Dreams

Going to sleep is more exciting than it used to be, after I met him.

Though there were many bodies all pressed against each other in a hopelessly rhythmic dance, still I could feel his sweet breathing on my neck. It was all I could do to suppress the shudder that wanted to wrack my body, take me down in the pure sensation of lust. I pressed into him, melding myself into the contours of his being. The moan that escaped my lips was silent to the rest of the world, but no, not him. He heard it, and the breath on my neck turned into a tongue, trailing its way upwards to find my sensitive earlobe.

This time I was unable to suppress the shiver, and I shook, my own breath catching in my throat as I gasped at the sensations coursing through me. As he nibbled on my ear, I couldn’t help but think how hot this was, being seduced in the middle of a gigantic crowd of sweaty, sticky bodies, being plastered against the man of my dreams in a sensuous haze of pleasure. I could feel his erection rubbing against me, and I groaned again, earning a predatory growl and a thrust from the taller man behind me. Now not only was I in danger of losing my ear, but my sanity was leaving as well as he began openly groping me.

Nobody else knew, and I think that’s what made it so hot, so personal, so beautiful. We were the only ones that knew what it was like at that time, to be groped and humped and licked so intimately with hundreds of people inches away from you. We could have gotten caught at absolutely any moment, and for that we tried harder. The show we were putting on must have been amazing, because the bodies near us started to turn our direction. I couldn’t help myself, being attacked from behind as I was. The attention just made us more oblivious to the outer world, as we gyrated together. For all I knew, we were the only ones there. The music pounded through our souls, the vibrations sending pleasurable sensations through us and over us and around us, and we were completely lost in each other.

I’m not sure when we made it out of there, or how exactly we got home and ended up on the living room floor, tangled in a mess of clothes and sweat. All I can remember is the feeling of being stroked, touched, bitten, and fondled in the most intimate places on my body, places I hardly new existed. My pants were ripped off, and the cold air stunned me and I gasped again. He claimed my open mouth, devouring me, making me his own, and I succumbed to his will, his desire, his passion, his love.

When he filled me, all I could see were stars. The pain only enhanced my pleasure, and I screamed his name in time with every thrust. It rolled so well off my lips and into the chill air, and he moaned into my chest as he lavished my nipples, then my collarbone, neck, and mouth. It’s always the times like these that I start begging for release, for him to finish me now…

Then I wake up, alone, with nothing but dirty sheets and a very broken heart. Someday he’ll see how much I mean to him, and then, only then, will he love me like I deserve. Until then, I’ll keep on dreaming.