Author's Note: Apologies for the faux second person narration. I... wrote this with the intent of doing an audio recording of it, but chickened out.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

"I had a dream about you last night.

It wasn't the kind of dream I'm used to. I wasn't running from anything. There wasn't this underlying feeling of fear. No sensation of needing to kneel and bend to the will of the other people in my dream. Other people… there was just you this time. That was different, too. Oddly, it was comforting. Serene, even if uncomfortable for reasons initially unknown to me.

We were sitting on a couch and a movie was playing. We weren't really watching it, I don't think. I can't remember what the movie was, and it doesn't matter, but I would kinda like to know to see if it was a movie that we might actually watch together. That's nothing but a curiosity, really.

Anyway, we were on the couch together. I sat in one corner, and you sat in the other. Whether that was coincidental or out of nervousness or upset, I didn't know, but it was clear we were both a little uncomfortable. I had my arms crossed over my midsection, and you were leaning into the arm of the couch, like pulling yourself as far away from me as you could.

There was this undertone of sadness. I didn't know what happened before that. Dream me learned it all as I did, like when I'm writing. I'm not even sure there was a before that until the dream progressed, to be honest.

The movie wasn't holding my interest. I don't think it was holding yours, either. My mind was racing with, well, basically everything but the movie. Was I fantasizing about us? Obsessing over earlier interactions between us? I wasn't certain. It was completely unclear in my recollection from the dream at that point.

What was clear was that you seemed frustrated with yourself and I seemed a little upset. Maybe you said something you wished you hadn't. Maybe I did something you wished I hadn't. The details around that aspect were still murky.

My mind reeled, and I got lost in my thoughts in the dream. It was this weird dream within a dream thing. There were some thoughts of laughter and smiles that raced along, an awkward hug that lasted maybe a few seconds longer than necessary, and a sigh of relief from one of us. I'm not sure which, but I think it was you. There was a car I wasn't familiar with. Dark grey, maybe even black, interior. Nice, but not flashy. Clean. I was surprised by that, and you feigned a moment of disgust quickly followed by a deep laugh. It brought a blush to my cheeks as I realized I'd basically insulted you without meaning to.

You drove and I sat in the passenger seat, eyes focused on the world beyond the glass as you pointed out various things you thought would fascinate me. History related things, good and bad. You weren't wrong, I was hanging onto your every word as we drove.

A rabbit ran in the road a few hundred feet in front of us. With dusk approaching, I wasn't sure you saw it. I yelled, "Stop!" as my hand moved over and grasped yours. Your reaction was quick as I screwed my eyes tightly closed, and you slammed on the brakes.

"Did it make it across?" My tone practically begged you to lie to me if it hadn't.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, it did, look," your thumb rubbed across my hand, and I hesitantly opened my eyes. You were pointing toward the tall grass. I saw a large brown bunny sitting on the side of the road and felt the air rush back into my lungs.

It looked back at us like it wanted to cuss you out for cutting it so close. I breathed a sigh of relief, and it bounded off into the tall grass. In that moment, I felt exhausted, like all of my mental energy got used up in needing the bunny to be safe. I was glad there were no cars behind us. I feel like you wouldn't have stopped, and I would've spent the rest of the car ride crying while trying to pretend I wasn't. It would've been messy for both of us and would've set this trip off on a bad path right away.

I was also grateful it was almost night time. I'd always felt more alive and connected to nature at night. Night was my domain. My thumb caressed yours. Our hands hadn't parted and you didn't seem to mind, so I didn't either.

The drive felt much too short. You pulled into a parking space, and your hand moved away from mine. I almost squeezed yours, keeping us connected a moment longer, but I refrained and let you separate from me.

Gratitude washed over me as I stepped out of the car.

It was nice to be somewhere that was 'else,' though I didn't know why I wasn't in the place I didn't want to be, or where that place even was. We'd been friends for years; I knew that much, at least.

You wanted to eat.

I wanted a shower.

I couldn't eat, everything was too new, and my anxiety meant if I tried, I'd likely get rather sick. It wasn't a fun thing to work around. So we parted ways at the door to the hotel. I brought my bag in and got checked in.

