Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The University of Memphis Lines: 51 Message-ID: 2vajep$7n5@amhux3.amherst.edu NNTP-Posting-Host: amhux3.amherst.edu Keywords: mm X-Moderator-Review: 6: too short to say much
Archive-name: ExcerptDream
(Excerpt from a letter, June 8, 1994)
I awoke to find myself in a very large bed. There were three other guys in the bed all to one side of me. Apparently, we were attending a conference or something like that and the four of us were staying in a hotel room. For some reason in this dream beds were large enough to accommodate four comfortably.
I was on the far left side lying on my stomach. Neil was to my immediate right. I was very conscious of the weight of his body pressing down on the bed beside me. And was very conscious of the hormonal stirrings as a result of this.
Neil for your information is a young god of sexuality (at least to me). Messy, short-cropped, dirty-blonde hair. Sparkling, dark eyes. Full, sensuous lips. A chest so muscular, yet undefined, uncut. And thighs and calves that would put the pillars of the Parthenon to shame. The one that I have seen in nothing but swimming trunks, dripping wet. The one to whom my hormones act as a radio receptor to every crackle in his voice. This is the one who was laying beside me in the same bed in the middle of the night.
And he stirred in his sleep. He moved himself onto his side, and his hand (oh, that thick, heavy hand) fell on my shoulder and then slid down my back and stopped. He was still asleep.
I should have done nothing more than enjoy the sheer physical pleasure of his flesh on mine, but instead I moved my arm around his neck, and my hand dragged across his face and over those thick, beautiful lips. And stopped. In fear. In excitement. In desire.
A tentative pause. He was not asleep. And his eyes met mine. Silence. And then somehow our legs were tangled together. Once again, his flesh touching mine. I rolled over on my back and then he slid up, slowly, quietly, to meet me.
Our eyes remained locked as his face rose over mine and then stopped, looming there, waiting. He was unsure. That's what it was. It was all in the eyes. But to feel the vulnerability, the uncertainty of someone whose entire beautiful weight is above you is... unspeakable.
The eyes were one thing, the lips... another. I wanted.... I killed any fear mercilessly as I pulled at those lips with my own. A religious experience not to be equalled. It was not so much in the wanting, the desiring for so long, not even so much in the intense passion, attraction,... but the slow and cautious movements, the complete silence that we had to keep in everything we did. But that was only the first dream. -- Moderator, rec.arts.erotica. Submissions to erotica@unix.amherst.edu. Please, no reposts, first drafts, or requests for "subscriptions," stories, GIFs, or archive sites.