This dream started like a novel perhaps. A man, a doctor maybe, lived in the valley. Married to a woman who became me. With them lived a friend-servant of the man, very handsome and young. Wife wondered why he was unmarried; thought perhaps there was some homosexual attraction between the two men, was asking her husband if the two had ever discussed sex. This apparently was something that English men, which these were, did not do with the sort of frequency that American males do. As a matter of fact, they had talked about it once, and the husband was supposed to help this man have an orgasm by manipulating him. The wife, me, volunteered to help, but the husband thought she was too good a woman to be used so scientifically. Now this whole thing shifts somehow. It becomes a couple who is living with the doctor and wife. They had been on a walk, and return. It is the wife who needs help, and I and she start exchanging looks which are suddenly all full of desire (she had found out somehow about my wish to help). So we went upstairs to her room (another woman was jealous of  all this and tried to follow us) and tried to lock the door (it was my mother's room), but it didn't lock securely. She embraced me and I no longer felt all the desire I had felt, but sort of thought I was under an obligation to go along a little, since I had given her this impression. I told her the other woman was likely to come in any minute, so I wanted to appear innocent. I was reading an advertising magazine from some towel company and getting all involved in the types of towels and nightgowns they had for sale.