Here be dragons

I'm in a house. It's vry modern, with white walls and honey colored wood flooring, shining. I'm standing at the foot of the staircase, and I can see outside from a long, low window that goes all the way across the wall. to my right there's an open kitchen, in grey, slightly textured resin and shiny chrome, with a black marble counter top and thin, spinnery furniture made out of a gray, dull metal. The kitchen open in the living room, but I can only see part of it; it seem that the house is shaped like an L around a garden. I can make out the corner of a table with a frosted glass top, and part of a white woolly rug. Light is everywhere, spot cleverly hidden along the walls, sun coming from the widows in the wall and in the roof. I need to get out, but Where there should be a front door, the wall is whole. I turn around and start climbing the stairs. There are slowing curling on themself, and lined with potted plants. The ceiling is getting lower and lower, and there's no wall on my left, until I reach the top of the stairs. There's a lot of potted plants here, in the bring sun, and the stairs end in a sort of floorless gazebo.

I can climb out of it, and after a short walk on a wooden beam, I enter an attic with greenhouse walls and a low wooden bench running along them. There's someone here, laying down under a nest of blankets. It's warm but no stuffy in the attic, and the sun and shadows are ideal, making it incredibly relaxing. I tiptoes in, trying no to disturb the sleeper, but he slowly raise on his elbows. He's slim and dark haired, and looks almost cartoony sleepy. I get closer and he shapeshifts, his hair lightening to a silvery blond, his bland face filling with intent. He moves, getting the shadows on his face. I recognize him and stop just shy of reaching the nest of blankets. He smiles and sit up, letting the blankets falls off his laps and showing me that he's naked underneath.

Spoiler for more nudity after the cut...:

And more and more happy to see me. The whole situation makes me laugh and his smile gets larger and larger, like the Chester Cat. I never saw his penis before, and I'm suprised that he's uncut. as I think it the foreskin disappears. As he's longing here, barely moving and smiling, he make me think of a big cat, relaxed and sated, at least for now. I get a little closer to him and sit on the blankets, slightly weirded out but more or less trusting him not to jump me. He stretchs out and take my hand to warp it around his shaft. I pull away, staring at him with disbelief. He laughs, completly silent, and runs his hand on my arms as if to soothes me. I roll my eyes and he suddently grabs me, pulling me in so I'm sitting in his lap. His skin is colder that the room, but not by much; I can feel his sex under my clothes. I push away as he switches his hold from my waist to my wrists and I'm sitting on his thighs. He's still smiling and tilts his head to the side, obviously questioning my reaction. I stop struggling and let him pulls me closer again. I put my hands on his shoulders and he looks almost wondering. After a couple of seconds his face turn predatory, with a strange, playful edge, and his hold my waist with one arm before slipping the other under my dress, pulling my panties aside and helping himself inside me. It's very intense but not overhelming, and after a few seconds it's almost confortable, mostly because neiher of us is moving. He settles himself back on the blankets without letting go my waist, and when I start to thnk I will simply get up and leave, he uses his hand to get me off until overstimulation hits me and I struggle away from him, flailing and unable to stand up. He's laughing again, and I can see my own wetness on his still erect penis. He can't help himself it seem.

But in a way, I get it. He's like a green man, a embodiment of sexual energy. I could call him Eros, but I think I can go without gining him a name; he doesn't need one.

I'm in a sprawling garden, part of a even bigger manor. There are people everywhere; it's a rather posh party, but I'm not sure if it's for a birthday or a wedding. The trees are decorated with red ribbons and lanterns made of glass and forged iron, lighting the paths made of red bricks. The foliages is glossy and shining, the conversation are mutted and I don't know anyone, so I wander around in the garden, getting further and further away from the house. There's a lot of tropical plants around, with big, othersized leafs and exuberant forms tightly contained into flowerbeds with red brick trim. It's getting darker, and I end up finding back the crowd. People are getting seated on cushions in front of a stage carved into a cliff side There's a big red drapes framing the stage, hiding the lightsources and standing out against the dull gray stone. I see my sister in already seated on a cushion, so I go sit next to her, not knowing why everyone is here. We wait as more people get seated, my sister is typing away on her phone and I'm regretting not having mine. People keep arriving and sitting, in a very slow, endless stream. I'm starting to get bored and keep shifting on my cushion, drawing the attention of the man sitting in front of me. He got silvery blond hair falling on his shoulders, and a arrogant smile. He gets up, takes my hand and pulls me on my feet, still smiling. He drags me through the crowd to the left of the stage; there's stairs carved in the rock, going down to a tunnel under the stage. It's almost pitch black in the tunnel, but I can't still see the outline of his silhouette, crowned with those beautiful hairs. He moves his hand to my arm, right over my elbow, holding tight. It makes me feel like running, and he smiles again.

