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My eyes flew open at the same time I gasped for breath, the visions from the dream fading to my subconscious. Again, he came to me again, and made returning to reality a trial. More and more I've been looking for excuses to sleep, which doesn't concern me at all. Why forsake the beauty of such rich encounters for the mundane?
I lifted my hand to touch my slightly trembling lips, still able to feel the pressure of his mouth there. Excitement surged through my body, and I moaned softly. My hands curled into fists around my covers, imagining their softness was not cotton but the silky feel of his hair. A teasing strand caressed my cheek this time, and I could still feel it as surely as I felt his hands on my breasts, his breath in my ear, his flesh united with mine. I covered my mouth to suppress the cry of pleasure that wanted to escape due to the intensity of the memories. I considered them memories now, not mere dream images. No dream can ever make one feel like I do now…
At length I sat up in bed, taking note how my sleep shirt was pushed up nearly to my breasts. It wasn't unusual for me to wake up in such a state now, and seeing my clothes rumpled gave me distinct happiness. It meant on some level he had been in bed with me, not just a figment who came to me at night. Even the sheets looked as if someone had pulled them off the corners of my bed, and my pillows were shifted to accommodate two, not just one.
I stood up and yawned, then proceeded toward the writing desk beside the window. After every encounter I wrote it down with as much detail as I could remember, which meant either long passages or very short ones, depending on what happened. I knew that this one would not only be long, but very descriptive as I opened my journal and turned to a fresh page. The things he did, the way he made me feel…in no time at all I was busy writing, smiling at every remembered detail.
*****
I opened my eyes to familiar surroundings, feeling a smile of anticipation coming to my lips. The bed was large, draped in covers of deepest red and made of the softest materials. I ran my hand across the surface, amazed by how real everything felt even though somewhere in my mind I knew it was a dream. The room was dimly lit, creating a romantic atmosphere that appealed to me. Subtle shadows played across the walls, the drawn canopy on the left side of the bed, the floor. In the distance I could hear music, a haunting melody that I could not define but made my body tremble. I was alone at the moment, as each encounter always began, and I sat up to wait.
I hugged my knees to my chest, looking out into the opening of the canopy with a smile. Long ago I learned he had a love for surprise, simply because it heightened my desire for him. If I didn't know better I'd say he was a tease the way he sometimes stayed just out of arm's reach, those eyes of his watching my every move.
Suddenly I was aware I was no longer alone, and my breath caught in my throat. A hand slid up my right arm with slow grace, the fingers gently pushing away strands of my hair. His other hand snaked around my waist, reaching up to brush against my left breast, and I felt him lean toward me, his chest pressing against my back. I released my breath when he pressed a kiss against my ear.
"So…we meet again," he said in that husky voice of his, and involuntarily I pressed against him, closing my eyes as I absorbed the feel of him. The hand nearest my breast moved again, this time slipping under my shirt to touch the flesh beneath. I shivered in pleasure as his skilled hands softly toyed with my n****e. I moved against him in response, leaning my head back in open invitation for his kisses. I heard him chuckle softly before all at once his lips grazed my cheek, the outline of my jaw, before pressing a kiss to my temple. His fingers gently closed around the side of my neck, and I obediently tilted my head to the side. The hand at my breast continued to work its magic, and my heartbeat escalated. I could feel my body responding to his touch all over, and I felt like screaming if he didn't do something.
When I felt his right hand slip down the collar of my sleepshirt, I arched against him, moaning in unashamed pleasure. Oh, how he did torment my senses so! Those hands cupped my breasts, squeezed them gently, before sliding down my torso to my waist. I lifted my arms, circling them around the back of his head to bring him closer to me. Strands of his hair tickled my arms, adding to the wondrous sensations he already created. I pulled in a breath when a hand slipped past my waist to rest at the junction of my thighs. Two fingers rubbed the outside of my panties slowly, and I felt myself growing moist at this. Suddenly I was no longer content to let him tease me until I was dizzy. I wanted him to feel the same burning need I did, I wanted to see his eyes hazy with desire.
