Dream Lover

I woke from my beautiful dream, still smiling at it and my dream lover. I kept my eyes closed, savoring the feeling of him lying on top of me for the longest time. I rolled over, bumping into something kind of hard. My eyes shot open and I saw the man himself lying next to me, his black eyes glinting wickedly. I nearly screamed with shock, but he clapped a hand over my mouth before any sound could come out. Once he was sure I wouldn’t scream, he took his hand away.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, only half believing it. “You’re real.”
“Surprise,” he teased. Overcome with emotion, desperate to feel him for the first time in my arms, I attacked him, feeling as much of him as possible, kissing every visible bit of skin, and running my hands through his hair just to know if he was really there and not a part of my imagination. I couldn’t help myself; I laughed out loud.
“You’re real! You’re so beautifully real!”
He laughed with me. “Of course I’m real!” And he rolled over so he was on top. And then it was just like my dream, his beautiful, black curls falling around his eyes, his soft lips kissing the skin of my neck, his black eyes filled with lust and mischief. It gave me a thrill to know this wasn’t a dream and it was really happening.
I felt a hand slip under my shirt and glide against my stomach. It caressed its way up to my bra where he slipped a thumb underneath and rubbed my nipple until it pressed hard against the finger. I tried to stifle a moan, but failed, and it only made him kiss more passionately. He pulled back for a second and tugged at the hem of my shirt, trying to lift it over my head.
I held my arms to my sides and looked away, embarrassed at my body.
“Are you embarrassed, lover?” he asked, looking down on me and smiling. I blushed at the nickname he had given me in my dreams. Of course, in my dreams I was never self-conscious of my body. Why should I be? They were just dreams. But here was a man, a beautiful angel of a man who wanted to look at my body and my history rebelled that thought. No boy I’d ever met had ever expressed an interest in me, even though my friends and family always called me pretty. That was just something they were obligated to do. So how could this man be looking at me with the emotion he had in his eyes now: lust?
“I just -,” I began. “It’s just that nobody’s ever seen me undressed, you know? It’s a little freaky.”
He grinned like he was holding back laughter. He was always laughing, that’s why I liked him so much. It made me feel comfortable, natural in front of him in my dreams, and it was making me feel comfortable now.
“Freaky?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, a smile playing at my own lips. “New. Strange. Different. Scary as mess.”
He ran his hand through my curls, feeling them and pulling at their kinks. “I don’t want it to ever be strange or scary with me. I love you.” And he kissed me without warning. When we broke apart, we were both out of breath. I felt his fingers on my stomach again, gripping the hem of my shirt.
“Arms,” he said, and I obliged this time, letting him lift my shirt over my head and watched as he threw it across the room where it landed on a lamp. He stared hungrily at the swell of my breasts, and I loved it because he loved me. He had said he loved me. He had said it before in my dreams, but it was real now and I believed him. I believed the expression in his eyes and the love in his words and touches.
I held my breath as I saw him lean down, letting it out when he began to place open-mouthed kisses on my chest.
“Not fair,” I gasped. “You still have your shirt on.” He broke away for a second, only to give me a mischievous grin.
“Are you volunteering to take it off?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. I tugged his t-shirt up over his head and threw it across the room like he had. I looked at his bare chest greedily. God, it made me feel inferior compared to how beautiful he was, but when I looked back into his eyes, I didn’t. He looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world. I just couldn’t help thinking he didn’t get out much.
I ran my hands over his stomach, making it tighten as he shuddered at my touch. Having that effect on him made me feel . . . powerful. I kissed as much of him as I could, and he talked to me the whole time.
“I’ve waited so long for you, Marit. You are my beloved, min elskede. Min perle. I want to make love to you,” he groaned. He pulled me up so he could reach behind me to unclasp my bra. And then it was off and I was half bare to him, my chest heaving in anticipation and nervousness. He leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth and I sucked in air. His hand found its way to the other breast and began kneading it, stroking the red line that the bra had left underneath. With all that happening, his words only just registered.
“What?” I squeaked. “Like, sex? I’m only eighteen . . .” My voice trailed off as I realized that I was old enough to have sex with an adult. And then my childish excuse crumbled to dust.
He chuckled and his eyes darkened. “Were you planning to wait till you married?”
“No . . . I mean . . .” This was so embarrassing. “I mean, what if I suck at it? I’ve never done it before . . .” My voice trailed off and I was a little surprised I had been so straightforward with him. Usually, I avoided awkward conversations. But this man, no, this god in front of me didn’t make me feel awkward.
“Mijn schatje, you are perfect and you don’t even realize it. I don’t care. You could never disappoint me.” He flashed his pearly whites, giving me a glimpse of the most heart-warming, endearing smile I’ve ever seen.
Somewhere in the background I heard a toilet flush. Oh shit, Carla, my flat mate was up. We both froze and waited to hear her bedroom door close. Nothing happened. Suddenly we heard footsteps coming down the hallway.
