tigersaint

the thirty-fifth night:

for the first time in as long as i can remember, i had a dream about making love.

he was very tall, with light, but not blonde, hair. he had dark eyes. his skin was very pale, and soft, but his hands were workman's hands. his arms were wiry, but very strong.

we were in my childhood bed, the large queen sized bed with the wooden headboard.

his skin was so warm, his lips were wide and full--the only thing about him that could be said to be feminine.

he pulled me to him tightly, he pressed my face against his chest, i was crying. i climbed on top of him. he held my face in his hands and licked my tears off my cheeks, kissed my eyelids, my jawline.

he set me on my back and inspected my wrists and kissed the bruises there. he kissed all my scars, he traced them with a felt tipped pen until i was marked up like a ragdoll.

my fingers were drawn to the lines of his lips while he worked on me, slipping across the warm skin, travelling along the vermillion border where the skin of his lips met the skin of his face.

when he was done i was on top of him again.

we were both topless, ready for bed, in pjamma pants. i kissed him for what seemed like hours. most of the time in dreams, when i kiss someone it is not real, their mouth doesn't feel real, or it's cold like crushed ice, or something is off to make it feel/taste/seem wrong, like looking in a funhouse mirror.

but this kissing was real, and soft, and unexpected. i held his face, i could feel him smiling as i kissed him, i could sense he was as happy as i was to be this close.

his fingers were so gentle across my back, then cupping my breasts, my ass. he pushed my pants down slowly, he slid his fingers along my lips and then inside me to taste me. he smiled as he slipped them inside me again, this time to feed them to me.

i took him in my hand and guided him inside me while we kissed, i rode him slowly and deliberately, we looked at each other the whole time.

i could feel the sex with my whole body, i could feel my muscles strain, i could feel his heat inside me. i could feel his breath against my mouth when i dipped down to kiss him, i could feel his hands on my ribs when i sat up to have him as deep inside me as possible.

i heard him whisper my name as he came, gasping against my throat. i could taste his bottom lip in my mouth as i sucked on it while i came, his hands on my hips pulling me down as hard as he could.

i could smell him as i fell asleep on top of him, his arms wrapped around me.

when i woke up my pillow was wet with tears, they were still running down my cheeks.

i've never made love to anyone like that.

i was at once very happy and very sad, laying there in the dark, lonely with my arms wrapped around myself.

it was almost as if i could still feel the kisses on my mouth.

i could feel my face burning with shame, that i could only give myself to someone like that in a dream, that someone had only asked for me like that while i was sleeping.