*edit*  He didn't have any tattoos in this dream. 

God, I've got to be crazy to write about this shit.  I hope not to offend any fans.

Moving on.  Had a dream I was outside a white house, with white pillars.  Blue sky, green grass, and clutter outside the house.  The door to the place was open.  There was a bit of junk on the porch, and clutter inside, visible.  Big cube shaped objects, like appliances, made up the majority of the clutter.  I was needed in the house.  For what, I don't remember.  Business of some sort.  The place would also serve as a temporary shelter.  Outside the door, I met a tall, large, broad-shouldered man with long jet-black hair, wearing black jeans and a dark green (possibly military) tee.  In hindsight, I have a feeling he was moving in.

It was, actually, Peter Steele that I met in this dream.  He was formal when we met.  The meeting was brief.  Some entities behind me needed his attention more than I.  I nodded at him and went into the house ahead of them.  I was directed to a room where I could change clothes.  Because of the clutter, the door would not shut all the way.  It was left open a crack.  I was assured by Steele and his entourage that no one would disturb me during the change.  Everyone apparently knew better.  There was a sense that he would have been short with anyone who dared disturbed the changing rooms while anyone occupied them, and irate had it been a woman who had been disturbed.  There was actually a sense of chivalry about it, a sense that anyone caught trying to sneak a peak would have their ass beat out of principle, and this was common knowledge. 

Still, in paranoia and sheer curiosity, I kept peeking *out* of the open crack in the insecureable door that left me feeling vulnerable.  Of course, every time I looked out, there was no one is sight or earshot, and no one peeking in as I feared.  So I began to take off my clothes to change into the outfit that I would need on to perform whatever work it was that I would be doing.  I got my shirt and bra off, and heard something outside.  I covered my nipples with my arms and again peeked out, wide eyed.  Steele was walking into the room across from me, which was another bathroom/dressing room from what I could tell.  The one I was in was more of a vanity or makeup room than anything.  He had is back turned to me as he walked away.  He stripped his shirt as he walked, and so I caught a view of black hair falling back into place against a broad backdrop of white muscular backside.  I had suddenly become the voyeur I had so feared just a moment ago.  He turned around, and I thought for sure he'd catch me watching in that moment.  He looked off, then up, and looked anywhere but toward the crack in the door.  He then shut the door to his dressing room as much as it would shut, blocking most of my view of him.  I looked away and sighed relief.  I tried to stop peeking out, but I couldn't keep myself from checking to see if someone was watching me. 

Across the way, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Steele was doing the same.  He may have been watching to make sure no one was watching him, but I had a feeling he was looking out to make sure no one was trying to watch me.  His gaze deflected my own when I thought he might be looking my direction.  This strange game of peekaboo lasted until he caught me looking.  What I was seeing was stunning; but I was still overwhelmed with a feeling that I could not apologize to him fast enough. 

He came over to the door I kept peeking out of, wearing black jeans and black underwear that was visible above the top of the jeans.  I covered myself.  I didn't know what to expect.  I know I wasn't expecting him to talk me into bed with that low voice... but that's what happened. 

I was lead, half-covered, to a bed upstairs in the house.  I dropped all cover and crept onto the bed.  He got on the bed, and I laid on my back beside him.  He laid on his side beside me, propped on his right elbow.  He reached out with his left hand and began to finger me.  He slipped one in and out, tickled the top wall just short of the spot.  Wasn't ready for it.  I stopped, caught my breath, relaxed, and let him do it.  He pulled the moisture out and drew his finger over my clit, painting it with the wetness he'd milked from inside me.  He caught it between two of his fingers and pushed it against me.  He drew it upwards, far as it would go, and let it slip back into place slowly, forcing it to rub on all sides against the rough skin of his fingers.  He put pressure back onto it and rubbed it in a circle.  I started to buck.  He relinquished his hold on my clit, and pushed a finger inside me.  He started to move his hand and wrist in circles as though he was trying to stir me.  He was firm, and the pressure was the most excellent feeling I've ever experienced in a dream.  I wouldn't mind doing this again sometime.

That's all of the dream that needs be shared.  Except perhaps my waking thoughts, of slight social embarrassment at having such a dream of the recently deceased.  But at the same time, there should really be no shame in having such a dream.  I've had (and published) many similar and even more explicit dreams of both the living and the fictional.  It's just odd to me that I've never dreamed of him until now, so soon after he departed this world.  I hope those who are survived by him do not find my publication of the dream distasteful. 

More importantly, wherever you are, Lord Steele, I hope you are enjoying your new home.

~GW3D

July 22

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Last night I dreamed I had a starship.  I was in an underground castle.  It was home.  There was a stone staircase carved in a spiral into the cavern, native stonework all around.  I was at the botton of the stair, and I saw one of my uncles come down the stairway.  He was nude, grinning, and more evil looking than in life.  He went past me.  He went down the hall and started yelling at my aunt, his wife.  I never saw her.  They yelled back and forth.

I got on my starship to get away from that mess.  Then I was on someone else's ship as a crew member.  They flew too close to a black hole, so I beam evacuated everyone aboard to my ship.  Then I had the ship beam aboard any other living thing, and then I had it beam out all the cargo to a neutral point in space where I could pick it up and keep it for myself.  Possession.  9/10 of the law.

My crazy plan worked.  I then dreamed that my dad was reading one of my stories.  I walked away.  Shaun-P was online bothering me, which was unusual.  I was still trying to write a story, and he was keeping me from that to tell me he had a girl with an exotic name and couldn't flirt with anyone else.  Sorta like he was warning me and rubbing it in at the same time even though we've never flirted before and I'd never considered it.  Then, i ended up invited to some sex chatroom that exploded with yaoi.

At the end of the dream, my dad tells me he likes my stories. 

My best friend in the entire world had a Nine Inch Nails related dream.  Here it is transcribed, as originally seen in her facebook account.

Here's my NIN dream: NIN was having a 3 day concert sponsored by Walgreens in Ft. Smith. So John had to help with a lot of random crap so I bought a ticket since John was going to be there anyway. When the concert started Trent was trash talking Walgreens on stage. Me and John yelled (at the same time) "That didn't stop you from acepting them as a sponsor!!!" and b/c it was a dream we were louder then all the cheering fans. We were both mad b/c if Trent didn't like how Walgreens made money, then he shouldn't have taken the "blood money" for his own use. Furthermore, John was slaving himself and working 3 consecutive double shifts just for Tren so his stupid concert went well, and we didn't like the fact that he was trash talking walgreens after John (a walgreens rep) did all that work for him.