Dream interpretation and a bit of Ashley 32JJ for my 27th anniversary…

No, not my wedding anniversary. I’m speaking about that fateful February afternoon way back in 1981 when I lost my virginity (an oft-recounted tale which I believe I first told here). Curiously unaware last night that today would mark 27 years to the day, I had the strangest dream: My female fuck-buddy from that virgin sex experience drove up to my house with her boyfriend in tow. He was visibly agitated and, as I’d later learned, this was because they’d just visited an ex- of hers (one of many, to be sure) and he thought things just seemed a bit too comfortable there.

As my own brief, terse visit with the two of them was coming to an end, she took me aside and handed me a folded-over, opaque plastic bag, asking me to dispose of it before he could discover its contents. I did and they left. However, curiosity got the better of me and I fetch said bag from the bin and began unfolding it. In each of the first three folds there was a bar of white chocolate, each of which I ate upon finding them (how’s that for an ideal disposal method?!). In the fourth and final fold was a dead songbird. I buried the bird and returned the empty bag to the bin.

And that was it, really – dream over. But WTF was up with that?! Whatever could it mean? Obviously, my subconscious knew this date was upon me and drew the individuals involved up from the depths and into my dreaming state. But why the bag, the bars of white chocolate and the dead bird?? If anyone here is possessed of any acuity in dream interpretation, I’d really, really like to know your take on this! :~?

Having given up upon my own attempts at interpretation rather early in the day, I turned my thoughts instead to what I would have done differently and what sort of girl I’d want if I were my young, virginal teenage self once again. At length, I settled upon 32JJ Ashley (and, no, it’s not because I’d made any sort of subconscious connection with the mere coincidence that her site is called “Dream of Ashley“, either).

Although my fuck-buddy was a beautiful raven-haired babe whom I loved dearly, I find that I prefer blondes now (which is odd, because I’d never really fancied them when I was growing up) – so Ashley fills the bill. My fuck-buddy had big tits – probably an E-cup or so – but Ashley’s boobs are bigger. Despite her ample breasts, my fuck-buddy had a lithesome, slim-n-stacked figure, and I’ve come to appreciate something a bit more flesh on her bones – which once again brought me back to the semi-voluptuous Ashley. And, whereas my fuck-buddy always looked the slut, Ashley’s able to switch from all sweet & innocent to slutty seductress in the blink of an eye.

No, I honestly wouldn’t have changed anything in my sexual past for the world (apart perhaps from fucking more freely as the opportunities were afforded to me) but, going strictly on the fantasy premise of living one’s adolescent years over again, my mind can’t help but gravitate toward a busty young blonde like JJ-cup Ashley. So, in celebration of the 27th anniversary of my own journey from childhood into adultery, I give you my ideal fuck-buddy candidate 32JJ Ashley from DreamOfAshley.com: