DAVID 91
[It seems someone can’t stop dreaming about a certain someone. (See David 78, 80, 81 & 82)]
I can’t sleep.
It’s three in the morning and I can’t get you out of my mind. It’s a warm night, and I’ve got all the windows upstairs open. There’s a weak, tepid breeze blowing the curtains in, and instead of cooling me, it’s setting my skin on fire because every time it blows across my back, it’s like your caress. I’m lying on the top of the bed. It’s too hot to wear anything.
Oh god I wish you were here.
I need you. I need you bad. It’s hot outside, but there’s something within me like a consuming furnace. My cock is throbbing so bad right now. It’s straining, aching almost. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before. I’ve been jackin’ off but it doesn’t do any good. Half an hour later I’m hard again, thinking of you. I took my underwear off because every time I moved, my cock would rub against the cloth and leave me breathless. I put on that smooth thong you gave me but the back of it drove me mad. I tore it off. All I can think of was that feeling that lingered there, that tingle between my ass cheeks… and that your cock, your tongue, your hands should be there. Right now. I took off my t-shirt because the tag kept tickling the back of my neck like you do. I took a cool shower but it didn’t to any good. The soap… oh god, the soap and my hands. So slippery… across my skin… everywhere.
I wish you’d come home.
Please? Please come home. You can do anything you want to me, okay? And I’ll do anything you want.
I don’t want to have to jack off again. I want you. Oh I want you so bad. I’d rip off your clothes and carry you to the bed if you were here. Or maybe I wouldn’t carry you to the bed. I’d slam the door and take you right there. I’d beg for your lips, your hands, your cock. I want to rub my face all over you and breathe you in, take you in. I don’t want anybody else. You’re the only one that knows how to do it just right. You know where to touch me. You know how to do it. You know all my secret spots.
I don’t know how to answer other people when they ask why a guy like me “is with a guy like him”. What do they mean, “a guy like him”? I think you’re sexy as hell. You drive me wild. Even when you’re not here.
I want to fuck these pillows right now, and pretend that they’re you.
What am I gonna do? I think I’m going crazy.
I keep thinking of all the things you’ve done to me, and how, even though I’m so big and strong, you can bring me to my knees… reduce me to a whimpering, squirming, gasping, moaning, helpless mass who begs for more… who loves it when you’re in control. How I hang on tight to you when I cum… how safe I feel in those moments when I’m so utterly naked, defenseless, and paralyzed… how I struggle not to shudder when you do certain things to me, and yet how thinking of them now makes me shudder. How my heart stops for a second when you bring out the cock ring you had made for me, or that special lube, or… the… Ohhh please come home. Please.
And… when you do that… kinky thing? Oh my god… I… I’m desperate… starving for that right now. I never thought I’d like that, but I cum so hard when you do it. It almost frightens me—it’s so intense. I need it. Oh god. I need you. I need to kiss you. I need to see your eyes. I need to hear your voice. I need to feel your hands on me. I need you to hold me. I need to fall asleep in your arms. Please, please come home.
2003