You came to me in a dream last night, late.
Dark hair, dark eyes, darkest intent.
The sensation of your hands running up my legs,
toward heaven, slowly.
Continuing so slowly, going on for days. Hurry!
Your breath on my thigh, moving higher,
as wandering fingers find me, then pinch hard.
The warmness of your body as it presses against mine,
Sinking us into the mattress, delicious.
As my body adjusts to your weight, just right,
your lips on my neck. Bite!
I moan my welcome, begging you to not stop. Faster!
Your legs move between mine until I am open, exposed.
My sleeping eyes are closed but they see you
above me, strong.
Your hands run along my arms until you grasp
my wrists, raising them above my head, restrained.
I’m restless and impatient, as usual, hungry.
“Be still, baby girl. It’s going to happen,”
you promise, I pray.
I am full and moving with you, alive.
Friction, angle, force and thrust.
It builds and rises, rough.
I’m over the edge, falling, flying. Urgent.
Then awake.