You'd changed my reservation, apparently. From a single room to a suite. I was going to be staying a while and you wanted me to have the space so I didn't get claustrophobic in a cramped little hotel room for a month. It was sweet but unnecessary. Though, I imagined the room wouldn't be only mine. It seemed you were likely to stay with me, for a while anyway.

The first thing I did was unpack. My mind, my clothes, my paraphernalia, which, by the way, I hid beneath my clothes. I gathered you likely didn't know about any of that. If you had, I would've laid them all out right atop the dresser. No, hidden meant secret. Secret meant I was keeping that from you. Maybe I didn't want to freak you out or set up some sort of expectation of what I wanted while there. Most likely, though, it was because this wasn't meant to be anything but a visit and those things were for me when I was alone. A reprieve from... something difficult. Still couldn't recall what.

It made sense. I didn't do well with personal difficulties. Maybe you invited me over to keep an eye on me. There was a flash in the dream of bandages and a hospital room. Nothing clear about it. I rubbed my wrists at the intrusion and shook off the faint recollection. Needed to get back to my suitcase, unpacking thoughts could wait, I decided.

You called up to my room and asked me if I was certain I didn't want anything to eat, making a show of how good the cheesecake looked. You knew cheesecake was one of the few sweets I genuinely loved. "I'm good," I said, smiling even though we weren't on a video call. "I just want to scrub the ick of travel off of me and go to bed, to be honest."

Your deep laughter was nice. It made me smile bigger and I looked to the ground, bashful even when you couldn't see me. "How long should I stay gone?" you asked.

"You don't have to stay gone. The front desk has a key for you, too, since you changed my reservation and all. Just go get it and come up whenever you want."

"You sure?" Your laughter died down with a slightly uncomfortable suddenness.

"I'm sure. If I'm still in the shower, just wait for me, I guess."

"No barging in, then?"

My smile grew and I rolled my eyes before I responded, "No. No barging in."

"What if you sound like you're drowning?" The concern in your voice was so obviously put on.

I openly laughed; it felt good, like I hadn't done it in a long time. "If it sounds like I'm drowning while I shower, you can barge in."

There was something about your tone that told me you were smiling, "I will save you, don't worry."

"I'm not worried."

"You're always worried, Kate."

I shifted my weight and furrowed my brow. You weren't wrong. "I'm not worried about drowning while showering. Nor am I worried about you being in the room while I shower." I paused a long while, and you said nothing. I drew a deep breath and continued, letting my tone go playful, "If you want to barge in, the door will be unlocked."

You quieted down and cleared your throat, "Oh. Umm, okay."

"I'm gonna go shower now, bye." My words were a little rushed as my cheeks warmed beneath a sudden flush. Boldness was not comfortable for me.

"Yeah. Yeah, bye."

Then my thoughts got pulled back to us on the couch. My hair was wet. I hadn't noticed that before. Actually, yours was, too. Interesting. I tilted my head and looked you over. Regret? Is that what your body language is trying to convey? No. It's not quite right for regret. Irritation… maybe. Possibly even anger, yes, but not regret.

I pulled my feet up onto the couch, and you half glanced toward me, not turning your head, but I saw your gaze shift before your eyes focused on the movie again. Or, at least, you looked toward the TV. You seemed to be staring right through it.

Are you okay?

The urge to ask bubbles up, but I push it back down. If you were okay, you wouldn't be sitting like that. Did I do something wrong? Hurt you? Upset you?

I slipped my toes beneath your thigh. You stiffened at first but relaxed after you looked down and saw my feet so close to you. A lot of your tension eased. Maybe I was the one who was upset, and you were afraid to upset me further so kept your distance. That made some sense. 

Chewing my lip didn't help me fill in the gap in my… was it even a memory? I mean, it easily could've just been my own fantasy. If it was a fantasy, I could put whatever I wanted into the gap, but that didn't feel right.

I sighed.

You turned to me and placed your hand on my ankle."You okay?" you asked, your fingertips splayed along my skin.