I turned around then, looking up into his features. They were mostly shadowed, but his eyes were as bright as day. They regarded me with mild surprise, then with glowing anticipation. A smile worked the corners of his mouth as my hands slid up his naked chest to rest at his shoulders. He said nothing, nor did I expect him to. He rarely spoke when we first met, for his caresses did all that for him. He had made me cry out more times than I could remember, and now I wanted to hear him. I needed to hear him.
First I traced the outline of his face with a fingertip, running it down the contours before moving inward to touch his lips. I explored his face with my hands, allowing my fingertips to memorize what my eyes could not. I felt his gaze on me, and when I looked up I saw desire there. Desire for me, desire to be touched by me. I was happy to oblige him.
I gently pushed him down on the bed, then straddled him . I could feel his excitement between my legs, and I moved slowly over him. The smile did not waver on his face, but I felt his body tremble slightly. I pulled off my shirt, tossing it aside before leaning over to kiss him. His lips met mine with savage passion, and I gasped against his mouth. His hands came up to take hold of my waist, his fingers applying pressure to my back. I lay down on top of him, stretching my legs over his as his hands worked their way up to my head. He lifted my hair away from my neck, then broke free from the kiss to turn his attention to my neck. I closed my eyes as he trailed feather kisses on the side of it, then moaned when he nipped at the skin with his teeth. I could sense his growing excitement as surely as it were my own, and I pulled away. He stared up at me, his face flushed, but still smiling.
I kept my eyes locked with his as I moved off him. My hand ran down the length of his chest until it rested at his inner thigh, and I saw him take a deep breath. My smile grew wider, then I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him as softly as he did me. His eyes fluttered closed, and he moaned softly. I caressed him this way for what seemed like forever, simply enjoying his reactions before he grabbed my wrist. I looked over at him, realizing that if I touched him much more he'd reach climax. With a coy smile I uncurled my fingers from around him, and stretched out on the bed. He was over me instantly, his mouth an insistent pressure on my lips as he situated himself between my legs. I gasped in delight at feeling his fingers slip past my panties to touch me delicately. One finger ran up and down the opening of my v****a before it slid inside. A second finger followed, thrusting in and out slowly as I writhed beneath his body, beneath his kisses. I dug my fingernails into his bare shoulders, indicating I wanted him. He pulled me into a sitting position, his lips still firmly closed over mine, and I felt him tug my panties down. He moved forward, and all at once he was inside me, a firm, warm sensation that sent shivers of pleasure throughout my body. He released my mouth at last, staring into my eyes. In them I saw blazing passion, which echoed in his statement.
"You belong to me," he whispered. I coiled my arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of me.
"I am yours," I replied. He gave me a smile, then began to move inside me again. I held fast to him, closing my eyes I as rocked with him. His upper body was leaning over mine, my breasts pressed against his chest, and I heard his sharp intakes of breath with each movement he made. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. He smelled faintly of musk and sweat, he tasted of wine when he kissed me, and I wondered why I never realized this before. Surely I would have remembered such things…
I cried out as my pleasure in him reached its peak, and I shuddered beneath his body. Still he moved above me, wanting to bring me to the brink again and again. The sensation of our joined flesh brought tears to my eyes, and I was weeping when I climaxed a second, third, and fourth time. By now his body was covered in a sheen of sweat, giving his skin a strange, glossy glow due to the pale light overhead. His thrusts increased dramatically, indicating to me that he was close to climax. I gripped his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his waist, and arched against him in preparation. All at once he cried out, his body jerking as he spilled his pleasure deep inside me. I held onto him as he climaxed, looking up at him through hazy eyes. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and some droplets of sweat trailed down the end of his nose to fall to my belly. I reached up to brush back some hair that had fallen over his brow, wanting an unobstructed view of his eyes.
At length he opened them, staring down at me with such devout passion I felt like weeping anew. I was desperately in love with him, my phantom lover, and I could see he was just as in love with me. He touched the side of my face gently, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I smiled warmly at him, feeling as if I were on air.
