My Dream About Francesco D'Macho

Finally I had a dream about Francesco! Hooray! Okay, but you might think it was kind of boring (as if any dream about FDM could be boring!!!).

So last night, before I went to bed, I was surfing around on StagHomme studios, like a good girl (?) and having a bit of trouble with the site, but leaving positive comments nonetheless because I mean wow, how overwhelmingly terrific is the new site’s content, when I received an email from Francesco and Damien asking if was having trouble with their new site. Now I ask you, how nice of them is that? Isn’t that sweet? They said that they could tell from my comments that I was having some trouble and could they help me out? I replied that I would try again in the morning. So off to bed I went.

Then I had the most pleasant dream. I dreamed that I was at a board meeting of StagHomme Studios in NYC. I took the train to get there and it was in a downtown high rise building. The conference room had an oval table which I was seated at the end of. Two gorgeous young executives, a male and a female entered the room and sat on either side of me. They whipped out folders with story boards of new video ideas for Stag TV and gave me copies so that I could follow along. I felt in the way and got up to let them sit side-by-side. I moved to a more middle position at the table. I noticed that they looked all dewy and thought it was the cosmetics they were wearing.

I was entranced by their story boards and the bright colors and content of the new idea; of course I don’t recall any of it right now. But while I was totally absorbed by them, Francesco entered the room with an older male and they were speaking quietly in Italian and quickly sat down at the other end of the table so as not to disturb the meeting in progress. They also had the story boards and then listened along. I was respectfully quiet as a church mouse during the entire meeting.

Francesco was wearing a v-neck sweater (not nearly as low as the one in the photograph above) in winter white cashmere in a very fine knit and coffee brown slacks with a knife edged crease. His brown Italian leather loafers were shined to a mirror. The sweater showed off every muscle he has to great advantage. I just wanted to go and pet him. But, somehow I resisted. His hair was longer on top, even curling, and he struck me as so youthful with his bright blue eyes. He was clean shaven and had the dewy make up on too. His lips looked so soft and kissable.

He took his workers to task for every detail of the project quietly and it was so manly and sexy I thought I would die. Then I woke up. I sure wish I could control when I wake up.