I am curled up in bed. I have just drifted off and I’m in that hazy place between sleep and awake. Your voice calls my name, “It’s me. Don’t be scared, I’m here, it’s just me . . . ”
You’ve come to crawl into bed with me, to hold me because you needed to see my face and feel my skin under your hands. You left your own warm, cozy bed because you couldn’t stand another moment without my scent, my voice, my heart near yours.
You drove to my house and parked quietly on the street. You crept up the stairs and put your key in the lock. You know, the key I keep conveniently forgetting to ask to get back from you because I’m secretly hoping this fantasy will come true.
You turn the key silently and open the door with the same stealth. Jack perks up, but isn’t too alarmed as you do have a key. You whisper his name and tell him it’s just you and he sighs and lays his weary head back down on his paws. He cocks his eyebrow at you and you reward him with a quick pat on the head.
You then take off your shoes without using your hands and tiptoe downstairs to my bedroom. You turn the hall light on so as not to alarm me as some strange man calling my name in complete darkness. When you open my door it casts just enough light across the room that I will identify you at once when I open my eyes.
You come to the side of my bed and crouch down and say my name in a whispered hush. You repeat it a couple of times and then say “it’s me, don’t be scared, I’m here, it’s just me” and begin to climb into bed next to me. I shake my head a bit and begin to sweep the haziness from my thoughts, “where’d you come from?” I ask with a smile and reach my arm around you to pull you close into the warm cocoon of my down-filled bed.
You don’t say another word, but cover my mouth with yours. Soft and tenderly you kiss me and touch my face with your fingers. Soon, your kiss becomes more. I am kissing you desperately and hard. You are kissing me even harder. I begin to shudder and realize it is because your hand has found its way down to my breast and is kneading it gently. My hands too find their way south and are feeling you, soaking you in. Your mouth leaves mine and travels to my throat, my neck, my chest. I am pulling at your t-shirt and tug it up over your head as you do the same to mine. We both grab for our own pants to remove all the unnecessary excess that is in our way.
You pull me close and the first thing you want from me is just to feel my skin on yours. I am desperately holding you tight, wanting you to be nearer and nearer. We are kissing again and your tongue pushes deep into my mouth. There is more of you I want deep inside of me. I push to be over you so I can part my legs and you can enter . . .