Spoiler for Nope, no running for me:

His fingers dig in my arms and he push me against the wall, his whole body close enough that I can feel him breathes. The wall feels very cold and he's very warm. He slips his knee between my legs and pushes them open, lifting my skirt. I try to grab his wrist and he grab my throat, whispering in my ear that I will behave, then let go of my throat to use his hand to do something more interesting. He's taller that me, enough that I have to stand on my tiptoes, gripping his shoulders to steady myself. My body start to buckles and I have trouble staying silent. He pushes me harder against the wall, breathing in my neck. He brings me to climax and keeps going; it's almost painful.

I stumble out of the tunnel, and the crowd is thining out, people scattering back in the garden. My sister is still here, she gathered more cushions and is laying on top of them, videochatting on a small laptop with a guy I identify as her boyfriend. They are fighting, so I don't stick around. I go back to wandering along the paths, and I meet up with a friend. We walk around a little, and she bring up the fact that I disappeared a little earlier. I tell her why and she don't believe me at all, then point out that she pegged me as more of a car type of girl. It makes me laugh and we reach a sort of round space with carts of colorful, almost cartoony fruits. I pick up a giant mango the size of a beach ball; it's half squashed and my hands get covered in sticky juice. The smell is almost overhelming, and I chuck it in a flowerbed, shaking my hands to get rid of at least part of the juice.

... Well I... Did find the silvery man again? I didn't manage to get lucid but it's something. He's still a jerk

Woke up after last dream at 7 am, went back to sleep.

I'm in the family house with my mother and sister, there's lot of stuff to do to fix it up. the garden is a mess, and the inside isn't in better shape; there's rumble everywhere and the place is basicaly gutted. However, it's full of light, and all the the french windows are open, letting summer heat come in with the light. I open the front door, and there's a group of people in working clothes, her to help fix the house. One of them is vaguely familiar, but the other are a faceless crown men and women alike. I let them in to the living room, where my mother and sister are waiting. We start giving out taskes and I ended up in the garden with the familiar man. We're moving the outside furniture, sofa and armchairs of forged iron, alongside table and chair mae of the same material. The sofa and armchairs are only frames and relatively light, and the chairs are easy. Then it's the table, and it's the heaviest piece. We westle it to the back of the house, close to the empty pool. On this side of the pools the only windows are those of the bedrooms, and nobody is there for now. The man mopes his brow as I strip off my jacket and drop it on the table. We're resting a little before going back to work.

Spoiler for There was a reason he was familiar...:

He walks around to face me and suddently pick me up to pin me down on the table. I bang against the iron and the table drags a little accross the stone flooring; it makes a rumbly sound that seem to run down my spin. The man pulls my thights apart and starts pounding me on the table; he's slightly to thick for confort, and rather rough. As he bend over me, his white-blond hair frames his face and I recognize him from another dream. I start to question what's going on, and the orgasm is building up, making everything shimer.

Suprisingly, I don't wake up; I become lucid instead. I slip off the table and decide to get out of the garden and into the street to clear my head a little. I open the portal and step out. I end up in the street in front of my actual house, and from the corner of my eyes I can see that I'm in front of it. Rather that getting in I turn to the left, to the end of the street. The house next to mine is completly different; now it's a two stories house in white plaster and black logs, with a cute balcony full of bright flowers. The day is ending, and the tiny front garden is full of lights along the gravelled path to the front door. I go in, singing Eli name. He open the door as I reach it and pick me up into a hug. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face against him. The house is full of golden light and fairy lights suspended off the ceiling, and the living room ceiling is all the way up to the roof.

It was just a question of time before things got heated up 'round here... I'm keeping no explicit.

The sky is overcast and the night is falling, giving a gray, eerie atmosphere to the dream. I am in a small ancient garden with gravelled paths gently curving around the lawn, with small shrubs and flowers dotting the place, giving it a pastoral feel, and it's mostly enclosed withing talls gnarly trees that looks like oaks. To my right is a small, free form pool; the water is pristine and looks cold, and close to it is a path made of irregular, hand carved limestone stepstones rather than gravels. This path curves slowly to a stone platform with a tomb or a flat altar on it; it looks old, weathered but well-kept, like the rest of the place. I walk to the platform, laughting as someone stroll behind me. I reach the stone platform and he grab me, pulling me up on the altar and holding me down on it. I'm on my back, not laughting anymore as he pulls me close and pin down one of my thigh with one of his knee, and he is the one who chuckles when I realize his intent and freeze up. His face is obscured by shadows, his hair are pale almost white blond, and long enough to brush against his shoulders and frame his face. over him I can see the first stars of the night sky, but the light is still gray and shallow, like there is no setting sun. The stone is cold and coarse under me, I can feel it through my clothes, and my breath is really short, equally from anticipation and fear, in fact, I feel like I'm drowning in adrenalin, every sensory input amped up to the max. He is slightly too thick for confort, and I can't help but squirm.

I woke up soon after.
He made a couple of comments I won't be retranscribing here.
I still wondering how the hell I didn't wake up as soon as he had me trapped, because everything felt as life-like as it gets.