Funny things dreams. Some people say that dreams are a way of seeing the future. I've always wondered about that. Is the dream a premonition of what is to come or does having the dream seed the idea into your mind.
I do know one thing. My dreams sometimes have a better sex life than my real one. Pity that. My dream last night was a case in point. I woke up in the morning and the dream was quite vivid then. Knowing how dreams tend to fade from your memory completely once you start moving around I hastily grabbed a pencil and paper and scribbled a few notes.
A young lady was bending forward across a table. Her shorts or skirt (couldn't tell which she was wearing) was pushed down around her knees, along with her panties. I'm going with shorts because I think a skirt would have been pushed up to her waist. She had a very nicely shaped bottom, a bottom that gleamed white in the overhead light.
I could see she had a glorious mane of red hair that tumbled halfway down her back and that mane told me who she was. Megan, a sometimes baby-sitter that I used to use. Kids are too old to require a sitter these days and I guess Megan had grown past the age of doing that sort of pocket money work.
Now that I thought of it I remembered seeing Megan down the street a couple of days ago, doing some shopping. With hair like hers it would be hard to miss her. That's what probably triggered the dream.
In the dream I came up to her and my hand came around and landed very firmly on that delectable little bottom, with Megan giving a delicate squeak of pain and remorse. I didn't stop at that, of course. I went right ahead and gave her a very nice little spanking.
When her bottom was nicely flushed I stopped the spanking. I also dropped my trousers. She was standing with her legs parted and her pussy on display, and her lips were swollen and pouting, pursed ready for action.
I slapped a hand roughly against her mound, spreading her lips, and she gave a small cry of horror and shock.
"Oh, no," she was softly wailing. "You can't do this. No. Leave me alone."
She wasn't struggling or trying to get away, just standing there, waiting helplessly. My cock slotted into position and I pressed ahead, with Megan giving little lady-like screams of protest the whole time. I'd ignored her protests and just gave her everything I had, repeatedly and with a great deal of vim and vigour. Megan had wailed and protested every stroke, but still seemed to find it reasonable to flex her hips and push to meet my rampaging cock.
I'd finished up in fine style, not noticing if Megan had climaxed or not. Hey, it was a dream. Who cares if a dream lover climaxes? Not me, certainly.
That was when I woke up, with a morning wood hard enough to crack coconuts. Times like that I miss my wife. She'd have known exactly how to deal with the problem.
After that I effectively forgot about my dream, except for those notes, but I was slightly more aware of Megan when I saw her down the street. She was quite a lovely young lady now.
As you'll no doubt guess I was slightly surprised when the doorbell rang one evening and when I answered the door Megan was standing there.
"Oh, Dennis," she said. "I completely forgot you used to live here."
"I still do, Megan," I said dryly. "How can I help you? Seeing you forgot I was here I assume that you're not looking for the girls either, not that they're home."
"Um, actually I'm working for Bryn Mapleton's campaign. I'm going door to door canvassing and telling people why they should vote for Bryn. He's a wonderful man, you know."
I knew no such thing. In my opinion he was an idealistic idiot who had no idea how the real world worked. He had money and that money protected him from the ruinous impact of the policies he espoused. If it was left to him the whole world would be sitting in fields chewing on the grass.
I ignored my opinion of the man and invited Megan in, deciding to give her a chance to convince me otherwise.
* * *
I was jubilant. Most responses to political canvassing ranged from slamming the door in my face rudely, down through politely closing the door in my face, to listening for a few moments and then closing the door in my face. Sometimes they assure me they gave at the office and then close the door in my face. For someone to actually listen to what I say and take the pamphlets I hand out is rare. (Normally I stick the pamphlets in their letter box as I leave.) To be invited in to make my case was a first for me, even if Dennis was only doing it to be kind.
I trotted in happily, already knowing exactly where we were going. Looking around, the place hadn't changed, even though I hadn't been here for a few years.
"So tell me why you think I should be voting for Bryn," Dennis said, and I was happy to do so.
I'd just got started on my spiel when Dennis interrupted.
"Ah, hold on a moment," he said. "I thought Bryn was running for the local council?"
"He is," I said, confused. "Why would you think he wasn't?"
"Well, you've just been saying how he's going to get increased funding for the local hospital, but the local Council don't have any say in that. Finance for Health is handled by the State and Federal governments and they're rather touchy about their prerogatives. I can't see them looking too kindly on a local council trying to tell them what to do."
"Oh. Ah, I'm sure Bryn can work something out," I said rather lamely. I'd known that about Health finances now that I stopped to think about it, but I hadn't been thinking.
I moved rather hurriedly on to Climate Change and how Bryn would ensure that all energy purchased by the Council was clean, green, renewable energy. That's when he stopped me again.
"I thought that the energy companies added a surcharge to houses or businesses that opted to use a hundred percent renewable energy. An additional twenty percent on top of the standard rate that's already rising sharply. Can the Council afford the extra charges without raising rates and can the average householder afford the increase in rates?"
"I'm sure they don't," I said quickly, but he nodded his head.
"Oh, yes. Oddly enough I have some brochures about it right here. I was doing some research into this as part of something I'm working on."
He reached out and took a brochure off the coffee table and handed it to me.
"Page two, cost of renewables," he said, and looking at the brochure I could see he was right.
"Well, I guess Bryn doesn't know that," I mumbled.
"Or doesn't care," said Dennis softly. "He is quite wealthy and it's not his money he's spending. Anyway, don't mind me. Continue with what you were saying."
It was terrible. Every point I brought up he had something to say that contradicted what Bryn was saying. One contradiction too many and my temper flared. I didn't have red hair for nothing.
"If you know so much about what's going on why don't you run for Council yourself?" I yelled. "Then you can have a debate with Bryn and he'll explain why you're so totally wrong."
"Do you know who's running against him?" Dennis asked.
I shook my head. Why would I know? I was working for Bryn and didn't need to know who the losers going against him were.
Dennis smiled and I suddenly had a terrible feeling.
"Who is it?" I asked, hearing a wary caution in my voice.
His smile just got bigger as he inclined his head slightly.
"Oh, god, it's you, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so. I'd love to have a debate with Bryn but he doesn't want one. He's of the opinion that you either agree with his moral wisdom or you are beneath contempt and must be converted to the right way of thinking by having abuse hurled at you."
I lost it.
"Son of a bitch," I yelled at him. "Why did you invite me in if you're his opponent? I've just been wasting my time. I could have spoken to a dozen people during the time I've been in here."
"Maybe, but you can't blame me for that. I know who my opponents are and the people working to get me elected know who I'm running against. They all know. They also know the platform I'm running on and where my platform goes against Bryn's they know the counter-arguments to use, which you plainly did not. Your whole spiel has been along the lines of 'we know what's best for you and your opinion doesn't count.' You can't blame me if Bryn is under-training his people, although that's probably deliberate."
"What do you mean, deliberate?" I was seething.
"If he told you the counter arguments you might run into you might have the common sense to realise that there is a second point of view, and that it makes a lot of sense. Bryn prefers gullible people who don't mind being uninformed as long as he's there to tell them what to think."
He was calling me a gullible fool who was being led around by the nose. What was worse was that he was making me feel like that gullible fool. He had effectively rubbed my nose in some of the crap I'd been spouting and showing me it was crap. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to slap Bryn silly. Fortunately I was too much of a lady to express my feelings with violence. I contented myself with giving him a killing glare.
"Anyway, now that you're here, why don't I explain my policies to you and give you a chance to criticise them? You may come up with an argument I haven't heard before."
After everything that had already happened and he was suggesting I listen to his arguments for electing him? He had to be kidding?
