The Fantasy of Dreams Can Reveal Our Sexual Secrets

This dream excerpt from THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS series uses the magic and myth of mushrooms to explore our sexual fears and possibilities.

9 min readJun 21, 2023

by I. J. Weinstock, author of THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS series and OUR SECRET SEX LIFE: The Key to Humanity’s Destiny.

*THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS* *series includes “Mysteries of Isis,” “Ring of Fire,” “Floating to Paradise,” and “Realm of the Go****ds.”***

I’ve written several books about sex (fiction and nonfiction) to spark an urgently needed conversation about the state of our sexuality. Sex is much more than we realize. Beyond the physical act of procreation and pleasure, sex defines our humanity and shapes our society in profound yet unacknowledged ways.

Due to millennia of patriarchal and religious sexual oppression, we’ve been kept ignorant of sex’s fundamental and consequential importance. Our sexual awakening is one of the keys to healing our society and possibly even saving our world.

My nonfiction book, OUR SECRET SEX LIFE: The Key to Humanity’s Destiny, reveals the secrets we carry between our legs and the hidden connections between sex, society, and survival.

In fiction, however, I can explore the mystery we call “sex” in mythic and fantastic rather than theoretical ways. Dreams, for example, provide a magical opportunity to remember and reimagine our sexual possibilities.

THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS is an epic quest about a man’s initiation into the ancient “sexual mysteries.” And, of course, the fate of the world is at stake.

On the eve of his first initiation, he’s informed that the sex organs have a dual purpose. While procreation is primary, their secondary purpose is to commune with the “Realm of the Gods.”

To attain this “golden phallus,” he must learn to reprogram his desire to ejaculate so that he can orgasm without ejaculation.

Though such ability seems to him like some exotic sexual trick, he’s told it’s basic training. Without it, “you’re just a servant of your sex organ, a carrier of the seed of life. You’ll ejaculate, procreate, and always be earth-bound, never tasting the truth, never reaching the heavens, never communing with the gods.”

The night before his initiation, he has a strange and terrifying sexual dream.

Chapter 21 “God’s Cock” is an excerpt from ***THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS*** *“Mysteries of Isis”*

Once again he was lost in a forest, but this time it was the dead of night and he wasn’t alone. A group of robed monks, carrying torches to light their way, walked in single file through the dark woods. He followed them from a safe distance until they arrived at a moonlit clearing.

Hiding behind a tree, he watched them douse their torches and remove their robes. He was shocked by their moonlit nakedness — they weren’t monks, they were women! A thrill surged through him.

The naked women formed a circle, held hands and sang hymns of thanks for being vessels of the Blood Mystery. This was their moon time and they had gathered to invoke the Moon Goddess.

When the singing ended, the women sank to their knees and began searching the ground as they called out, “Shiva’s Lingam! Shiva’s Lingam!”

God’s cock? he wondered as he watched spellbound.

A triumphant cry arose from one woman who found what she was looking for — a mushroom that, to his amazement, resembled an erect penis!

Acting as if the mushroom was holy, the woman murmured a blessing, then bowed her head to kiss it.

One woman after another found a sacred mushroom on the ground. They also addressed it as “Shiva’s Lingam,” then blessed and kissed it.

But the women became possessed, perhaps by the spirit of the Moon Goddess. What began as reverential kissing, became lascivious licking and sucking!

From his hiding place, he spied on the Moon Goddesses. Some women gently caressed their mushrooms, while others rubbed up against them like cats in heat. Their squeals of delight grew into moans of passion and the clearing echoed with the cries of their desire.

Both fascinated and repelled, he instinctively reached for his rock hard erection and discovered he was naked, too.

One Moon Goddesses knelt on the ground, straddling the mushroom beneath her. Whispering a prayer, she spread the lips of her vagina and lowered herself onto the mushroom as if onto a lover.

He gasped as if she were impaling herself on his cock!

Enveloping the mushroom inside her, she squeezed and savored it to the fullest. Then slowly raised and lowered herself again and again, each penetration deeper than the one before.

All around the moonlit clearing, Moon Goddesses anointed their Shiva Lingams. All night long they blissfully rode God’s Cock, pistoning up and down until, one by one, they cried out in ecstasy as they writhed and spasmed, and finally shuddered to stillness on the ground.

All night long hidden behind the tree, he masturbated to this spectacle, but strangely was unable to ejaculate. While the exhausted women slept, he remained hidden nearby unable to tear himself away. At dawn, when the women were awakened by birdsong, he retreated into the depths of the forest and waited for them to depart.

