Once more she watched as he removed his plaid, folding it carefully and laying it on the stand beside her bed. His approach familiar, quiet, and without words. He held her face tenderly in his calloused hands, his breath gentle and confident. Tonight, unlike other nights, she dreamed they were in her room at home, laying stripped of their clothes, naked flesh melding into one, as they joined. Often in these dreams, she would find herself beside her imagined lover in a secluded glen, a moor with rolling fields of aromatic heather and the hearty thistle. The last rays of a nonchalant setting sun beating orange and rouge as it began to close its eyes to the day, allowing dusk to creep into her mind's vivid and lucid apparition. He would be with her all night.
She urged her lily-soft palms as they pressed against his bare and naked chest to feel his heat, allowing him to warm her thoroughly; he could warm her deeply as no man, in reality, had ever been capable of doing. His warrior heart beat steadily upon her skin, pulsating, sending rhythmic vibrations through her wanting form. If she closed her eyes even a slight bit more she could feel each vibration as it penetrated into her very soul.
Softly, only barely moving his strong long fingers, he traced along the softer form of her breast. Erotic quivers of desire rippled over her, tiny pinpoints of pleasure now vivid on her nude exposed flesh. She trembled with excitement, the anticipation of his hardness pressing inward on her thigh. Gently, he moved his right hand to drape hers to assist her with his desire for touch. She never fought him.
Was he truly only an imagined lover? Would he ever manifest himself, showing her that true and sustainable love does exist in a world so cruel as to have enslaved her mind to this, her only means of escape from what others would call reality? She had never seen his face fully, he had never allowed it. Perhaps he was just that, an image, a thought, or perhaps he was waiting for her to leave her true and sustainable reality for what would be a better and more fulfilling fantasy; his idea of truth.
(Written by Jude Stringfellow 1/4/2023)
Photo Credit: Pinterest
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