Fruit-evermore

[dalumat]

I dreamed I was squeezed against Kristine Hermosa, sitting on a picnic bench, with a view of a quiet U.P. sunken garden and a sky that's alternately blue and magenta. We were whispering silly sweetnesses, giggling, while sharing on a bowl of soup. I began stroking the length of her shampoo-commercial hair when some guy, an asungot, appeared and asked me, Which do you think is more beautiful: her hair or the soup? Kristine looked at me, anticipating a romantic reply. Then I said, the soup. She laughed heartily like a girl in love. I felt I was too, because she was beautiful.

If I could have dreams like this, which is rare but once in a while, then I know that straight guys have gay dreams.