He returned to the clearing and watched Shiva’s Lingams dry up and shrivel as the sun arced across the sky. By sunset, the slightest breeze turned them into dust.

Then, as often happens in dreams, time sped up. On the new moon, a strange-looking mushroom began to grow in the center of the clearing.

He marveled as each night it grew larger beneath the waxing moon until its marbled stem was as wide as an oak tree and tall as a table. Awed by the mushroom’s size, he thought, “Now that’s more like God’s Cock!”

Days passed and as the moon became full, the mushroom’s head swelled outward to form a round tabletop large enough to seat twelve.

Footsteps in the woods startled him. Once again he hid, but this time it was men who were approaching the clearing from all directions.

They were naked, clothed only in ashes. They were monks, he realized, and he was one of them.

They lived as hermits in caves, gathering food from the bountiful forest and dwelling in harmony with the animals, their days filled with meditation and ascetic practices. But once every twelve years, following an ancient tradition, they gathered in the sacred clearing to welcome the Moon Goddess and make their offering.

The mushroom altar shimmered in the moonlight. Filled with anticipation, he stepped into the clearing and sat on the ground waiting for the other monks to arrive. One after another, they joined the circle.

When twelve monks were seated around the mushroom altar, they began to chant.

As he chanted the secret, sacred words, he inhaled the altar’s intoxicating fragrance. With each breath, his senses sharpened, his heart opened and he felt transported.

As one, the twelve monks rose to their feet and approached the altar in anticipation of Her imminent arrival. The smooth, table-shaped head of the mushroom began to ripple like waves on a body of water.

The chalky, marble-like substance transformed into flesh. Forms began to radiate outward from the center of the altar, revealing the back of twelve heads with long, flowing hair cascading over shoulders, then the hourglass shapes of narrow waists flaring into the peach-swell of twelve hips at the altar’s edge. The Moon Goddess had arrived and Her altar had sculpted itself into the unmistakable relief of twelve women bent over a round table, the swell of their hips creating an undulating wave around the altar’s edge. And precisely where each woman’s vulva would be was a perfectly formed, lotus-shaped, Moon Goddess Grotto.

In awe of the Moon Goddess’s arrival, the monks prostrated themselves on the ground. When they stood their phalluses were erect. Like the other monks, he was filled with the desire to know Her mystery.

The monks began chanting an ancient, devotional love song as they circled Her altar seven times. Then they turned and, with prayers of adoration on their lips, thrust themselves into the twelve Moon Goddess Grottos.

If the mere scent of Her altar intoxicated him, penetrating Her made him delirious. When he withdrew, he turned to his left, took two steps, and made his offering at the next Grotto.

The ritual required that every monk enter each of the Goddess’s Twelve Gates twelve times, making 144 offerings in all. Upon completion, each monk would receive the Moon Goddess’s Ultimate Blessing.

But the ritual was fraught with peril. Each penetration turned the mushroom into flesh. Each penetration filled the woman’s form beneath him with life. Shudders of delight began to ripple down her spine as she pressed back against him to meet his thrust. By the time he’d circled the altar once and entered all twelve Gates, he and the other monks were on the verge of an uncontrollable frenzy.

The rite grew chaotic as monks stopped circling and began thrusting frantically into the Grottos where they stood. As the rite disintegrated, he realized they were completely at the mercy of the Moon Goddess.

Delirious and mad with blasphemous lust, the monks feverishly stroked the voluptuous flesh beneath them.

Straining to satisfy his desire, he stretched himself upon the altar, his head almost touching the heads of the other crazed monks. His eyes were open but unseeing, his vision turned inward, trapped in the vortex of his desire.

He was hopelessly lost! They all were! And there was no escape!

From the depths of his despair arose a chilling realization. The women who’d worshiped the Shiva Lingams had created this demonic altar to obtain the monks’ seed. And every frenzied thrust transformed their seed into a magical elixir. When the women returned, they would harvest their witch’s brew.

As the night wore on, the altar’s intoxication not only inflamed the monks’ lust but made ejaculation impossible. They were imprisoned in a diabolical ecstasy and, one by one, passed out on the altar from exhaustion.

Despite his fatigue, he continued thrusting. Even when he heard the women returning, he couldn’t stop. As they drew near, he saw something that made his blood run cold. One by one, the women reached into their robes and unsheathed their knives…

“Oh God!” he cried, gasping for air. The terror of imminent castration jolted him out of his nightmare.

— from THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS

THE SECRET SEX LIFE OF ANGELS has been described as The Da Vinci Code meets the Kama Sutra. The book’s cover warns — You’ll Never Look at Sex in the Same Way Again!