garote | Two semi-erotic dreams about school

I was driving the car through a road in the woods. Small buildings began to appear on either side, between the tall redwood trees. The road snaked around them. I realized I'd driven onto a college campus. Students were walking around, and I slowed down to be courteous.

The car rolled into a large flat area, like a parking lot. The tree canopy was still thick, far overhead, making the sunlight indirect and dappled. Curious, I parked the car in a space and got out to look around. A long line of students went into one building. They were registering for classes. The semester was just getting started.

I walked up a cement ramp - too narrow for cars - and into a row of classrooms. The middle classroom was only accessible through doors leading to the classrooms on the ends, which was confusing to a lot of students. Everyone was wandering around uncertainly, carrying books.

The middle classroom had low bookshelves dividing the space up, with a grid of desks layered into it. Only a handful of students were sitting, and others were passing in and out constantly, trying to decide if this was the right room. The instructor - a man in a white lab coat, with frizzy hair and round glasses - was relying on me to speak quietly to new students and get them oriented while he continued with the lecture. Every now and then he would say something in a garbled language that only advanced students could decipher, and I would helpfully translate for the newcomers.

I got up from my desk and walked around a row of bookshelves, and there was Jennifer. She was the first girl I'd had a crush on at school, back at Vine Hill Elementary in Scotts Valley. She'd been about 12 years old when I met her. In here, she was much older. She had the same tousled blond haircut, but her face and limbs had grown and developed sharper edges. I guessed she was around 30. This was odd because the last time I saw her was in Middle School, when she'd been 15. Obviously my mind was taking a wild guess at how she looked now, and even that didn't make sense because she should be in her forties.

I said: "Whaaaat. Whaaaat!" at her, in an incredulous tone. I frankly could not believe we'd run into each other. I figured she'd recognize me and be just as disoriented.

She turned and saw me, and her expression went from shock to a kind of guarded skepticism. She said: "Okay, that's weird. But I know exactly what you're going to ask me. And the answer to your first question is 'no', and the answer to your second question is also 'no'. I have three kids."

I grinned at her. The last time she saw me, I had been a tongue-tied 14-year-old moron, deeply infatuated with her for inscrutable reasons, and completely unable to have a proper conversation with a girl. She was assuming I was the same, and that the first thing I'd do is ask her if she was single, and then ask if she'd date me. I was interested in neither.

"Hey, whoah, whoah, whatever you say," I said, still grinning. "I'm just amazed at the coincidence and happy to see you! That's all!"

"Huh," she said, clearly unconvinced.

I noticed she was carrying an armload of books and a notepad. "Hey, if you need any questions answered or help with orientation, just let me know," I said.

"Okay," she said, but her expression didn't change. Abruptly I decided that I didn't even care enough to try and placate her. If she had some kind of chip on her shoulder that would prevent us from being friends, I was content to leave it in place. I felt like laughing out loud at how big of a deal she thought she still was to me, after almost 30 years. I held my laughter back to avoid confusing her or making a scene.

"See you later," she said, and then looked over my shoulder to someone else. "Come on, let's go."

I turned and saw a man, about 30 years old, skinny with curly brown hair, squinting intently at a row of books. "This must totally be her husband," I thought. "Funny, that. I didn't get my gay-dar working until I was in college, so I was working retroactively, but I always had this theory she was gay. Guess I was wrong." To the man I said: "Let me know if there's a particular book you're looking for, and I can help."

He smiled at me. "Thanks!" he said, then scurried around the bookshelf to catch up with Jennifer.

The instructor droned on. I decided to go outside for a walk.

Some time later, I was sitting crosslegged in a large auditorium. The ambient lighting was low and very dim. A movie was being projected on the far wall, making an image some 30 feet high. The walls were cement, which added an annoying reverb to the soundtrack. The carpet was thin and hard, but I had a few blankets with me to soften it.

Students were arrayed all around me, sitting or laying on the floor, in small groups. Closer to the front of the giant room were low tables and chairs, also filled with students. People would occasionally wander in from outside and settle down to watch the movie. Sometimes others would get up and leave.

A woman walked into the building from the door behind me, and threaded through the people on the floor. She sat down just behind me, over my right shoulder. I turned my head away from the film just long enough to note that she was a stranger. "I guess this is just the clearest spot on the floor," I thought, and turned back.

The woman leaned back on her hands, and stretched her legs out, making an exaggerated sigh of pleasure. She moved her left leg to the side as she stretched, so her calf just brushed my folded knee. I could tell it was deliberate. She sighed again, and bent her knee slightly, then straightened it again, rubbing the side of her leg against mine.

I reached out with my right arm, casually, and picked up her leg around the heel, and set it in my lap. Then I began to stroke the muscles in her calf. If she was going to be this familiar with me, I was going to play along. "Besides," I thought. "This is a nice leg."

She sighed deep enough that it almost turned into a groan, then pushed forward with her hands, so she scooted up next to me. From there she brought her right leg around and almost climbed into my lap, leaning her forehead on my shoulder. Her hair was dark and straight. She was wearing some kind of short dress.

She raised her head up so her mouth was near my ear, and hissed, in a rough, urgent whisper:

"I need him to see this."

I couldn't concentrate on the movie any more, but I didn't want to turn my head either, because the woman would definitely try to kiss me as soon as I did. I liked the physical contact, but I was very aware that her motives were totally unknown, and kissing felt too intimate.

"He's outside parking the car," she hissed.

She moved both legs off my lap and then crawled forward over my body, until she was in front of me, facing away. She threw one knee out a bit wider, lowering her ass. Then she reached over her shoulder and pulled the cloth of her dress upward between her shoulder blades, hiking it up onto her back. Her bare ass gleamed in the low light.

"Come on, f@%$& do it," she said, looking back at me. "F@%$& right now. I hate him so much. He's got to see."

I leaned forward onto my hands, bringing my face inches from her, and inhaled deeply. "Huh," I thought. "She's in good shape - about 25 years old I'd guess - and also completely out of her mind."

I went through the scenario briefly in my head. "Say I get freaky with her. She's bound to make a lot of noise. That'll upset everyone here, and then some guy is going to walk in. If the guy is as crazy as this woman is, there's going to be a fight. That's no fun. Actually, now that I really think about it, I'm not even tempted by this. This woman is way more disturbing than exciting."

I got my knees under me, then reached forward with one arm and grabbed one of the woman's asscheeks. She moaned and bent her arms, lowering her face to the floor. With the other arm I reached back and grabbed one of my blankets, then threw it over her whole body. Then I used the first arm to shove her to one side, tangling her in the blanket, and stood up.

"No, he has to see!" she said from inside the blanket, as she thrashed her way out of it.

"Good luck with that, lady," I thought, and walked out of the building.