I nodded. Everything felt okay, even if tense.

It wasn't really a smile you offered me. More like a half-smirk laced in relief. Your hand closed over my ankle, and you lifted my foot onto your lap. Your body language softened, and my hands fell to my sides. Was it really me who was upset? You certainly seemed to relax with that move by me, and my admission of being okay seemed to encourage you.

You rubbed my foot and we settled back into the couch. You shifted focus to watching the movie. A contented smile played about your lips while I tried very hard not to laugh. My feet were incredibly ticklish and you were absolutely tormenting me without even realizing it. 

I still wasn't watching the movie we had playing. Your fingers pressing into the bottom of my foot was distracting, though it was more difficult on me when you lightly brushed over my toes. Did you know I'm ticklish? I was trying so hard to hold back the laughter that my side began to ache. Some part of me was afraid that if you knew you'd hold me down and make me laugh until I begged you to stop. And that wouldn't be fair at all. I really needed you to stop caressing my foot. Like, right away. This was my dream, goddammit. 

Your hand moved back up to my ankle. Thank fuck, it was taking all I had to not burst into a fit of giggles while kicking wildly. No, you moved away from the ticklish spot and your fingers lightly traced my ankle and up my lower leg. That I liked. It felt nice to have you touching me so lightly. And you weren't in danger of being kicked that way. 

Your fingertips trailed up my shin and you pulled me a little closer to you by my leg. Rude, but I liked that, so, whatever. My lip caught between my teeth, and I stifled a moan, hiding it within a stretch that pulled my foot from your grip but curved my sole over your thigh. My toes rested perilously close to being inappropriate.

Your hand gripped my foot, preventing me from teasing, not that I was aiming to tease or anything. I just liked having a physical connection to you. It comforted me. Skin to skin was better, but I didn't mind this, either.

Part of me expected you to get up and go do something else, but you scooted closer to me. "We should talk about what happened," you said, your voice a little raspier and deeper than it normally was.

"Earlier?" I tipped my head as you took my foot back into your grip, pulling me closer with it.

"We can't pretend that didn't happen."

Shit. I didn't remember what happened. "Tell me what you want to discuss, specifically?"

You were focused on me and you moved closer again. The way your hand slid from my foot to my ankle, then ankle to calf, and calf to thigh, was smooth. "What you asked, Kate. Do you really question that?"

I searched my mind for an answer. What had I asked? "Remind me of what I said, so we aren't…"

You grabbed my jaw and turned me toward you, not nice, but damn if it didn't excite me. "Cut the shit. You know what you said."

I really didn't. "Humor me?"

Your hand was delicate with my face, a firm grip but not a rough one, I wouldn't have minded rough. "You wanna play, fine. My answer's yes. It's been yes for a while now and if you didn't already know that then you're a fucking idiot."

The fuck did I ask?!

My breathing quickened as you climbed over me. You leaned down close, evoking a whimper from me as your lips brushed along my neck. This wasn't what I was here for. We weren't supposed to cross lines, that had been the deal. I came to visit you and you show me around, only as friends.

How did I know that?

But seeing you leaning over me, the intensity in your eyes and power behind your grip… I went from excited to turned on real quick. It was enough to make me close my eyes and release the breath I'd held.

Had I asked you to fuck me? Was that what you were saying,’Yes,’ to?

Your lips were soft on my skin and my arousal only increased. 

I trembled beneath your touch, a shuddering gasp left me vulnerable and your hands pinned mine above my head easily. I pouted slightly and you gave me the faintest smile. There was an intense sadness in your eyes and the smile did nothing to convince me you weren't upset about something. Your thumbs stroked down my forearm from my wrist. Maybe I should've struggled or asked you to stop, but there was this look in your eye that suggested you were merely doing what I wanted you to and maybe not what you wanted to do. Or maybe you wanted to do what you were doing and thought I would stop you… it was hard to tell. 

You kept looking at me; your eyes searched mine as your grip tightened. I didn't know what you were looking for, but you didn't seem to find it. At least, your expression and demeanor didn't change if you did. 

