Late for a Deadline: The Dream

How long did he kiss me?  I don’t know.  Did I want him to stop?  Never!  Was I losing my mind? Of course.  Have I lost all sense of control?  Most definitely.  What was I going to do now?  I hadn’t the foggiest idea.

He kissed me senseless.  I kid you not.  When he finally released my lips, all I could do was stare back a him.  I don’t remember how I got there, but what seemed like just a blink of my eyes, I found myself sitting back down on the sofa, but this time Steve was sitting before me upon the ottoman.  His hands gently lying upon my knees.  I had been calm but now I could feel the trembling returning and so could he for it traveled through my legs as though they were the San Andreas fault line.

His fingers not only grasped me firmer just above my knees but also massaged my thighs gently to ease the trembling.  I don’t know how he knew what to do. I only know what he did worked. It eased though I knew it was still hovering under the surface and so did he.

He smiled as he saw my hands become fists as I stuffed them under my legs. “I’ve seen you do that so many times over the years.  It took me a bit to realize it meant you were nervous. You don’t need to be nervous, I’m not going to hurt you.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He had no idea how much I was already hurting. “We can’t do this, Steve.” I mumbled.

“Do what, Kate?”

“We can’t get involved.”

“Why not?”

“It will ruin your career.”

He smiled at me. “No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it will. Please. Please, just go. This can’t go any further than it already has.” I pleaded with him, while my leg shook in agitation, I leaned forward, stuffing my hands down into the cushions under my legs. My hands were sweaty and ice cold. Tremors vibrated my shoulders and upper arms. My voice quavered as I forced the words out of my throat.

“Kate. Don’t you realize what my transfer means?” Confusion reigned on my face and in my thoughts. “You don’t, do you? Even though you said it earlier. You are right. You don’t work for me any longer. I’m not your boss. That means there isn’t anything standing between us any more. As long as I was your boss, I couldn’t come near you. Then two months ago, they offered me this new position. I took it because of you. I wanted us to be able to explore all this hidden tension between us. I’ve felt it since you came to work for me and I think you have too.”

I couldn’t stop the denial.  It had become such a part of me since the first day I saw him. I had denied my attraction to him except in the fantasies I created in my mind. At work, I allowed none of it to show, or so I had thought. Closing my eyes, I kept shaking my head and saying the words, “No. No. No.” in a soft litany until he brought his hands up trapping my face between them to stop the motion and the words.

“Stop it.” He advised or rather insisted upon, as my eyes flew open at his boldness. “Talk to me. Don’t just sit there and say No, tell me why.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all wrong. That someone wasn’t pulling some kind of cruel joke on me. It wasn’t possible that my dreams could all come true. I just knew if I gave in, him or someone would start laughing, calling me a stupid bitch for believing everything I had dreamed of was possible.

I looked at him. I could feel the tears welling up. I could feel my throat closing off. I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

He saw my distress and slipped effortlessly from the ottoman onto the sofa and wrapped me in his strong arms. He held me and let me cry, releasing all that I had locked up tight inside of me. I dared not hope, but with him pressing me so close, with my ear resting against his chest, hearing the unmistakable beat of his heart, steady and strong, hope started to bubble to the surface with every spent tear drop.

I had never cried so much in my whole life. Once the tears finally stopped, I was exhausted. Before my cheeks had a chance to dry, heavy eyelids closed shut. I fought to keep them open but the repetitive motion of Steve’s hand gently cupping the crown of my head, sliding down, lacing his fingers in my hair, giving just a gentle tug I could feel all the way from my scalp to my heart, lulled me, comforted me and lured me into sleep. My last thoughts drifted off wondering how I could enjoy someone tugging on my hair, how could it give me so much comfort, enough to allow myself to fall asleep?


I don’t know how long I slept. I only know I was having the most wonderful dream of warm soft  lips, and hot probing tongue, and strong hands unbelievably gentle seeking, searching, touching, caressing, finding their way to soft warm skin.

I feel myself turn in towards the embrace encompassing me. I refused to think what it meant, all I wanted to do was feel. Even if it was for only a moment while the dream lasted. I curled into the heat of a solid warm body. Feeling arms holding me, comforting me, hands soothing me, warm soft lips kissing me, first on the lips, his tongue probing as I relaxed into his kiss and let him slip past my defenses.

I knew in my mind if I knew it was a dream then I was no longer dreaming but I didn’t listen. I pushed those thoughts away. I let myself believe in the dream. I let my body awaken to the gentleness of his touch while keeping all thoughts submerged hidden and unacknowledged. All I wanted to do was feel. It had been so long since I had felt a man’s touch. I didn’t care if it was only in a dream. I lay awash within its essence. My lips kissed him back. My tongue danced and played the tango with his. He tasted warm, moist, and provocative.

