Thursday, January 31, 2013

A Valentine Dream


I am alone. I have family, but they are not always around. What I do not have is a significant other - one to hold, kiss, caress – one with whom I share my dreams. So my days are filled with writing, cooking, cleaning – the sameness of my life. There is one that I think about, long for – dream about, but he is not here.

One hour bleeds into the next with very little to distinguish one day from another. Most of the time my solitary existence is tolerable, I have ways to entertain myself. Weekends are hard, nights are harder, but Valentine’s Day is the worst. The whole concept of the day is one where a woman is shown by a man that they are special, desired – worthwhile. I want to belong to someone.

I won’t be getting anything from the object of my desire this Valentine’s Day. I know that – I don’t expect it.

Valentine’s Day came, it wasn’t totally unpleasant. I got some work done. I prepared dinner for a neighbor. I watched a good movie on television, but there was nothing delivered to my door, no special phone call – no card in the mail.

I managed to push all that from my mind during the routine of the daylight hours, but when darkness fell and I was alone – the reality of my loneliness was magnified.

My bed is big; I only take up a fraction of its expanse. When I feel very lonely, I hug the pillow and if my erotic writing has aroused me, I do have a toy to take the edge off my sexual frustration. But what I miss most is the heat of a nearby body – the slide of his skin on mine – the privilege of touching his face, slipping my hand into his.

After much tossing and turning – staring at the stained glass window by my bed – I finally settled down enough to sleep. I don’t think I had been asleep very long before I was awoken by the bed moving just a tiny bit. Someone had placed their knee on the bed and the pressure of their weight made the mattress give. I was too drowsy to panic, so I held out my hand and you took it.

Instantly, my heart leapt. I didn’t have to be introduced to you – every cell of my body recognized you. Even in the darkness I knew your face, your touch.

“Hello, Baby,” you whispered. “I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’ve wanted you so long” My words were all the invitation you needed to hear. You came to me – covering me, capturing my lips, inhaling my breath – our tongues tangling as you claimed me for your own.

I felt my nipples peak and I arched my back, seeing contact with your warm body. A whimper of need escaped my lips and you rewarded me by skating your fingers down my middle till you were rubbing the sensitive flesh between my thighs. “Please,” I begged.” I spread my legs – waiting.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

You chuckle as you nuzzle your lips against my collarbone, I strain toward you and you seem pleased with my response. As you gently bite my neck, you slide your fingers into my pussy, massaging my clit, spreading my cream from end of my slit to the other – I moan in ecstasy.

“Let’s see how tight you are.” That was all the warning I received before you pushed two fingers up inside of me, setting up a rhythm designed to drive me crazy with desire.

“I need you.” I wouldn’t even say your name aloud, I was afraid to disrupt the fantasy. So many times I had rehearsed this moment, so many nights I had prayed for you to come – I wanted to do nothing that would break the spell.

“Roll, over.” You are dominant. I am submissive. You are man. I am woman. I obeyed.

“I love your ass.” You fondle and caress, molding the shape of my derriere. Tingles of excitement sparkled through my veins when you nipped the tender flesh of my bottom, scraping your teeth – nibbling, making me tilt my ass in the air, presenting myself like a mare in heat. “Spread your legs.” I comply. “Wider.”

I open myself to you and you throw back the covers, making a place for yourself – your proper place. My fingers clasp the sheet and I know my knuckles are white; I’m desperately trying to hold on to every delicious second. “Oh, Yes!” I can’t help but exclaim as you pop my bottom and run your hand once more through my aching, hungry heat.

I tremble with anticipation – AH! – at last, you tease me- just the head of your cock pushes inside of me. The stretch is exquisite – the burn is what I have craved. I push back, seeking more. You place your hands beside my head, one on each side of my pillow. Slowly – slowly – you push in, bucking your hips. I grind back, desperate for more. “More, more, more” I chant.

“Say my name,” you demand.

I whisper it.

“Say my name,” you command.

I shout it.

With all the power and passion you possess, you take me – plunging, thrusting, jarring my body – making the whole bed move. It felt so good! The moon came from behind a cloud, letting its cool rays filter through the gold and bronze beveled glass. I raise up, looking over my shoulder – I just had to see your face.

I’ll never forget – never. You are so beautiful. The ecstasy on your face – the pleasure that you were receiving from my body will stay with me for the rest of my days. You noticed me looking – you smiled, leaning forward to cup my breasts, milking my nipples. And when you did, the orgasm started. It was powerful – an explosion of heat and pulsating bliss. My pussy closed around your cock – rhythmically – pulsating and fluttering.

I heard you moan – growl – saying my name. And then I felt it – the rush of liquid heat that flooded me, the life-giving essence of your body’s response to mine. You kissed a line down my back – tiny, butterfly kisses. “Thank you,” you whispered.

I turned in your arms, seeking your kiss.

