Bruce, Love, Chest Feel, Romance
DAVID 82
Bruce's second dream concludes (from David 81):
At night, he led me out into the moonlight and told me to lie down. He positioned himself next to me and propped himself up on one elbow. With his other hand, he stroked my body softly. Then he cradled my head in the crook of his elbow and reached around my neck and played with my chest. His free hand drifted down between my legs. In no time I was squirming and moaning. He nuzzled my chest. His left hand touched my nipple, his right hand stroked my cock, and his lips brushed against my other nipple.
We stayed like that for a long time, and then he topped me, but with his head between my legs. I was gasping for breath. His hard cock was on my face, and I wanted to suck it and lick it, but what he was doing between my legs with his tongue and mouth made me moan and pant so hard I was useless. All I could do was wrap my arms around his massive thighs, revel in the warmth of his cock moving across my face and warn him over and over again that I was about to cum. He finally jacked me off. The orgasm was one of the most powerful I’ve ever had.
As I recovered, he cradled my head again in the crook of his elbow and stroked and petted me. I looked up at him, but he was just a black shape against the moon. Finally, I heard him say, “Tired?”
I smiled and nodded.
He rolled onto his back. “Come here,” he said.
I rolled over onto my side and scooted up next to him.
“No, no. Up here,” he said, and he patted his chest.
“On top of you?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
I felt very awkward, which is bizarre given all the things we’d done to each other’s bodies, but I maneuvered myself over him, straddled him, and then lay face down on top of him, my face on his chest.
“You can put all your weight on me,” he said. “You’re holding yourself up. Relax.”
I realized that I was rigid, and not completely at ease. “Won’t I be too heavy?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
I lifted my legs from the sand and cuddled up on top of him. Once I got relaxed, I curled up slightly to one side. I thought to myself that all I needed now was a warm blanket to nuzzle and a teddy bear. The rising and falling of his chest lulled me to sleep, and the last thing that I remember thinking was that I did have a warm blanket and a teddy bear… underneath me.
Next, I remember looking around. Something seemed profoundly different. Something seemed awfully wrong. It was very bright; the kind of glare you get with too many fluorescent lights in the room. It was silent. There was no wind, no waterfall. It was like we were in a giant, enclosed room.
He was carrying me. I was utterly confused. I looked around. The trees were still there, but they looked wrong. I stared at them until I figured out what was wrong. They were flat, like cut-out cardboard props.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Home,” he answered.
“What? No!” I looked up at his face. It was utterly emotionless. His quietness made him seem angry, resolute, almost uncaring. “Noo!” I whined. I can still hear myself. I sure didn’t sound like an adult. I sounded just like a little boy being told he had to leave Disneyland early.
“Nooooo, I don’t wanna leave!”
He said nothing.
“But why?” Why?”
“Dream’s over.”
And you see, in the back of my mind, I knew it was a dream, even in my dream. But I pretended like it was never going to end if we just kept playing along. And I still tried. “No. No. No. It’s not a dream.”
He said nothing.
“I don’t wanna go!”
He just stared straight ahead and continued to carry me.
“Noooooooo,” I whined. And suddenly I looked around again, and saw that the trees were melting. It was as if our little tropical world had been a vast and beautiful watercolor painting, and now we were out in a rain that washes away dreams. Everything turned into a mottled greenish-brown mess around us. I was devastated. My world. My man. My warmth at night. My twinkling blue eyes so happy to see me. Gone. My chin started to tremble. I rested my head against his chest. I stroked his pecs, wondering if by chance I had the power to stop him with that.
“That won’t do any good,” he said.
So I just continued to stroke his chest just because I wanted to, because in a little while I wouldn’t be able to. And to add to this, I suddenly felt the nearness of my bedroom, and I longed to see the greenish-brown mess again. I had the strange feeling that if he put me in my bed, I would somehow not be able to leave it to follow him, as if something would hold me there.
There was huge lump in my throat. Without looking up at him, I said, “Don’t you love me anymore?” I pouted because I couldn’t help it. My chin trembled. Tears welled up in my eyes.
“I do,” he said.
“Then why do we have to go?” My nose was running. I sniffed and wiped the tears from my eyes.
He didn’t answer.
“Oh please! I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay here with you!” And suddenly, we were in my bedroom. “No! No, please!” He placed me in my bed. I was crying. I knelt in the bed and fought the urge to reach out to him as he walked away. The fact that he seemed almost angry made it so much worse, and then, in that strange way that revelations come in dreams, I realized something. I thought that maybe he wasn’t mad; maybe he was even more upset than me, and that he just couldn’t bring himself to think about it. I don’t think that’s such a smart thing to do, mind you, and I have no reason to think that that’s how he operates, but in dreams you just know things, or wish things. There seemed to be certain laws of physics that came into play when dreams end: trees melt like watercolors and those who love you most don’t allow themselves to feel anything precisely because they love you so much. Even so, I called out to him. “Come back!” I said, tears in my eyes.
And THEN I saw emotion. I saw him stop. I saw him fight to keep on walking away. Finally he turned to me, on the verge of tears himself.
And then the strangest thing happened. He suddenly seemed very calm. At peace. And then, slowly, a smile crept across his face and he looked at me as though he was trying to tell me something. As I said, in dreams you just know things, and that smile made me think that he knew we’d be together again… that he would be thinking of me… and waiting.
Then I woke up. I had a lump in my throat. I stayed in bed feeling a bit traumatized to tell you the truth. I turned the alarm off because I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, and I went over to the window and looked outside. There were thin wisps of mist over the East River. I wondered if he was here in Manhattan or back in Texas. I wondered if I would ever see him. And then I sighed and thought that at least, in my dreams, I know I will.
2003