http://www.mrdouble.com



                         FOR YOU
.
.
I sleep, and in my sleep, I dream ... I walk the paths of
dreams until I find the one I seek, the one that leads to you.
.
    I look at you, your beautiful form, with your hair spilling
out onto the pillow in a rippling sheet of glory, with sunlight
dappling your limbs with light and shadow as it streams through the
blinds.  The air conditioner makes a quiet hum as I admire your naked
form, the sheet pulled down from your body as you lie asleep.  You
smile as you dream of what you have done, and what I have promised.  I
watch the rise and fall of your perfect breasts as you breathe, and
sigh deeply when you move to display yourself, your legs falling open
as you turn.
    I can tell what you are dreaming ... I see how your labia
swell, and you catch your lower lip between your teeth in that motion,
that meaning of 'yes, take me ...'  I see you move, restlessly on the
bed, naked form sliding as your nipples erect, as I am erecting.  You
moan quietly as I gently sink my weight, barely there, but perceptible
nonetheless, upon the mattress.  Asleep, your hands begin to wander
about the hills and valleys of your body, as you seek a release from
the dreams that torment you so.  If only you knew how I dream of You,
only to awaken to an empty bed.
    I move to lean over you, your form shifting on the bed, the
beginnings of your moisture forming dew on the hairs covering your
womanhood.  Gently I trace my fingers along the bud of your desire,
and lick the drops of fluid from my hand.  Your musk, like you, is
perfection incarnate.
    You turn again, so that your back is to me, the swell of your
buttocks rising above the mattress, with the curls of your mons
visible where your legs meet. I lean down; to kiss your shoulder.  One
kiss, I think, and  I will leave, walking the paths to my body, only
to dream again.  As I lean over, you move.  Onto your back, and my
kiss --  feather light, brushes your lips, your eyelids -- you smile.
My hand reaches out, daring, brushing over the contours of your body.
You begin to undulate under my touch, moving, sliding on the sheets as
they become dampened with your sweat, hot -- even with the cooling of
the fans and the air conditioner -- your dreams keep you hot.
    I brush across the curve of your breasts, your pebbled nipples
rising to meet the palms of my hands.  You move, your leg brushing
against mine as I rise, only to sink down, further along the bed,
where I breathe deeply of the aroma rising from your skin, your hair,
your sex. Your legs spread, as if held by the hands of the djinn, as I
lean down, inhaling the scent of your desire.  Your limbs begin to
shift, restlessly, as I reach out to run my fingers along your cleft,
the labia swelling further, spreading, exposing your inner lips, and
the delicate bud of your clitoris.
    I bend at the waist, carefully, and wraith-like, skim my lips
along the hairs, brushing, tugging with my teeth until you whimper,
deep in your throat, as I dreamt you would. Cautiously, I reach out
and enclose the tip of your swollen clitoris with my lips, brushing it
in gentle sweeping motions of my tongue.  I move my fingers lightly,
grazing the skin of your thighs as you turn beneath my ministrations.
Your bud hardens, and peeps further from its protection of skin and
hair --  reaching for a phantom lover that exists only in your dreams
-- a dream that we share.
    As your skin begins to glow with that joy -- the nearness you
want, I pull back, only to insinuate my tongue within the depths of
your cavern, drawing forth the feelings - what I feel, what I wish you
to feel -- I wend my delicate way among the whorls and loops of your
guardians, the hairs that conceal your beauty.  I take your breast in
my hand, circular motions as the aureole darkens and puckers, drawing
up firm and strong as your legs alternately stiffen and relax. The
skin on your belly quivers as the quickening rush begins to build
inside -- tensing, and yet, at the same time, soothing --calming a
need and an ache unrealized before this time. I move my tongue and
lips in a dance along your nether regions, drawing you, in your dream,
to a height unreachable in the waking hours, turning a dream into a
fantasy -- wherein the fantasy becomes reality.  Your skin darkens as
your breath begins to come more quickly, forcefully from your lungs.
You moan and break into a sigh as your peaks roll together, your
fluids exploding from your body --coating my tongue, my lips, my chin
-- my hands are sticky with your love.
    I sit on the edge of the bed and watch you as you slip back
into a drowse.  Will you remember?  Did it happen?  Did you see me?
Feel me?  Or did you dream it, all of it -- yourself, and your
dream/fantasy lover?
.
I sleep, and in my sleep, I dream ...
.

 
