22 December 2009, 13:17 P.M. CST.

I had a dream about a friend of mine last night.
He was sitting in this bathtub with a girl that I despise, and she was naked and he was shirtless. They made a weird symbol together with their hands, and then began kissing.
Then they shifted and suddenly his pants were open and she started giving him head.
It focused on his face, and then it skipped ahead like a break in a tape and he was panting, saying "No more, no more."
She had cum all over her face.
Then he looked directly at me and said, "In celebration of the Goddess, and her 18th birthday." He jerked his head toward the panting, naked girl in his lap.

Then the dream shifted. He was in different clothes, pulling me along a row of outdoor shops and trinket stands in a dirty street.
He grinned at me and pulled me into a grimey shop to our right.
The people working there knew him. "Hey! How you doing?"
The conversation became mumbled and I couldn't hear what they were saying to him, but the proprietor of the shop kept looking at me with this smirk on his face. I stood behind my friend, nervous.
One of the girls working there jumped the counter and touched my arm, smiling.
"He's a good one," she whispered. She handed me a jar of long, yellow candy sticks. "Break them in half."
So I began to break them carefully in half. One, two sticks. My friend called my name.
I looked up to find he and the shop owner sharing a rather meaningful look. "Tie this for him," the owner said, pushing a plastic bag across the counter. I looked at him and pushed the third stick of candy between my teeth to keep my hands free and walked to the counter beside my friend.
I tied it, glancing between the two men and finding only a knowing look. The girls behind the counter also shot my friend the same look. My friend smiled. "Good, very good."
I'm back against the wall, lost in my own thoughts as I stand there breaking yellow candy sticks in half. Next thing I know, my friend is pushing a bag up to my face. "Take some," he says, smiling.
I reach in the bag and pull out one of the many pitted cherries in there. He laughs. "Why not more? It's fun to break them off."
I grab a few more and pop them into my mouth. He does the same. He chews once, and then kisses me. I close my eyes, and he chews again, tipping my head back so that the juice falls into my mouth. He doesn't let me go until I swallow it. I can't place the taste. It tasted sweet, like cherries, but also bitter. "Good, very good," he says.
He goes back to talk to the shop owner, and I grab another handful of cherries, listening to them pop as I pull them off of whatever they are stuck to in the bag. The two girls behind the counter jump it and slide down to the floor, beckoning me to sit next to them. One wears a tattered, purple dress. It's short and almost Victorian. The other, darker skinned girl wears a blood-red dress that's very dirty. It's long, but there's a rip up the side of the skirt. They begin to say something, light in their eyes. "He is..."

I wake up.