The tight grip of your hand on my wrist contrasted with the light kiss you placed beside my lips. 

Then, I was back inside my mind, back in the dream within a dream. I stood in the shower, lazily scrubbing the scent of strangers and travel from my skin. I sighed, it felt good to be beneath the hot water. My hair was pinned up; I hadn't planned on washing it.

My hands stroked the soapy lather over my breasts and down my sides, and I stopped at my hip when I heard the hotel room door open. My brow quirked, and I waited, listening. Were you going to test my invitation or go wait on the couch? The pause between the door closing and you moving again seemed to take forever, but the bathroom door handle twisted oh so slowly. Were you trying to hide that you tested me? Scared I'd freak out?

The door opened, and a rush of cool air cleared some of the steam. "You can come in, if you want," I suggested, my attempt to sound nonchalant was questionable at best, but you didn't say anything.

Your silhouette darkened part of the opaque shower door, but you still said nothing. Just leaned back against the sink and crossed your arms over your chest. I rolled my eyes and pushed the shower door open a little. The transparency returned to the glass, and you immediately lifted your gaze, your cheeks bright red. 

“Jesus, Kate what if it hadn't been me?”

“Would depend on how attractive I found the intruder, I suppose.” I smirked and you frowned a moment before a smile lifted your gloomy expression. 

“You are so…”

I interrupted you, didn't really want to hear the rest of that comment, regardless of what it was. "You can join me if you'd like?" It felt like I'd just said that, like I was repeating myself because you didn't pick up on my more subtle invitation. But it was mostly a way to ensure the subject changed and whatever you’d been thinking faded from your mind. 

It took a moment for you to gauge the seriousness of my offer, but you did, and your eyes lowered to me. Were you challenging me? Seeing if I would tell you it was a joke and I didn't actually want you in the shower with me? I smiled and lowered my gaze, then left the door open as I stepped back beneath the water. The glass had lost its opaque shield and whether you joined me or not, you could see me and I could see you. One of us was much more vulnerable than the other.

Was I intimidating you by being so blunt and bold? Maybe. But I kept my gaze slightly averted, a soft smile on my lips. How else could I convince you I meant what I said? How could I coax you to join me? I considered my options, but while I did, you began unbuttoning your shirt. 

Where was this going to go? I wasn't here to… do anything, so why was I pushing it so hard? Seeing what you would do? Would you stop it before we crossed lines? Would I? Didn't have a clue, but wanted to find out.

I avoided looking directly at you. Didn't want to scare you. Your cuffs were undone, then you slid the fabric from your frame. I tried to pretend I wasn't smiling, or watching. Keeping that one brow from quirking in curious enjoyment was difficult.

The T-shirt you wore beneath the button-up came off, then you untied your shoes and pulled them off. Your socks were discarded next, then your belt. It felt like it was taking forever and I almost offered to help, but I didn't want to push you too far. Your pants ended up on the sink beside your shirt and your underwear pooled on the floor at your feet.

That you covered yourself with your hands as you stepped into the shower with me was kind of adorable. I reached past you and closed the shower door again. My hand pressed to your stomach for stability, and you shuddered; a soft moan seemed to get repressed as your hand moved to my wrist, seemingly to pull me away. At least, it seemed like you were going to pull my hand away until I brought my gaze back to yours.

You weren't even half-a-foot taller than me, but the difference felt significant as I looked up at you. I tipped my head to the side, and your thumb rubbed across my wrist. I shivered; a dreadful thought slipped across my mind and I pulled away from your grip.

"Is this too much, too fast?" I asked, shaking off the discomfort. Maybe avoiding you asking questions first.

The weight of your lips on mine pulled me from my dream memories and back to the couch with you, back to the main dream.. 'Yes,' you'd said. Too much, too fast... Was that what you were saying 'Yes,' to?

The pressure of your mouth against mine made it impossible to slip back into my memories just then. Your tongue slipped between my lips and I was not prepared for the way you entangled yourself with me. We were clothed. Each of us wore jeans and a T-shirt, but that was all I wore. I couldn't tell if you'd skipped your underwear as well or not.