You weren’t there. You never had been.

It was a dream. You were my pompatus – my dream lover.

I rolled over, hugging myself. I pray your name. A tear drifts down my cheek.

I am alone.
Here is a dream scene from Forget Me Never – I guess it’s a fantasy of mine – I seem to deal with it often enough.

Sleep came and so did the dreams. But they were good dreams this time.  Savannah curled into a small ball and gave herself over to the memories . . .

Of being held. . .

Of being loved. . .

Of being with Patrick. . .

The bed gave and she felt her body give to the pressure, moving toward it instinctively.  Automatically her hands reached out for him.  He was here.  She had waited so long.  “Patrick.”

Joy.  Pure joy.  Her body recognized him.  His hands moved over her skin like life giving water over the desert.  With a sigh of unadulterated happiness she nestled close to him.  His body was warm and so familiar to her. 

“Give me your kiss, Savannah.”

She opened her arms and he was there.  In the moonlight she could see him – so dear, so real, so hers

“Open your mouth, Baby.”  The words were whispered against her lips and she opened to him – helplessly. 

Savannah ran her hands over his shoulders – he was thinner and there were ridges on his body.  Scars?  “Are you okay?”

“I am, now.”

She grasped his wrists, needing to ensure that he didn’t fade away.  He was here.  He was here.  He was here.  Pleasure overtook her.  Patrick’s lips slanted over hers – took her kiss, and she was lost.  She held his face and let him take what he needed.  His kiss was desperate and intense – and Savannah’s world righted itself after being storm-tossed for so long.  Their tongues slid together, mating and tasting.  Their moans of satisfaction and relief harmonized as they kissed – their bodies straining to get just as close to one another as possible.

“You want me, don’t you, Savannah?”  

“Always,” she answered.       

She could feel him next to her, on top of her – surrounding her.  He was here with her, his cheek rubbing against her face.  His breath was hot on her neck.  She could smell him – Lord, the wonder of inhaling his scent.  How she had missed this!  He pressed her into the mattress.  She could feel his weight, see the dark shadow of his big body looming over her – feel the throb of his erection between them.  Her own body answered by going soft and wet – readying itself for an occupation she never thought she’d be privileged to know again.  “Take me, Patrick.  I’m yours.”

“Do you know how perfect you are?  Dreams of you kept me alive, Savannah.”  The rasp of his beard on her face and neck enflamed her.  She opened her legs, arched her back and thrust her breasts up for his kiss.  Her body, as well as her soul, welcomed him.

“You’re here.  You came to me.”  She held him to her as he sucked at her breast.  The sting of his teeth on her nipple assured her of his presence.  “I need you, so.”

“Good, cause I can’t wait.  I’ve wanted you for so long.”  His kiss returned to her lips – hard and hungry.  She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.  It had been so long!  Without any preamble, he surged within her and Savannah’s body protested.  She groaned.  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

“No,” she whispered.  It was a precious hurt – a welcome hurt. Her body had not known possession such as this in years and she wanted to feel it now.  “It feels wonderful.”  It felt wonderful because she could feel him – his hardness, his heat, the reality of him with her – over her – in her.  Patrick was making love to her and it was the answer to a thousand prayers – the fulfillment of a million dreams. 

She kissed him – licked him, bit at his neck, nipped his chin.  Savannah wanted to consume him.  Pumping between her thighs, a blessed pounding – taking, God yes – fucking - Patrick rode her unmercifully and she welcomed every thrust.  The bed jarred; her body quivered and convulsed.  She wrapped her legs and arms around him, every move he made, she answered with a whimper or plea for more.  “Yes, Patrick – more!”  Her hips lifted, she writhed beneath him as they both flew apart with groans of ecstasy.  Savannah could feel him give himself to her.  She could feel the rush of warmth shoot deep within her as her body accepted his seed. 

Patrick was home and she never intended to let him go again.



Savannah held on to the dreams and Patrick for as long as she could.  It was as if he held her during the night.  Strong arms cradled her.  She nestled into his broad hard chest and rested her head on his shoulder.  His lips kissed her temple.  He whispered words of love into her ear.  “I’ll be back, Savannah.  I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She held on to him – “No.  Don’t leave.”     

But when dawn came, her dream was gone. 

Opening her eyes to the morning light, Savannah stretched and yawned.  Wait!  Why did she feel differently?  And then the amazing dream she’d had came rushing back.  It had seemed so real!  She had dreamed of making love with Patrick before, but never had it be so detailed – or so fulfilling.  She had cum so hard that her body still tingled.  Savannah sat up, shaking her head in confusion.               

Laying there in her bed, Savannah looked around at the familiar room.  Despite the disappointment of finding herself alone, she couldn’t help but appreciate how good she felt.  For the first time in years she felt well-loved and peaceful. 

But it had been a dream, only a dream.   

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Thanks

Sable Hunter