Midsummer wet dream.
A dream that I’ll never forget. I was laying in my bed during a hot Miami night. Completely naked, I had all fans running and the windows cracked. Beads of sweat ran down my face and my thighs dampened my sheets. It was so hard to sleep. I was rubbing ice chips down the back of my neck to imagine a colder climate. Finally, the early morning breeze began to cool me down and I faded into a deep midsummer wet dream. My slumber dragged me into a nightmare at first, as heat usually ensues. I was surrounded by darkness and disturbing thoughts and images.
Then, I saw him.
Light and colors began to live again in my dreams. He came up to me and took my hand. Walking down to the lake, a picnic blanket appeared. We sat and drank cold lemonade. He picked a few flowers by my feet and placed them in my hair. I saw his face so clearly. No other dream has allowed such realistic images. He had beautiful long brown hair with beams of blonde strands flowing close to his hairline. His eyes green, surrounded by long black eyelashes and a body hard not to notice. I was in love and in my very own world.
Meanwhile, he ran his fingers across my lips, dipping his thumb inside momentarily.
It slid back out as he leaned in and kissed me. He laid me down and slowly unbuttoned my little white cotton blouse. Beginning to lick down my chest towards my belly, he found the zipper to my yellow skirt in the process. He began to pull down and he started to look back up at me. I couldn’t help but smile. He pulled my panties to the side and kissed me. His lips felt cold from the lemonade still and sent a quiver up my body. He got up and took off his pants. It was the only thing I couldn’t see in the dream. It was as if my own brain had censored me from myself. He approached me while I lay there and spread my legs farther apart with his knees.
He moved inside of me and the feeling was unreal.
Although I couldn’t see it, I felt it as if it had really happened. My midsummer wet dream was so realistic. I moaned and cried and even tasted his sweat. We came together and I felt him explode inside of me. He filled me up with warm bliss, and the sweat from making love began to cool me down. We fell asleep, never to see each other again.
My midsummer wet dream made all of the heat bearable that warm night in July.
After waking, I felt refreshed, though my bedsheets seemed to have gotten wet from my cerebral rendezvous. I slid my finger between my legs and pressed it to my lips, and I swear I could taste him again. Now, when the air begins to cool in the winter, I close my eyes and think of him. I touch myself and stay warm and toasty while thinking of him between my thighs.
Did my dream make you sweat? Thinking about those Missed Covid Opportunities?
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