Early morning, just past dawn, and I am standing by the sea in Brooklyn. Everything is green. The sea is green, the sea-bed is green, the beach is green, the large rocks at the back of the sand are green – it’s like green moss is covering everything. The green waves are crashing a little farther out from the shore than usual, as if the tide is low. I am standing on the beach in the middle of all this green, feeling sex flow throughout my entire being. I am very eager to take off my clothes and masturbate. I am reluctant to, fearing that I might be seen. There are some people occasionally walking past along a walkway next to a Catholic school building about thirty feet away. I can see them as they walk along the walkway, which is like a boardwalk just above the beach. I am looking at them through the branches of a tree. I know that they haven’t noticed me, but I’m afraid they will the moment I’m vulnerable. I am dying to get myself off. I must. I need to. I walk up the beach toward the Catholic school looking for somewhere private. There is an overwhelming silence. I am sensing that people are watching me from the school windows, all of which have their shades drawn, despite it being so early in the morning. Though I am subconsciously certain that I have been seen, I ignore this feeling, certain I am absolutely alone. I see some stairs going down to an outside entrance to the school basement. At the bottom of the stairs is a locked metal door to the basement and a small space outside it, secluded from any view from above. I lean back against the wall, standing, and open up my pants and begin masturbating. My cock is slick and I am using two hands, one to hold it at the base and one to massage it up and down, from the tip to the base. I am panting and moaning a little and steadily opening up to myself, approaching orgasm, lost in myself. At this moment, I look to my side a few feet away and there is a person watching me, standing a little crouched over where a concrete wall used to be, looking at me through a white mask. I cannot tell whether it is a man or a woman; it’s sort of neither, but seeming to be a little more like a man. He is wearing a thin black cape and looking at me, himself surprised and a little skittish. I know that I have two choices at this instant: to cover myself in shame, or just to let go with him watching me. Suddenly I have turned toward him and am pumping my cock harder, and then enter the orgasm, showing him, moaning and looking straight at his masked eyes. Suddenly he runs to me and snaps his mouth around the tip of my cock. I ejaculate into it as he swallows, kneeling in front of me.
(Lucid dream, San Francisco, Circa 4/92)