Your body lay over mine, and your hand slid down until your fingers slipped under my shirt. My stomach tensed, and you moaned against my lips as your fingertips brushed the lower swell of my breast. So many butterflies fluttered at once just then, setting my desire aflame.

Kissing you back seemed necessary at that point. My hands moved to the back of your neck, and I held you to me. You were so warm, and it felt so very nice as your hand slid up and your palm easily covered my breast, giving me a gentle squeeze. Why'd we have to go and get dressed after the shower? I desperately wanted to be naked beneath you. That's not why I was there, but it's what I wanted. 

When you broke our kiss, I whined. 

You smiled before saying, "What are we doing, Kate?" Your hand slid from beneath my shirt and caressed my cheek instead.

"Whatever we want," I whispered.

"And if I want anything but to hurt you?"

I smiled, and your lips pressed against mine again. I broke free of the kiss, barely. "Whatever you want, then," I said, bringing my hand to your cheek.

"This would be easier if I didn't like you." You laughed and shook your head as though frustrated with yourself.

"So don't like me for a little while."

Your hand cupped my cheek, and your lips came down hard on mine. Then we were back in the shower. The beginning of whatever was developing between us was becoming clearer. The ‘before’ slowly emerged as I continued to dream.

"No," you said. “It's not too fast.” Your gaze held mine for a moment before we both had to avert our eyes. "But it's faster than I expected it to be."

"I'm not fond of slow."

"Or gentle," you added.

I leaned into your palm, and your thumb slipped along my lower lip. "Gentle can be okay," I whispered. It was a weakness of mine, and you knew that. My lips parted instinctively, and your thumb teased them a moment before you leaned down to me.

I thought you were moving in to kiss me, but your cheek brushed mine and your lips forced the warmth of your breath against my ear. "I want to take my time with you. Make it last."

Your thumb slipped along my lip again, then pushed into my mouth, causing me to moan around you. Make it last… Yeah, I wanted that, too.

It was uncanny how you knew my desires. I guess it should've been obvious you would. It was my dream, after all. But, besides that, we'd talked about the things we enjoyed extensively over the years. Maybe I thought you hadn't paid attention. Most don't. But you seemed to.

I squirmed and moaned as your lips connected with my jaw. Then your teeth dragged over my neck as your thumb caressed my tongue. My lips closed around it, sucking and licking your invasive digit, and I began a bit of a battle with you. Having control over my lips and tongue meant I could show you what else I could do with my mouth. Your control over me kinda melted my resolve to win, though. I liked you leading. My trust in you made it easy for me to follow your directions. We would've killed it at one of those stupid corporate trust building retreats. I would’ve followed you in any direction without question.

You withdrew your thumb… and I was back on the couch with you as you grabbed my jaw, holding me still with an almost bruising grip as your lips moved back to mine. We entangled each other for a moment before you bit my lip, got your hand beneath my shirt, and lifted it over my breasts. Not off, mind you. Only pulled up, out of the way. My breasts weren't large mounds meant to make guys drool over them; they were little more than a handful, really, but that didn't seem to deter you.

“Not liking you isn't really an option anymore,” you said. 

The way your hand lazily cupped my breast as your mouth closed over the other one refreshed my memory of the shower. And then I was right back there, beneath the hot water. In the dream before the dream again.

Your hands slid behind my back and down over my ass, which you groped and used to pull me closer to you. My fingertips trailed over your cheek and beneath your chin, urging you to lean in and kiss me again, but you didn't. Instead, your hands slid to my hips, and you turned me away from you before stepping closer.

My heart raced as your hands slid up my back and over my shoulders. Your fingers moved into my hair, removing the delicate pins holding my hair up in its messy style. My hair fell loose, the long dark curls cascaded over my pale skin as you opened the shower door and tossed the hair pins out onto the floor.

