Half-Remembered Dream

[As soon as I awoke I wrote down every detail I could remember, scrambling to battle the Fading, desperate to preserve the memory, the emotion, in hopes that reading it over would help the Dream come again.]

Crawling through my bedroom window; shame on your face, battling desire.

If you were just some whore, some slut, it wouldn't matter. But it is you. It is YOU. Conflicted, you are half-paralyzed with guilt. BUT YOU COME ANYWAY.

You crawl into my room wearing only a nightgown. You kneel before the bed, Shame and Desire still waging their epic war within you. You are two feet away from me in the dark, but I stay silent, unmoving, as if still asleep, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Kneeling there, it almost seems like you are praying. 

Standing, decision made, the nightgown falls free to puddle on the floor. It is the only thing you had to remove. You are now naked in my bed, and I feel you burrowing into me: for warmth, for strength, for protection, and so that I know you're mine.

You love how small you feel against me, how enveloped under my covers, in my bed. Others might wish they had the courage, the daring to crawl through that window, but only you managed to capture my eye, my mind, my lust, my desire.

Hair fanned out over me, covering and claiming....breasts pressed against my chest; so that our hearts beat into one another's.

Slip on top of me....press your hot wetness onto my thigh....drag it up to my stiffening response, which you stroke slowly to full potential.

My hands slip to your waist, and I lift you up gently, placing the weapon of my desire at your opening, the fire of coming union already more than flamed.

Under the blankets, thrice a secret; in my bed, in my room, in the dark. Using your thighs and calves as forceps, you slowly push yourself down, taking me in, slowly, territory covered and conquered, and then slowly, back up again.

It takes twenty strokes for you to claim all of me. twenty long, slow strokes to saturate me fully with your lust, ensnaring me within you.

Your palms flat against my chest, for leverage. Watching you, half smile on my face, letting you set the pace. It was you who came through the window, and for now, this is your battle. You bite your lip in concentration and to keep silent as you move in the darkness, working up and down, in and out, getting every last bit you came for, and will come for again. 

After Dark Tales                     Hyperion Empire