In My Dreams

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My head sinks into the welcoming softness of my pillow, and drowziness begins to over take me. Sleep is something that I welcome, and soon enough it overcomes me.

I drift off into slumber, and also into that strange, misty world where our hidden hopes, longings, fears and worst imaginings come to life in vivid detail.

The first thing I am aware of is the sensation. Sounds are muffled and muted, fading from my ear until I almost feel as if I have lost my sense of hearing.

Then my eyes flutter open, and each time I stand, blanketed by soft white mist. Thick and opaque, it swirls around my body, the clothes I am wearing growing heavy and clammy as the dampness seeps into them. The fog is so thick that I have to strain to see, and I curse my glasses upon which tiny translucent beads of dew form and cling, obscuring my vision.

And then he is there. Materializing right before my very eyes, a dark contrast against the fog, yet he somehow blends in. His clothes are dark and formfitting, standing out against both the surrounding blanket of fog and the paleness of his own skin. Silvery blond strands of hair fall forward over his face as he moves forward with fluid grace.

Closer and closer he approaches, until he stands directly in front of me, so close that I can feel the seductive warmth radiating from his body. It tugs ever so gently at my senses, urging, tantalizing, beckoning and lulling until I am fighting with all my strength not to give in to the feeling, the swirls of my own emotion that pull me towards him.

I meet his gaze head on, and the battle of wills begin. His eyes are deeply grey, with flecks of ocean blue that can make that stare appear as cold as ocean ice, or as warm as a tropical sea. They do not waver from mine, offering a silent challenge and invitation that I struggle helplessly against, each and every time. That liquid velvety grey stare wraps around me, and I am lost in it. I do not know if I am drowning in it or whether it gently surrounds me, but either way I am unable to look away.

His eyes are gentle and understanding, but unrelenting and demanding as they gaze into my own. And as he stands, merely looking at me in that intense way of his, my resolve crumbles and my body sways towards his as a soft sigh escapes my lips.

He waits, no matter how many times this sequence occurs. His eyes flicker down to heatedly rake over my body, starting at my toes and making their way up, lingering only at my midsection and then at my lips. I feel that stare as if it is a caress, leaving no part of me untouched before it is upon my face once again and those grey eyes are meeting mine once more. I can feel the desire pouring off of him, yet he makes no move, simply waiting.

The thought of resisting, of turning around and determinedly walking away does flicker through my mind, but only for a moment. The idea of leaving him standing there, pale skin and silvery hair fading until they simply one with the mist is not one that I can put into action. I know that he is waiting for me to make the first move - no matter how strong or how insistent his own passion is, he calmly waits as my body wavers and leans into his.

The moment my lips graze over his, my tongue darting forward to tenderly graze along the smoothly dry skin of his own, he lets his own passion break free.

Slender hands come up to grasp and pull me tightly against him. My glasses are quickly removed and tucked into some unknown pocket of his robes, and then our hands are moving over each other. He seems to know exactly where to touch me, how to drive me wild. His hands gently tease and demand as they roam heatedly over my back, sliding up to glance over my shoulderblades before trailing down over my spine. I gasp against his lips, my back arching and bringing our torso's and hips up against one another.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating and flowing along his tongue and through his lips as they heatedly move over my own. His tongue sweeps along the edge of my mouth, coaxing my lips to open and when they do, plunges in to stroke along my own.

He lowers me to the soft, fragrantly moist grass, nimble fingers flitting over my clothes, unfastening and peeling them off until nothing remains between the two of us. Heated flesh presses against my own as his soft, moist mouth torments me, and I give myself up to the passion sweeping over the both of us, allowing his knowing hands to carry me away. We tease and torment one another, kissing and caressing and stroking and exploring until it we are one together in the swirling world of sensation that surrounds and pulls us down.

Afterwards we lie entangled together, hands still lightly dancing over each other's bodies. His eyes are the deep enchanting blue of the sea on a warm summer's day, and I lose myself in them as I drop feather like kissed along the line of his jaw. His arms are strong and comforting as they clasp around me, drawing me snug against his side. Our hearts thud in unison, and he finds my hand with his own, twining his slim fingers among my own.

He places a kiss upon my forehead, just to the right of the mark that announces to the world who I am. My hold upon him tightens, for I know from past experience that this is where it ends, where I must return to reality.

He senses my distress, and claims my lips once more with his own.

"When you are ready, you will find me where you have gazed many times but never really seen," he whispers.

As the mist begins to eddy around his face, his features become blurred, as if out of focus. Beneath my hands his form grows insubstantial, and I drift helplessly into reality.

Its always the same.

I wake up alone, my body feeling as if someone's hands had just been holding me ever so gently, my lips slightly swollen, as if they have been claimed many times by another's mouth.

It's always the same, except this time I sit up in bed, and I do not strain helplessly to remember who was in that shadowy, misty place of pleasure with me. The face is clear and appears before my eyes without trouble - a face that is oh so familiar, an object of many mixed emotions. My heart pounds as I stare blindly at the clear blue sky outside my window, for I know that knowing just who that face belongs to changes everything.

It's always the same, except this time I remember.

It's always the same, except this time I can take action.

It's always the same, except now I can make dreams a reality.