Dream lover, again.

I had another visitation by my dream lover. It was intense and beautiful and erotic.

I dreamed that I slowly drifted up from slumber and felt my dream lover laying next to me. He felt so good, I could not resist the urge to touch him. I ran my fingers down along his arm and traced each finger of his hand, so still and lovely in sleep, so deft and beautiful when touching me, making me ache. I moved my hand back up his arm and slid it across his chest, nestling closer into him, my body pressed against his side. My hands travelled sleepily over him, delighting in the feel of the skin along his collarbones, his chest, his abdomen. I felt him sigh in his sleep, and watched his eyes move under his eyelids. Not wanting to disturb his rest any further, I kissed a fingertip and pressed it to his mouth, and then resting my head on his shoulder, fell back to sleep.

I awakened some time later to find myself snuggled into his vacated spot in the bed, his pillow hugged to me. I could smell his scent upon the pillow, and it pleased me, but after a short while I began to wonder where he had gotten off to. I slipped from the bed and into my robe, then went looking for him.

I found him sitting at the desk, typing at his computer. I moved quietly up behind him and reached my hand out to caress his shoulder, my fingertips gliding down his arm and back up. He made a pleased sound in his throat and captured my hand in his, and turning his head, placed a warm kiss upon it. My other hand buried itself in the hair at the back of his neck, and again he made a wonderfully sensuous sound, like a purr. I flexed my fingers in his hair, and pulling his head back, bent to tease his mouth with mine. He kept trying to deepen the kiss, but I pulled away each time, so that our lips just barely brushed each other. Finally, he slipped his free hand to the back of my neck and pressed against it, forcing my mouth against his, kissing me with passion.

He kept hold of my hand and turned the chair around so that he faced me. His hands moved to untie my robe and then rested on my hips, and he stood up very slowly, his bare flesh running up along my own. Then he took my hand and led me back to the bedroom, where he stopped just short of the bed and pulled me against him, slowly but firmly. The pressure of his fingers increased to the point of near-pain as he bent his knees to better cup me against him, leaving me in no doubt of his arousal. I tried to move backwards to the bed but he continued to hold me, and bending his head, he ran his mouth down over the skin of my neck and kissed inwards along my collarbone. His fingers released me, only to tangle themselves in my hair as I leaned my head back, enjoying the feel of his mouth sliding onto my throat in a moist teasing kiss full of tongue and lips. I could not stop myself from arching toward him, pressing myself intimately against him. I ran my hands restlessly along his shoulders and down his chest, my fingernails catching on his nipples. He jumped and caught his breath, and in that moment I leaned backwards into the bed, pulling him forward onto me.

We lay that way for quite some time, kissing and cuddling, enjoying the simple joy of skin against skin. But, oh how I ached, my arousal welling up within me, the moisture rising where the pressure was most pleasurable. I took his hands in mine and held them out to the side, then ground my hips slowly upwards, rubbing myself against him. He grinned and ground back.

"I want..." I breathed, and stopped to kiss his lovely mouth. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, running my tongue along the sensitive inner lining. He moaned and pulled back a little, so I released his lip and raised my knees, pressing my hips upwards and rocking against him with more urgency. He slid his hands down along the underside of my thighs, caressing them, pulling them up higher until my feet slipped along the small of his back. I locked them behind him and pulled his head down, and the kiss we exchanged was full of simmering longing. I ached for him, and I wanted him inside me. When he rocked his hips, pressing himself against my mound, the stimulation was unbearable. I pressed my hands on his shoulders and shifted my hips, quickly flipping him onto his back.

I sat up, straddling him, and rocked my bottom against the hardness underneath it. I was so wet that I slipped easily along the length of him. He slid his palms over my skin and arched his back. "Is this what you want?" he asked as he thrust himself against me. I just moaned and dug my fingernails into his chest, feeling light-headed with longing. With his hands on my ass he urged me upwards until I could feel him pressing in the right place, and then I reversed the motion, slipping downwards, crying out at the wealth of feeling coursing along my nerve-endings, and the wonderful feel of him filling me again.

We rocked together, languidly at first, and then later with more urgency. Our hands entwined, our voices raised in moans and cries, we swayed along the path of pleasure for as long as we could. I climaxed with his thumb pressed against my clit, my head thrown back, and my hands pressed into his thighs to support myself as I arched backwards. Afterwards I kept rocking and moved a hand to his balls.

"Be still," he moaned, "I don't want to come yet." But I continued to touch him and move against him, until with a groan he seized my hips and slammed upwards into me, once, twice, three times, his hands savage in their urgency. Oh the sounds he made! And the waves of pleasure and pain, as he penetrated so deeply, so deeply that I cried out, and that pushed him over the edge, his body frozen in mid-arch. I clamped down on him and touched my clit and brought myself to orgasm along with him, exalted and glowing, until we collapsed together into the bed, our bodies slick with sweat, our chests heaving. We fell asleep with our bodies entwined, and when I awakened he was gone again, and I knew then that it was only a dream.

Only a dream, only a dream lover.