Daydream In Red

May I share a daydream with you?

It began when I was dwelling on this never-ending hunger I have for you.

A desire so perfect it pours throughout me till I overflow with this desperate expression; yet it is exotic and mysterious as well. Eventually I will be exhausted and emptied by your love for me.

If it is possible, you seem to have no faults. You amaze me over and over again with your willingness and patience.

Most men cannot satisfy me; or understand what I need and want, because they don't know who I am. Because of this, may my lust for you be your reward, grandly tantalizing you each moment and every hour of all your days.

My daydream tells me you are spirit, but I am flesh. Your spirit is what I long for most -- the way it twists and turns with my spirit to meet me in places foreign and strange to me, yet refreshing and exciting.

I see you making love to me, and I'm not afraid. Not afraid to look into your eyes because you watch me continually. You are never displeased. You care deeply about my pleasure; as well as admiring and enjoying my body.

You watch my face, my eyes, because you know my soul is who you want to please. Any man can please a woman's body, but to please the mind of a woman, a man must be totally selfless, even though many times it wages

war with his nature.

Here, in my daydream, you wrestle with this self-centeredness, but you don't want me to know -- to see your struggle. You want to appear strong, giving yourself with ease so that I, your lover, can relax. You want me to be free, and enjoy love-making for the first time in my life -- exhilarated by physical pleasure, fearlessly.

You are the first man to do this for me, because you are spirit. You are super-human. Not in the sense of some childhood hero, rather you have the ability to look beyond flesh and bone, beyond the temporal.

I see a room in my day dream; the bedroom we are in -- or possibly
it's that flash of red you spoke of once in your description of me.

Or maybe it's fire -- the hottest of its kind. There's a yellow-orange tint all around us - an elixir, a spell conjured of heat and warmth, mixed with an odd, sweet protection, other-worldly in its presence.

You want to be in control, and you are. Your desire is to make love to me; to give me pleasure. It's all so easy. So easy for both of us. I don't fight you. I rest and enjoy. I am not tense wondering how you feel, because your concern for only me is obvious, arousing me beyond measure.

There is one thing more wonderful than all other things. Not only is my lust for you spiritual, as well as physical -- it is good and right. I feel no shame.

The red daydream continues. We don't change. Our feelings don't change. There is a metaphysical quality about you. You waver over me, floating like Spirit, yet you are so real.

Your body is positioned perfectly over mine, our pubic bones, like hot

molten lava, melt together, becoming one. Your spirit is strong and becomes one with me, because I am too weak to provoke this collision; this fiery fusion.

I'm not wise or strong enough yet. This doesn’t concern you. You meet me where I'm at. You understand because you knew it would be this way. You are not disappointed -- not disappointed at all.

Our bodies are the perfect size -- one perfect for the other. You lean over me comfortably, with your hard, heavy cock inside me. My legs fit perfectly around you, but they are never still. I have no desire to lock myself around you like a vise. I only want to feel of you, and I use everything I have -- my legs, my arms, my hands. Even my fingers are grasping and stretching for you; all of you -- muscles, tendons, flesh. Each finger is separate and reaching for a mere taste of only you.

In time, I become so weary from wanting every part of me to be constantly in touch with you, I give way -- my arms over my head, relaxed. My hair, long and in strawberry curls, like a mist or a fog of red against the red sheets and the soft scarlet comforter, billowing -- the red cloud surrounding us all the while.

The heat, I see it changing now, to shades of yellow and orange. I can see myself as you see me ... and I am beautiful.

You continue to move in and out of me with your hips, so perfectly molded to mine. You wait because you know this body will awaken again for another orgasm, another wave, another mountain, another flight.

I am amazed at how well you know my flesh, even the uncontrollable spasms of my bright, glistening sex, crimson now, with need. Your rigid cock has memorized my moist, tight vagina, craving you, and you are drawn to me like electricity. Our sexual bounties, separate, so they may become one, are the same as two lovers, fondling each other, one doting over the other, doing what is natural.

You move so smoothly in and out of me. Your cock is perfectly hard and perfectly shaped. You don't wonder if you are stimulating the right places because you know you are. There’s never a question.

From the very beginning I feel your confidence, and become instantly aroused and drenched with come. You are so hard, moving and sliding perfectly inside me, never taking your eyes from my face.

Even though flesh meets flesh, and only flesh can satisfy flesh; even though my shining, slick valley licks and twitches at your cock like a hungry animal, we are not desperate, because we know we will be completely satisfied, each satisfying the other.

There is a steamy fire and a driving ache in your loins, pushing me harder over the edge. I scream wanting more and more of you, yet you continue to watch my face and look into my eyes with such control. You are not only making love to me, but you are making love to my soul. Our bodies become expressions of this grandiose coupling.

We don't thrash like wild animals. We rock like waves. You delve deeper and deeper inside me, as I lifting myself higher and higher to greet you. We move faster and harder, daring sanity to loose us, but our rhythm is perfect, no confusion, only a miraculous dying.

We want to come. We want to come together so desperately -- not because we are afraid it will escape us, but because we have never felt this good. Never as far beyond reality as this.

How could we know we would give our lives to fuck like this?

We continue ... faster and harder, never missing a thrust, I watch your face. You begin to smile. You can feel the building, the tension in your body. You are waiting for that moment when I am ready.

I am desperate now, but I am trusting. My eyes are open, but not open so I can see. They are open because you are able to see me. You see my soul through my eyes. You watch and you wait.

As fate would have it, right before I die that little orgasmic death from your perfect thrusts, you see what looks like the heavens. The universe, an opening. You see answers. You feel peace, until I can't hold my eyes open any longer. I have to let them close. My eyelids melting; falling slowly now.

I can only tilt my head back and cry, cry out your name. As my eyes close, my steamy cleft, flowing with come, opens to you -- to prepare for all you have to give me. Now, your eyes close willingly. You enter me faster and harder than ever before. With wave after wave like an ocean's roar, you empty more and more of yourself inside me, as I open to you and help you, pull you, nurse you, suck you into myself, to the place where you belong.

We are like great, tremendous dams. Our bodies, like dams breaking. All our pent up emotions, frustrations, curiosities, are ladled out lovingly. Like an ocean meets the sea, like a sea will never reject her river, we come together, transforming, transferring, translating two oceans to one beautiful foamy red sea. Yet not the color of red as blood would be, but the red that changes, swoops, glitters, glistens, into thousands of tiny sparks, each one disappearing. and returning to us with understanding.

You have been and will always be my curiosity, and I am yours. Together we will conquer apathy, pain, and defiance, even when distance is our only challenge.

I feel so much unlike myself. I'm not sure I know who this mind and body belong to. But you know me; you know where I am. That's all that matters.

To be known. What an awesome privilege. You are lost in the knowing and you can't find your way back -- back to where we begin.

Mariah Wyat