While the shower wall and door were clear, I could see us reflected in the mirror. You had one hand holding your cock upright, pressing it to your stomach. If you'd let go, it would've pressed between my thighs easily. Part of me wanted to step back against you, the other part wanted you in control. I let that part win and relished it when the door closed again. Your other hand brushed my hair from my shoulder, sweeping it off my left and over my right.

I'd told you about my weak points before. Unfair of you to remember and use them. It's a cheat, even if it was my dream. Your hand caressed the right side of my head as you bit my left shoulder. My arm bent so that my hand could grab the back of your neck while the other moved to the shower wall to find some support for my suddenly weakened knees.

"Ohh," words wouldn't form for me. Then you let go of your cock and stepped closer as you slid your other hand up my stomach and to my breast. That did not help, but a word finally passed my lips. "Fuck," even if it didn't convey my full pleasure, at least it was a word.

"Mm hmm," you moaned against my neck. Your hand tangled in my hair and pulled my head, allowing you to bite and suck on the left side of my neck much more freely. My thighs clenched together as your cock slipped between them. Your groan was lost in mumbled vibrations against my skin. The hand you held on my breast moved gently, cupping and squeezing as your hips pushed your cock further between my thighs.

That you weren't inside of me made me ache. I needed to be fucked, by you specifically. Absolutely needed it.

Your breath shuddered as your lips pulled away from my neck, "Rough or gentle?" you asked, even though you already knew my answer.

I looked over my shoulder at you and raised up onto the balls of my feet, arching my back and lifting my ass and hips toward you. "Yes," I moaned.

My non-answer evoked a throaty chuckle from you.

I wanted your gentle hand on my skin and your lips brushing tenderly along my shoulder. I needed your other hand holding a rough grip in my hair, and your cock thoroughly  enjoying the deep and selfish use of my pussy... Yeah, that's what I wanted. Both. From you. And you obliged without making me beg for it. 

Your hand twisted in my hair and pulled as your other slid down my side and gripped my hip. "Guide me, Kate," you moaned against my ear.

I licked my lips and obeyed. My hand slipped between my thighs and wrapped around your cock before guiding you to my entrance, which was achingly wet with a fluid much more slippery than water. Your cock pushed into me, and I whimpered, pushing my hips back toward you. It was excruciating how slow and gentle you started. It wouldn't have taken more than a couple of thrusts to lubricate yourself with my arousal; the slow movement was unnecessary and unwanted, and you knew that. Still, you pushed gently, clearly savoring the way my body accepted you.

My excitement rose as your lips pressed to the back of my jaw, and your hand slid up from my hip again. You reached across and cupped your hand over my other breast, lifting and squeezing it as your hips pulled back before gingerly pushing forward, forcing my body open to you once again. I ached for more, and you knew it. Your fingertips grazed over my breast, flicking across my firm nipples, and your hips bucked against me a little harder, making me lose my footing slightly before I recovered. I moaned at the force behind that thrust, and your hand tightened in my hair.

So fucking good.

I wanted it harder, and you began to deliver. Your hips pulled back and slammed into me again. My hands moved in front of me, bracing on the wall. It hurt when you thrust forward, but I welcomed it. The depth you reached was something I hadn't experienced in some time, and it made my legs quiver.

You pulled my hair and practically growled in my ear, "More?" you asked.

I nodded.

You pulled harder as you slammed into me.

I cried out, "Yes, more, please, harder…"

Your body clapped against mine, and tears ran down my cheeks. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I hadn't come here for this, had I? But this was what I needed. What I desired.

When your hand slid from my breast and stroked down my body, I expected you to settle on my hip for better control over your penetration, but you didn't. Instead, your index and ring fingers slipped between my thighs and spread my labia so your middle finger could rub so lightly over my clit, unobstructed and able to fully control how light and teasing your caress was. 

It was all I could do to hold myself up as my legs trembled. My heels lowered to the shower floor again, forcing you to hit a little deeper inside of me. Oh, how good that hurt felt. My fingertips moved down to your hand, and I stroked the back of it. It was so nice, the way you barely touched. Teasing, frustrating, but it felt so fucking good. Your hand let go of my hair and moved down to my waist, wrapping in front of me and holding me up. You were all that kept me upright as my legs positively quaked with my crest.

