Dreaming With You

I don’t know how I came to be here, but I don’t care. All I know is that he is spooned around me, his fingers traveling daintily across my shoulders, down my arms, his lips gently at the nape of my neck. I smile as I feel his breath, so uniquely him, so incredibly sensual.

I love this feeling, cradled in his arms, so safe, so protected. Do I dare say I feel loved? Its presence is unmistakable at moments like these, but its presence is not constant, living in different worlds as we do. How did we come together?

The question is driven from my mind as a sharp spike makes me realize where his fingers are now. The answer doesn’t matter. All that does is these feelings he’s bringing out in me. I feel one arm wrapped around my front, gently teasing a nipple to greater hardness. I feel his other arm draped across my hip, his fingers softly asking my lips to give him access. He gently parts them, gently slips his fingers down, coating them with the moisture weeping from my core, gently pulls it back up to slicken my clit.

Gently.

Gently.

Oh so gently.

I shudder feeling every inch of his skin against mine. I struggle to open my eyes. “Shhhh,” he croons in my ear. “Stay in shadow,” he whispers.

Dreamily, I obey, languishing in the heightened sensation sleep can bring. Somewhere I know the tingle should be concentrated between my legs, but I feel it run along the curve where my legs reach my ass. I feel it in the small of my back tickled by the hair on his belly. I feel it in the tips of my nipple even though he now caresses the curve underneath my breast. I feel I should pull all the sensations together, refocus them so I can reach my peak faster so he too can have release. “Relax. Enjoy,” he commands, reading my mind. “It will come soon enough. Just feel me.”

Eyes closed, deprived of vision, I do as he says. I reach my free hand up, to run my fingers through his hair. I feel the wisps of his facial hair as he nibbles my ear. I run the pad of my foot, down his calf, entwine my feet in his. I push my hips back against him, driving his hardness into my divide. He weeps too, his moisture lubricating us. He pulses against me. I glide slowly, minutely, up then down. Outer sex, I’ve heard it called.

The tingle races across my skin, never staying in one place. I extend my neck, hoping he notices that I want him to kiss me there, pushing my breasts out with nipples that so painfully need to be touched. I hitch my outer leg slightly over his to give him greater access. With my inner hand, I part my lips, so my clit can’t hide like it so often does.

“Come for me,” he whispers. His command thrills me. I want to come so hard for him. I want to gush all over his fingers, soak the sheets. “Come for me,” I hear low and husky.

Finally, the tingle begins to focus. I can feel my hips circling. He clamps me against him, limiting my movements. It’s exquisite agony. I’m so close. So close.

I shudder as I crest my peak. No matter how I try, the orgasmic feel is indescribable. Wave upon wave breaks as he alternately rubs, taps, jiggles my clit. I drive my hips against him harder, forcing his cock perpendicular. I sigh as I feel it along my cleft.

“Please,” I beg. I angle my upper body forward, my leg high over his hip, my hand guiding him into me. I feel his tip at my entrance. He pulses, both to tease me and to allow my moisture to glide over him. With each pulse, he slides further into me. “Pllleeeaassseee,” I cry.

Finally, I feel his length fully fill me. He hisses and I sigh. If my eyes weren’t already rolled to the back of my head, they are now. He pulses against my G-spot and I involuntarily keel. I don’t care who hears me. The feeling is so powerful. I can never get enough of this. This is where I want to be. Why do I have to leave?

I tilt back, so I can feel as much of him pressed against me as I can. I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me as we move. I want to ride him, but he hold me back, torturing me as he moves in and out of me, slowly, deliberately. I feel his head run against the back of my vagina, anticipating the rush each time he nears my G-spot. “More,” I plead. “Please, more.”

Self-control he certainly has, but only so much. My keening and begging thrill him and he gives into my wishes. He pulls me atop him. My feet find purchase to push against him, while he pumps up into me. My ass bangs against his hips. I feel his balls fly up every now and again. I think they hit my clit on that thrust.

I hear him grunt and I’m more turned on than I thought I could be. Our joining begins to hurt; it’s so good. I can’t take much more, but I don’t want it to stop.

I hear his breath quicken. I feel his abdomen ripple. I slow. I feel his fingers dig into my hips, hear him grunt more forcefully. I squeeze him as he explodes in me.

I lay back against him, squeezing again as I feel him soften within me. For all the intensity before, this is my favorite moment. This feeling of completeness won’t last, so I must savor it while I can. I know he does too. He runs the fingers of both hands lazily up and down my arms. I caress his hips the same way, lay my head back to feel his skin against my jawline.

Neither of us wants to break to spell to see what time it is or how much time is left before we must re-enter the world.