In the dream I was in our house, but not in any particular room. Rather I was just “aware” of the whole house. I was also aware of loud moans, and what seemed to be cries of passion coming from what would have been our living room. And just like that, I was there. Not there, really, but present, aware, like some omniscient observer. And what I observed was my luscious 29 year old wife, Karen, naked on our large velvet covered couch, legs splayed, furiously masturbating. Glistening with perspiration, face flushed, and gasping from exertion it was apparent that much of what I had mistaken for cries of passion were actually cries of extreme frustration. Her hands worked back and forth franticly between her heaving breasts and the dampness between her legs, as she stared straight ahead at something just out of my field of vision.
Suddenly, my view of the scene shifted, and as if seeing it through her eyes, the object of her attention was there before me. A tall attractive man, ...
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