Your thrusts slowed, and I cried out, "No, no, don't stop, please? Don't stop..."

"You sure?"

"Mm hmm, please, please."

You resumed the forceful, and borderline painful, thrusts as my pussy rhythmically tightened on you. I was almost immediately on the verge of a second orgasm, and, like a fucking pro, you coaxed it from me with a mix of your gentle touch and forceful thrusts. That climax buckled my knees, and I nearly pulled you down with me.

You slid out of me and guided me to the floor of the shower. My legs still quivered as I knelt there for a moment. As soon as the trembling eased, I turned around to see you stroking your cock. My lips were on you without hesitation, and your hands slipped into my hair. You were slowing me down, forcing me to restrain my movements. It was almost like you were on the verge but wanted to hold out, so you needed me to temper myself.

I wasn't happy about that. My eyes lifted to yours as you moved your hips gently toward my mouth. Gently again. Gently. I didn't want that. Hands, yes; kiss, yes, gentle. Your cock? No. I wanted that rough and hard.

You weren't allowing me your full length, but I wanted it. Craved it. I needed you to want it, too. My movement slowed to a gentle motion, my tongue lifting and cradling the underside of your cock, caving to your desire to rein me in. You stopped holding me back. I kept moving gently, moaning on your cock as I carefully took a little more of you into my mouth. Your hands rubbed the back of my head, lifting and tugging at my hair.

It was easy enough to slip from gentle to not. With a calculated move, I'd gotten your cock down my throat, the tightness contracting on you as I fought against my need to breathe. You groaned, and my gaze connected with yours again. The way you closed your eyes and licked your lips made me smile as much as I could in that moment. I pulled back enough to take a deep breath, and your brow furrowed at the loss. Even your hands tightened in my hair and tried to pull me back down onto your cock.

My hand cradled your balls and I pulled you from my mouth. My fingers wrapped around your shaft and slid easily over your slicked cock. "You can cum anywhere you like," I offered, my voice soft and full of desire for you.

"Pussy?" you asked.

I nodded and started to turn around, but you stopped me. You knelt in the shower stall with me and pulled me onto your lap before pushing back into me. I whimpered at the way your cock forced my body to stretch and accommodate you. You smiled as you looked at me. "Didn't expect you to feel this good," you admitted.

My body moved of its own accord, lifting and rocking down over you. You leaned forward, taking my breast in your mouth as you tangled one hand in my hair, just at the base of my head, and pulled hard, forcing my neck and back to arch, lifting my breasts to you. Your other hand lay on my hip, guiding my rhythm.

You released my breast and took the other into your mouth, repeating the lift of your tongue against my firm nipple, sucking on me until my already tender breast ached, then releasing. Your guidance kept me moving slowly, rhythmically, over your cock. "Kate," you said with a breathless tone, "touch yourself for me."

I nodded, and my hands moved to my breasts, groping and lifting them in my palms. You kissed my hands and along my clavicle, as you began to thrust up to meet my downward rocking. Again, you hit deep and it ached, but I welcomed it.

My hands slid down my body until they rested on my mons; your eyes followed their every move. When I parted my labia, you watched with intense fascination. My rhythm changed, and my downward rocking became more insistent. You groaned, and I whimpered. My body connected with yours again and again, and I felt your cock become just a bit more rigid. I brought one hand away from my pussy and placed my fingers beneath your chin, lifting your gaze to my face, "Cum for me, please, Sir."

Your hands moved to my hips, and you pulled me down on you hard. It brought tears to my eyes and caused me to whine. "You first," you said, a mischievous smile on your lips.

I wrapped my arm behind your neck and pulled you to me. My lips connected firmly with yours, and my tongue refused to be denied access to you. You moaned, and I lifted and moved my tight, slick pussy over your cock repeatedly. Our kisses deepened, and our breathing quickened. My fingers got rougher with my clit, and yours tightened painfully on my hips. I moaned into your mouth, and you pulled me down hard as my orgasm hit, squeezing and pulling at you as I rocked my hips and whimpered against your ear.

