Apparently I'm in love with Paris Hilton. I didn't know that I was, I didn't think I was, I'm not even sure when it really happened. But apparently I am madly, deeply, in love with Ms. Hilton and, fortunately, she is in love with me. I became aware of this relationship only recently, I guess it started getting serious about four months ago. She showed up at my doorstep unannounced which angered my wife, as you can imagine. She was wearing a white trench coat like in some of the pictures of her on the web. As she stepped inside, music began to play and she dropped the coat, revealing that she was in a light blue bikini. She came across the living room and wrapped her arms around me and we began to dance to the music. Soon enough my clothes were off and I was laying on my back on the couch and she straddled me. I could feel myself getting hard she rubbed her body against mine, and, as she pulled her bikini bottoms to the side to allow me entry, the music stopped and I woke up.
That was the first of several dreams I've had about Paris in the last few months. The strange thing about this is I am not a Paris Hilton fan. Granted, she's beautiful, I have always thought she was beautiful, and I have never jumped on the Paris-hater bandwagon. She's rich, silly, a bit of a lush, not too bright, but, she is stunningly beautiful (did I say that already?). I never watched “The Simple Life” or “House of Wax” or bought her ..uhmm,, music, or followed her “career.” Seriously, I don’t watch E! or Entertainment Tonight even, seriously, I don’t. Stop laughing.
I should clarify when I say that she's "not too bright." She really is rather smart. According to www.thisismoney.co.uk, she is worth approximately $47 million. She has been able to parlay her name, image, sex tape, and willingness to do what it takes to stay in the public eye, into a very successful fragrance company as well as tie-ins to clothes, clubs, and purses. While I think she's made some pretty stupid choices on her drug use and boyfriends, I guess my subconscious has forgiven her.
Last night stream was particularly interesting, it was extremely long and detailed, it stuck with me after I woke up allowing me to describe it here, and it involved her family, and my family, not just my immediate family, but my dad, her dad, her mom some cousins, my brother, her house that looked an awful lot like mine, and I think, a photographer, perhaps even a wedding photographer.
The dream started out as I entered her home on a prearranged dinner appointment. Her family was there and greeted me as if I was a long-lost prodigal son. Her dad came up and gave me a big hug (I have no idea what he really looks like), and told me it was good to see me again. Her mom kissed me on the cheek and took me by the elbow and led me into the dining room. In the dream it was her house, but it looks a lot like the home I grew up in just fancier. I recognize the floor layout and even within the dream I knew what was going on. Paris and I finally got together and I hugged her and held her hand as she walked me to the dinner table and we sat down.
During the dream dinner I saw my brother, got introduced to her extended family, and it seemed as if it might have been a rehearsal dinner. I wasn't sure, however, if it was for our wedding or for someone else's. The presence of my brother at the dinner was notable because he hates Paris. He admits that he wouldn't mind banging her, but she annoys him and he refuses to watch any of the coverage around her life. I asked him why he had such a emotional reaction and he couldn't explain it, he just says he can't stand her.
As dinner ended and the people of the dream receded off into the mist, Paris and I were in a small room, not a bedroom, and it might have been a boat, but we were alone and as she walked backwards and I walked forwards holding her hand our clothes began to disappear.
Our arms wrapped around each other as we reached the back wall of the room. Standing in each other's arms, I began to feel her skin against mine. I ran my hands up and down her back and felt her shiver as my fingertips traced over her ribs and across her shoulder blades. My hands reached the base of her neck I took her hair in my hand and tipped her head back and kissed her on the neck. As this was happening I could feel my body getting hard. I could feel my cock brushing against her stomach, I could feel her hips begin to undulate against my body. I bit fiercely on her neck and began thrusting my hips in time with hers.
Dreams being what they are, we didn't have sex, but the detailed part of the dream kicked in. I moved my hands down her back and took her ass in my hands. They slowly moved down the gentle crack this I spread her wider and wider. As my fingers began to explore her arms wrapped around my neck and she lifted her body weight off the floor and wrapped her legs around me. This gave me full access, touching and feeling her delicate skin and feeling moisture and heat. She orgasmed when I touched the tiny puckered star of her ass. She came in the dream though I did not. She came and came and finally lost strength and I had to hold her up in my arms where she fell asleep.
I woke up breathing heavily though I did not reach the climax of my own in the dream or in real life. But why Paris? Beyond her obvious beauty and her sex tape, I have never felt a connection. But who am I to say? Apparently I am in love with her.