Bed. He needed to sleep. The oblivion of it was a welcome balm, and as he faded out he was grateful for an empty mind and a resting body.
At least the sorrow in his dreams didn’t follow him in real life.
*
Her heat was so soothing, the spread of silky skin along the length of his oversized body a blanket he could wear forever. She inhaled, then exhaled, a tiny sound of contentment coming from her, so cute it made him chuckle.
The sun peeked its rays into the room as it cracked its eyes open and began its morning routine, sunrise beginning. In the strange morning half-light, he watched her hair glisten like honey mixed with cream. His arm was around her and she nestled her cheek into his pecs, the feel of soft, pliant flesh against his own marbled body such a welcome contrast that he needed to feel more.
The steady march of his palm down her ribs, cupping her breast, made her sigh, a sound of encouragement all he needed. He moved his arm and pulled her onto him, her thigh bending just so and then, with a pleasant twist, he was in her.
Or, rather, she was on him. Straightening up, her eyes sleepy and unfocused, she placed her hands on his shoulders and sank down completely, the feeling of encasement by her warm core the closest he could ever come to nirvana.
This unexpected morning delight gave him an unfettered view of her body, the heavy, round breasts with pert nipples, the loose, disheveled hair still tangled from last night’s lovemaking. Her mouth stretched into an O of concentration, her own orgasm closer than his. He watched her, feeling blessed that she would offer him this glimpse of her sexual soul.
He began the slow, languid movement of his hips, thrusting up into her to find the sweet spot that would make her tighten, entice her to cry out, strip her of all control until she shuddered wildly. Each thrust up made her thighs clench his hips, and his hand reached up to take one nipple between his fingers, the other slipping between them as he—
Mike awoke with a start, cock at full mast and his heart slapping his ribs so hard it was like being spanked, a sob in his throat as he looked around the room, frantically grabbing the sheets to see what had happened to her. She was just here. Just here. Where did she go?
His head swiveled left and right, eyes adjusting in the early morning light , the sooty grey of the room too dim. Sweat covered him and he chilled instantly, gooseflesh exploding on every inch of exposed skin.
Reality sank in.
She wasn’t real.
She was just a dream.
No. Impossible. He could feel her on his skin. His cock was wet from her juices, his hand poking under the covers to touch it, finding only his own wetness there. He could still smell her, the scent fruity with a touch of cinnamon and musk, her hair in his eyes, chafing against his chest.
No matter how hard he tried to make her real, though, the empty bedroom was testimony to the folly.
Dreams were where he saw her. Not in his arms, but in his subconscious.
Mike closed his eyes, willing himself to conjure her taste, her touch, how she looked, but the senses disappointed him as it all faded. Every bit of it, leaving only one final feeling:
Despair.
For a few shining moments in REM sleep he’d been blissfully wanted, stroked, tasted and loved.
And the dream woman wasn’t Jill.
Laura
His eyes met hers and she melted inside, as if he’d sent heat through her with the specific purpose of making her bones soft and pliant, as warm as her flesh.
Being asked to fuck a man made her heart pound in her ears so hard she wasn’t sure she heard him right. While both men could be dominant, and demanding in bed, the blonde one wasn’t the type to—
Slam her against the shower wall and grab her with such force, fingers everywhere like tentacles, and kiss the breath out of her until her lips felt bruised and bitten, taken and defiled, leaving her heart and clit throbbing in unison, her hips dipping into his thigh, the sound of his ragged breath setting her on fire.
He was everywhere suddenly, all flame and rush, eager need replacing intimate love for this moment. If this were all she had with him it would be too much and too little, too rough and too angry. But right this moment, with her mind like cotton and the tightening noose of fear making it harder and harder to pretend she remembered how to breathe, what she needed, and didn’t realize it was this.