“Shit, hide! She’ll freak if she sees you!” I whispered. Before I could blink, I felt the weight lifted off of me and saw the shadow of a man enter my closet. Just in time too, because my bedroom door cracked open and a sliver of light spilled in from the hallway. I managed to pull the covers up to my chin before she could see anything.
“Mar? Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard a noise,” Carla said, concern in her voice. I rolled over and groaned a little, pretending to just wake up.
“Hmm? Yeah, I didn’t hear anything.” I prayed she wouldn’t look on the other side of the room at my shirt or bra strewn on the lamp. Carla was a real stickler for having guys over.
“Oh. Okay then. Night,” she mumbled, shutting the door slowly behind her.
“Night,” I mumbled back, trying to sound groggy. When I was sure I heard her bedroom door close, I whispered loudly, “You can come out now.”
I saw a dark figure emerge from my closet and saunter over to me, still covered and lying in bed.
“Glad you’re out of the closet now,” I smirked at him.
“Funny. Should you really be teasing me while I have this as blackmail?” I squinted my eyes to try to see what he was holding up in the moonlight. Oh my god.
I leapt off the bed with the sheet around me and tried to yank it from his hand, but he held it up over his head where I couldn’t reach.
“I can’t believe you went through my things!” I whined, still kind of smiling, but I hoped he didn’t see that. “Give them back!”
He laughed, teasing me, and I could tell he was having trouble trying to keep his laugh quiet so we wouldn’t wake Carla.
“Do they even count as panties? I’m curious to see how much it covers up,” he paused, and I tried jumping for it, but he just pulled them higher, “ . . . and how much it doesn’t.”
I glared at him. Until he decided to let them go, there was no way I could get it. Unless . . .
He saw the change in my expression and decided to play along.
“Would you . . . really like to see how much they cover?” I asked innocently, sliding my hands up his chest. I got the desired effect as his eyes glinted. I stretched up a little to kiss the edge of his jaw, and then trailed my lips to his earlobe. We were so close now that my nipples grazed his chest through the sheet I still held around me.
“Would you like me to show you?” I whispered, in what I hoped was a seductive voice. I nibbled his earlobe with my teeth and he shuddered, nodding.
I took advantage of his state, pulling back and jumping up for the thong, managing to yank it from his grasp, but I didn’t get very far. As soon as I turned to try to hide it somewhere, he recovered from the surprise and grabbed my waist, pulling me back. I had to think fast, so I shoved the garment into the waistband of my sweatpants, probably not the best idea, thinking back on it.
He picked me up so I was facing him, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he carried me over to the bed, plopping me down with an “oof,” and staying in position on top of me. It wasn’t the best position to be in, really. I could feel his growing excitement pressing against my nether-regions.
“You think that’s gonna keep them from me?” he smirked. I gulped. Was this what I wanted? To have sex right now? My body was telling me a resounding “hell yes!” but half of my mind said I didn’t want my first time to be like this, trying to keep quiet in my little twin bed while my flat mate was sleeping in the room right down the hallway.
He kissed down my throat, suckling the little heat point on the side, made his way down the valley of my breasts and down my stomach. He paused there and blew a raspberry right next to my bellybutton. It surprised me so much I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What the hell was that?” I giggled at him.
“I didn’t want you to get too serious there. You know I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, right?” he said, reading my mind. His words made my heart threaten to burst with love. This beautiful god cared for me, and was sweet enough not to pressure me into anything.
“I love you,” I told him.
**
She’d said it, and it was so much more beautiful than in her dreams. Here she was, this goddess, telling him that she loved him.
“I love you, too,” was the only thing he could say back. He moved further up until his face was in line with her breasts. He laid his head down on her, one arm wrapped around her back, and the other strewn against her stomach, his fingers making little designs on the sensitive skin of her tummy.
She laughed, a kind of bubbly music that reverberated in her chest as he pressed his ear against it. “What, are you just going to lay there? Are my boobs a good pillow?”
He poked one of them, making her laugh again. “They are, actually,” he grinned, tilting his head up so she could see his smile. He was rewarded with a kiss and a sigh. “Would you like to sleep now?” he asked. He knew she had school again tomorrow.
“Only if you won’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
“Will you sing to me?” she asked him, her voice already heavy with sleep.
Sing to her? “I can’t sing. I suck at it.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorted, but she didn’t press for it. “Well then will you just talk to me? I like to hear you talk.”
“Uh, okay. What do you want me to talk about?”
“Anything you want. Tell me what ‘main shat-ya’ means. What language was that in, anyway?”
“Dutch,” he answered.
“Okay,” she yawned. “Speak to me in Dutch.”
And he did. He told her what “mijn shatje” meant. And then when he was done with that, he told her what he was going to do with her when she was least expecting it.
“En dan zal ik spuit de slagroom in een lijn, slepende tussen je dijen.” He glanced up when her breathing became even.
“Droom zacht, mijn schatje.”