It was really an intense dream, given that it is midnight and I am awake (it wasn't a nightmare). It was about the Beatles being at my house, in my room on a Sunday night. My room wasn't as it really is. It had a very tall roof and it had windows near the roof, though I think that the usual ones were also there, though I didn't see them. The room was almost dark and barely lit by some indirect lighting which I don't know where it came from. Looking at it from the front (if one can say that), John was on the bed, Ringo on his right (my left) under the desk, lying on the floor, Paul was on John's left side (though I think I only knew that he was there and didn't see him) and George was exactly on my left. The dialogue was long, but not about something concrete. The most interesting thing about it was that we agreed to have a "marijuana session" right there on Monday night; secondly, we talked about their record which we were hearing, in particular about one song (the record player was between George and Ringo, on the desk). It was a song that I had heard before, or at least I had heard about it (I have never done it because it doesn't exist, but in the dream, it did) and John was telling me to remember the skirts that were mentioned in the dream, but I didn't understand him and I asked George how to say "skirt" in English, but he didn't answer me. Then I remembered, but it didn't make sense. During their stay I made love to an aunt of mine (which was quite normal for them); they were indifferent to it. I only know that it went very fast. I was lying on the floor on my back and the aunt was on top of me (I really had an ejaculation, because I was lying on the bed and probably the friction on the bed excited me; usually it is uncomfortable for me to sleep in that position). Then they had to leave. The stairs of the house (we were not on a ground floor) were where the bathroom is and they were old in style and it kind of opened at its base; that is, it became broader at the bottom, and from there one went out on the garden in front of the house where there was a small cement pathway. The dream ended there. They were going to their hotel and I had to take them, though at one point I thought I would ask them to stay here to sleep, but I didn't say anything because I was afraid of my mother's reaction. Two more things: they were indifferent towards me and were simply minding their own business at that point in time and I felt the need to tell this to my closest friends and invite them for the next day (I thought of several of them).