Your release came right after mine, rhythmic grunts timed with each rope of cum you pumped deep inside of me. Our lips parted, and our breathing was labored, but neither of us pulled away. I lay my head on your shoulder, and you stroked my hair. The warmth of the water flowing over us was most welcome. 

I'm the one who ruined the moment. "You don't love me, right?" I asked, sadness emanating from my words.

You didn't answer, but your shoulders slumped as you sighed.

'Yes,' you'd said as you lay over me on the couch.

My eyes focused on yours, and tears began to cloud my gaze. The body language on the couch had been fear and disappointment. That was why you sat so far away from me. This dream had so many layers and was so complicated that it was difficult for me to track the 'dream memories' from the dream that began when I stepped into it. Everything was fuzzy, but my focus cleared a little and we were back on the couch with you above me.

You looked angry, and I didn't even realize you'd gotten my jeans off of one leg while I was ruminating and trying to recall what I'd asked you. You continued your rough thrusts into me, and my back arched. Your hand was on my neck, squeezing so gently, just enough to let me feel, not enough to hurt.

You'd said yes, so were you punishing me at this point in the dream? For making you admit it? For thinking you didn't? For wanting you not to? I wasn't entirely certain why, but it was clear to me you were angry, and you were taking that anger out on my body in such enjoyable ways.

I wrapped my leg behind your back and pulled you to me. "I'm sorry," I offered.

Your thrusts picked up speed, and your hand loosened on my neck as you lowered yourself down to me. You struggled to speak but managed a simple word. "Why?"

My hands moved behind your back and I pulled you down to me, my lips nestled near your ear, "Because I feel the same and I know I'm not supposed to."

You groaned and kissed me violently, your hips pushed harder, driving your cock even deeper within me. I whimpered, and you grabbed my ass, lifting me as you sat up. You seemed to take great enjoyment in watching your cock spread me open to you. You filled me completely. I stretched so tightly around you. Your hand moved to my hip and your thumb flicked across my clit, making me arch my back and bite my lip.

You came inside of me again, first this time, but you ensured I was just behind you with a deep kiss and deft fingers. Then we collapsed onto the couch together, the movie forgotten as our hands explored one another in gentle caresses.

Your lips were soft against my ear, and you whispered something to me, but I don't remember what. I wish I knew because it made me smile." I stop talking and tilt my head, listening. "Did you fall asleep on me?"

"Hmm?" You respond, absentmindedly. "Oh, no. Was just looking something up."

I laugh. Go figure. I divulge an incredibly detailed sex dream to you, and you get distracted looking things up. "Something more interesting?"

"Uh, Yeah."

"Gonna tell me?" My tone did little to hide my annoyance at your admission.

"Mmm… Not yet, just need a minute, hang on, okay?"

I sigh and nod, even though you can't see me. "Yeah, sure." I lay back on the couch and twirl my hair around my finger while I wait. You type something and then you sigh with what sounds like relief.

A moment later my phone pings and I look at it. An image comes through. Your computer screen. Two windows are open, each about half the size of your screen. In one window is a flight reservation, in the other a local hotel. The dates are barely a week out.

I bolt upright. "It was just a dream…"

"A good dream, though."

"Yes, but…"

"And we have no other obligations. No attachments to anyone right now, right?"

"No, but…"

"And I do love you."

I quiet at that. We're friends. We work great as friends. "This is a bad idea…"

"Yeah, well, right now my dick says it's a great idea. A fan-fucking-tastic idea."

I laugh. You sigh.

"It's not really something we can undo, you know? It could ruin our friendship," I say.

"It won't."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I won't let it."

I sigh. You laugh.

Fuck, I love the way you laugh. "Yes, sir."

I can hear you shift in your seat before you clear your throat. "Yeah. I like that."

I smile. Good, 'cause it feels natural and I'm not gonna want to stop once we start. Are you prepared for that? Please make sure you are… "Me, too." My voice is soft and you make a noise that I can't quite explain, a pleased grunt, maybe?

Yeah. I'll see you soon.