Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Sex, Sleep, and Sadness

Sleeping with RS is one of the simple joys in my life - and I mean physically sleeping, not the good stuff that usually preceeds it.

Last night was the last night of drifting off into subconscious space fully aware that I was not, and wouldn't be, alone. It's comfortable to be able to reach out and touch someone in the middle of the night; it's reassuring to know that your pillar of strength is perched resolutely beside you in the darkness; and it's incredibly sexy to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of a great phallus during sleep and using every ounce of restraint against the desire to reach out and embrace it.

When I finally crawled into bed last night beside RS he was already fast asleep and my mind began to race; How could I leave in the morning without one last sexual encounter, without one last orgasm, without one last naked embrace?

But once my naked body curled in beside him, instict took over and his dick settled into the contours of my ass and legs while his hands found their way to my nipples, and in the darkness and silence he began rubbing, turning, twisting and pinching. Orgasm and sex followed, and at the end of it all, we fell back into bed happy and satisfied.

And though I will undoubtedly and without question miss our sexcapades, that space between spent silence and welcome sleep is what I'll miss most while we're apart.

In a few short hours I'll surely be cocooned in the bed couch listening to sad sappy music and weeping uncontrollably while I fall asleep alone.

The only thing that could potentially make up for sleeping alone might be sex dreams - good ones, and lots of them.

Bring it on.

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