Military porn star

I had a really long dream with an involved plot.  And now all I can remember is that I was at a family reunion and ended up as the ad hoc mentor to my cousin who had been in the military a long time.  She was queer but having gone from her fundamentalist family straight into the service, was only just coming out, now, at 43.

For the reunion we were all housed in a rustic Kansas farmhouse.  The toilets didn't work so in the middle of the night you had to choose between peeing on the floor outside of your room or going outside.  Either option was acceptable but women were encouraged to choose the indoor option for safety reasons.  Every morning it was my chore to get up and clean puddles off the old wood floor.

My cousin and I shared a double bed.  In the corner was a rocking chair in which, every night, a different porn star sat, still as a post, dressed in military fatigues.  Neither of us knew the purpose of these women.  I thought they might be a gift, to ease my cousin into the new queer chapter in her life.  She thought they were a final warning from the military to look but don't touch.  Her point during the ongoing argument about whether or not we could touch them was that there was far more evidence to support a military-industrial anti-lesbian conspiracy than the existence of a benevolent elder queer in our family.  She routinely won this argument, so we would just get into bed and watch them, during the long minutes before sleep.

The women in the corner were beautiful and slutty and intimidating all at once.  I tried to ask them questions but they wouldn't answer.  Instead they just stared back, unblinking, enigmatic, and still as statues.