Deep within I felt someone I had long thought lost, become awake, and slowly emerge from the dark rabbit hole. I felt her like a ghost entering and merging, embracing my spine, each part of her fitting inside of me like a lost puzzle piece. Her arms became my arms. Her fingers became my fingers. Her lips became my lips. Her thoughts became my thoughts. Her movements became my movements. And on and on it went until there was no discerning separation between her and me.

My lips sought his. My tongue licked, tasted the curve and hollow of his lips, finding its way along a long forgotten pathway to touch, then press, seeking to enter, then taste some more, merging and marrying our saliva, tracing the edge feeling the contours of canines and incisors, then finally reaching beyond to say hello and hold communion with the wonderous creation which is rarely considered just how many amazing uses a simple tongue can convey.

This simple act created flickers of sparks igniting the cold embers which had lay dormant within me for so long. I no longer cared if it was a dream or reality. I only knew I didn’t want it to stop. I could feel her encouraging me. Her fingers within me stretching out, feeling the fabric beneath them, my mind enjoyed the contours, the curves and valleys so very different from my own. Texture and heat drew me like a moth to flame.

I refused to open my eyes. I knew once I opened them the illusion of dreaming would vanish completely. I embraced the layers of cottony goodness surrounding thought, only allowing clarity where all my other senses merged to focus upon this man who had invaded my dreams.

His smell was earthy, of musk, and heat, of arousal and man. That earthy smell no chemistry technician can ever mimic. My lips traveled down his jaw seeking the hollow softness where jaw and neck meet. Tasting with the tip of my tongue, his salty essence enveloping the prickly texture of his emerging beard. No doubt my cheek was already slightly reddened from the irresistible urge to brush against him rejoicing in the knowledge and feel of the form of man so vastly different from my own.

I recognized his smell. I had lived with it for years. More so in the past few years because of working so much closer with him. Every time I reviewed a report with him our bodies were drawn together, sometimes with me leaning over his shoulder to point out a particular statistic or fact. Each time I could not resist inhaling his scent. Each time with the same result. An awakening and wetness gathering. Each time temptation nudged, became the jokester, poking and prodding, each time was a struggle to suppress and deny.

I shoved denial away. I allowed the sparks to ignite into flame. I blamed it on my sleep induced mind and the shedevil which had risen to consume me. I tasted with my fingers, with my tongue, with my mind all that I desired and had denied myself over the years.

My arms encircled his body. I pulled him in closer. I felt his hands tasting me in slow careful doses, heating my skin with each touch so gentle I felt my mind scream from the torture of needing more.

I moaned and writhed with desire, wrapping my leg around his, pressing my mound against his thigh, rubbing, trying to rid myself of its need, only inflaming it, making its need rise harsh and sharp against his trouser leg, against the hard muscle of his thigh. His hand cupped one cheek pulling me in tighter, his breathing exploding upon my neck, heating searing me.

Neither of us stopped due to our uncomfortable positions. Instead, he shifted, lying down upon his back, spreading me out along his body, shifting my parts to press strategically upon his, igniting flames into an inferno.

Pressing, rubbing, aware of his hardness ignited my desire, my need to remove all barriers. He seemed to be on the same page as our mouths met, joined, shared, tasted, while his hands stripped bare, popping buttons bounced upon the laminate floor sometimes thudding softly as they met upon the textured rug I loved curling my bare toes within on those days when my body craved things I never thought I’d have again.

He slowed for a moment when he released my breast from confinement. He watched as the gossamer material floated away carrying with it, the one thing which lay hidden.

Shockwaves of anxiety suddenly flooded my mind, my body. The dreamscape broken, shattered into a million shards. He felt me stiffen. Felt the anxiety splinter around us, in that shattering moment, he moved faster than any superhero could, flipping me under him, leaving me no room for escape.

Then before I could gasp a single intake of air, he descended upon me with loving lips, healing tongue, and the melting moist heat of his breath. Tongue and lips traced the ugly path of the scar which reached to almost my breast bone, across the right side of my chest and ended under my arm. He made love to me, to it, as though it were the most precious thing in the world to him. Tears slipped from my eyes unbeknownst to me. I wanted to yank him from his devotion but I needed this. My mind, my body, my soul needed this more than I needed air to breathe.

About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in Erotic Fiction, Erotica and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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