“DAMN!” I yelled at the daylight that flooded my empty and lonely room. Every time I begin to lose myself in his arms, I wake up moments later alone, horny as hell, and brokenhearted.
And everyone asks me why I don’t sleep, if only they knew.
The hours become days after one of his dream visits. They follow one after another in rapid lonely succession.
I kid and carry on, flirt and on occasion give in to the men that I work and/or associate with, but none of them fill the void. I sometimes wonder if my life has manipulated itself to make every minute of my daily grid remind and frustrate me of the lonely empty life I lead.
If one set of eyes could pierce me as deeply, one pair of hands could touch me so completely; If one voice could captivate me so entirely in the real world maybe, just maybe I could find the peace I needed to get a good night’s sleep.
Maybe I would begin to welcome the break of day, and stop fighting the natural order of my life. Instead I dread and celebrate falling asleep, and I curse the dawn for bringing me back to my lonely, wanting, heart-hurting reality.
I dread the working hours of women gossiping about their lovers. Men that display their sexual desires for their women in public places only fuel the desire to crawl into a dark hole and hide. Watching couples doomed to break up because neither appreciate the closeness or bond they truly have, it makes me cringe.
If I had a dollar for every offer to ease my loneliness made by a boy far beneath the ability to please me, I’d be rich beyond even my imagination. Decrease that to a nickel every time I heard a comment about my thick thighs or “juicy” ass, I’d be even richer yet.
But even if I could cash in I would trade every cent, every minute, everything save my family and friends, all of it, if the man of my dreams could walk into my reality.
I settle instead for false promises, the ego hungry non-performers. The “I’d treat you like a queen” professing idiots that really mean “I’ll make you pay for everything, make all the decisions, and treat sex like a duty instead of a privilege”.
And each day is the same, sixteen hours before the real work begins…staying awake.
Repeated pep talks like broken records over and over, “don’t fall asleep, don’t let the idea of him break your heart again. Coffee … go get coffee.”
Notebooks of paper scattered across my bed, filled, every page, every line poetry, prayers, stories, Stray thoughts anything that keeps my mind active, awake, and working.
Light of the television, another glow from the screen of my laptop. I spend hours searching the internet for new ideas, story inspirations, sleep articles, dream legends.
God my eyelids are heavy, where did I put that coffee?
Get up, get up and stretch, go downstairs, I tell myself. Wash some dishes, sort some laundry, stay up stay awake.
Working, writing, playing, singing, anything to fight away the exhaustion. I’ll only sit down for a minute. My legs are tired. I can do this. I can fight, I can win the battle with sleep.
Back up, get back up.
Up the stairs to the laptop. I can already hear his voice in my head, Find someway to drown out his call. Internet dating sites, online jobs, video games, something else to stay awake… anything else.
Eyelids drooping, head bobbing, oh no, I’m losing. Not again, too late… you win this round slumber.
The bed was a shambled mess, books and laptop gone and in their place the sleeping naked flesh I covet. Even in sleep you are the idea of perfect. Watching you breathe, your chest rising and falling in the night shadows of our room. Your skin inviting my touch, though I dare not indulge. I don’t want to wake you.
Rolling away from the temptation, turning back to you, I silently pray. “Please God, let me wake up now before it gets worse.”
Like a mind reader you rolled in your sleep and ended up on your side in the perfect spooning position curled up behind me. Your body formed and folded around me like it was made to fit. Your arm drapes over my waist, then curled up to embrace me and pull me into you.
Your breath was hot on the back of my neck as your low and sexy voice whispers still half asleep, “Stay.”
How could I not. Every happy endorphin my body could produce released the moment you touched me. Leaving you each morning for my dull and dreary world already breaks my heart, why rush the pain and emptiness?
“I’m not going anywhere.” I muttered as I snuggled into your embrace.
“Good, ’cause I have plans for you as soon as I wake up enough.” you yawned in my ear.
Jokingly I asked, ” Do these plans include pancakes and coffee?”
“Well,” you giggled,”no, but there is surely sausage and heavy cream in your future.”
“Is that so? ” I bantered back unable to resist the opening. “Well breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” I added slipping from your grasp to hide beneath the covers. “And a girl needs her protein.”
Your body was like an unclaimed sculpture chiseled to perfectly match my idea of godliness. Hard in some places, soft in others, but in its entirety gorgeous.
Running my hands over your flesh was like being given a new sence of sight . I could truly see your perfection through my eager fingertips. Trailing them lightly over your chest, taking time to trace your tattoos, down across you stomach. Then, across the tops of your thighs, constantly watching the ever rising proof of your desire for me.
Harder and harder it became, as I added sweet kisses to my touch. Blissful payback for the unfinished business of our last encounter. unfortunately I could never tease you for long, because for every measurable amount my actions heightened your desire, they rose mine twice as much. I wanted you more than you could fathom.
A strategically placed kiss on your inner thigh, my nose grazing your balls, the warmth of my exhale washing over your now solid shaft, gave you the shiver that told me you were primed for play.
You aren’t the only one skilled with your mouth, I thought to myself as I licked your pole from base to tip.
“Oh my God!” Sounding so sweet coming from that deep voice.
Sliding you into my mouth like a lollipop, made you grab the blanket inches from my head. I couldn’t wait to make you squirm with desire.
The salty sweet taste of you, as my tongue massaged the shaft of flesh sliding between my lips. I got wetter and wetter and the feel of your heat building. Sucking your need for me to new heights, I wondered if I’d be able to finish before dawn.
“I want you, all of you”, you declared, trembling from my efforts.
The thought of you inside me was maddening. I wanted, needed, craved the feel of your sweet love-making. But, to stop before you reached your climax would feel like quitting. And you deserved the stress, and muscle release that came with a pure orgasm.
The taste of you was too tempting to give up on. Increasing my speed, and adding the special treat you call “That thing you do.” , I prayed It would be enough to push you over the edge.
Instead, you had other plans. You pulled away, reached under the covers, pulled and twisted me until I was on all fours in front of you.
A rub of your hand over my dripping wet center and you slide into me.
“You know that thing you do drives me crazy.” You growled.
Smacking my ass, you thrust into me again. You hit a rhythm that had me dizzy with pleasure. You grabbed my hips in both hands and pulled me into you as you thrusted forward.
Before I knew what had happened a hand reached up and grabbed a fist full of my hair. Yanking it back, my head followed. The steady pull lifted me backward, soon only my knees down touched the bed. An arm wrapped my breasts, my ass still bouncing against your waist with your pounding, but arched backward as far as the position would allow.
Your arm holding me in position, you leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“You know, I love you, right?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The exact moment my hands hit his bed, my dog jumped onto mine shocking me back to my less pleasing world.
Alone, again, and still tired. I’ve tried it all. Staying awake, sleeping in different positions, in different rooms, even in my car. But no matter how, or where I fall asleep he is there. Always.