"That's it…smile for me. Your happiness is paramount to me," he whispered, the huskiness of his voice changed to one of sincerity. I cupped either side of his face, feeling the tears escape the corners of my eyes. He was so beautiful, but unreal…and I gathered him closer to me in a sudden moment of fear. I would wake soon, and he would be gone. No! I didn't want to wake up alone. I wanted to open my eyes and be in this room, in this bed, with him forever.
"I love you so much," I confessed into his ear, crying again. I felt him slide out of me, then he sat up, taking me with him. He held me close, rocking me gently as I wept. It was the first time I had wept after we made love, creating an oddity in what had become routine encounters for us. Did he sense it too? I stared into his eyes after he pulled away, searching them for some indication that he felt the same. And then I saw a tear roll down his cheek, surprising and saddening me more. Yes, he knew. He was a dream, but he knew. He felt my sorrow as if it were his own.
"Please…tell me your name. I want to know it," I asked in a whisper. He gave me a small smile that did nothing to chase the sadness from his eyes.
"My name is deep in your heart. You'll remember it when we meet again," he assured me. Again…yes, tomorrow night. When I returned to his arms, I would remember. I smiled at him, my heart warming in this knowledge. I kissed him gently, my body reacting to his hands when they began exploring my flesh again. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, wanting nothing more than to cherish these moments forever. Before long my body craved his again, which he seemed to understand. He laid me back down, pausing to meet my gaze. The words I knew yet had not heard from him echoed in those alluring eyes, eyes that spoke of unconditional love, and of desire. I caressed his cheek with a hand, smiling fondly at him. "Love me again," I pleaded. He leaned over to kiss me deeply, so deeply it left me breathless, and a moment later he pulled away. He settled his head near my shoulder, turning so that he was whispering directly into my ear. "I will, sooner than you think," he replied. He then pressed something into my hand and kissed me again. I felt his warmth slipping from me, and knew instinctively I was waking up. I tried to resist this natural impulse, yet he still fled from my grasp. Moments later I was in my own bed, with nothing but memories.
*****
I placed my pen down, the happiness of waking up from such a vivid experience replaced by the remembered sorrow. I had confessed I loved him without thinking twice, but now I felt more alone than ever before. He was my dream lover, a being who came to me at night to shower me with the sort of affection I didn't think I'd ever receive in reality. That thought alone drove me from my desk to my bed, where I flung myself down on it and wept. It wasn't fair. Why did such a wonderful man have to exist only in my dreams?
In that instant I remembered the last thing he said to me. What did he mean by that? Was he to visit me should I nap today? Everything was so unclear. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling as I dropped my arms at my sides. My right hand hit something sharp hidden in the covers, and at feeling it I gave a gasp of surprise. It felt like the object he had given me, although I had no knowledge of what it was. I sat up, pulling the covers aside to reveal a gold necklace adorned with a charm that was longer than it was wide. A gem that looked like an emerald was set in the center of it, which sparkled in the light. I lifted the necklace gently, letting the chain slide over my fingers as I admired it. Yes, this was what he had given me. I was sure of it.
And then, much to my surprise, a hand covered mine, forcing me to look up. I found myself staring into the eyes of my dream lover, and I was at a loss for words. He smiled fondly at me, obviously as taken by the fact we were meeting for real as I was.
"You're real…?" I breathed in shock.
"I was always real. Your heart has come to the truth of it at last. I have been waiting for this for ages," he said softly. I continued to stare at him, still amazed by this revelation, when everything made sense. His name came to mind at last, and I was about to whisper it when he placed his fingers over my lips. They were as warm and gentle as in my dream.
"Let me hear my name spoken in the throes of passion," he whispered, his eyes taking on the familiar husky glint. I nodded, then gave him a smile. As he pressed his soft, real lips against mine I closed my eyes. There would be no need to write about this in my journal.
 nenou · Wed Mar 19, 2008 @ 05:05am · 0 Comments |
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