing much to add. But some changes at work now allow me to post during the day. So I am exercising my option and "announcing my presence with authority."

    I'm not seeing the Paul Rudd thing, to be honest. But far be it from me to judge anyone's sexytime dreams.

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    1. Yay! I love it when you're authoritative.

      I CAN judge the sexytime dream, and I deem it almost boring. Tonight I am going to think long and hard about Tim Riggins before I close my eyes. I love a screw-up. With chiseled abs.

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  9. The guys I like are all so old now it's too embarrassing to mention them. And when I do dream about them they are still young, not the old farts they are today.

    It's a crime I'm getting so old. Come visit me in the old fogies home, will you?

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    1. Save me a rocker (chair or man- I'm not picky)!

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  10. You're back already! Sigh.

    Nobody's Baby is one of the ones I've read.

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