The Black One Was Prettier

I dreamt that I met two young women on the street of my hometown, in front of the jail, one Black and one white. The Black one prettier. I wanted her.

So, I asked for their phone number, which I assumed was one. They were on bicycles and I on foot. The Black one rode on the sidewalk and I steered for her, which was effectively an opportunity to feel and massage her leg. (I guess I'm not very gay in my dreams.)

I could hardly hear and clearly write their phone number, but I managed. I remembered I couldn't meet them immediately because my best friend of old (now severed cold) was waiting for me. So, we parted, but I still hoped to sex with the Black one.

For some reason neither of them could take very well.