I Dreamed of You
	by Aimee

I dreamed of you last night; of being with you in a room, an apartment,
somewhere deep in the dark heart of a city. We have finished making
love, and you had just fallen asleep, the silk sheet the only ornament
of the bare, bare room. The humidity and the sweat making the thin veil
stick to your body, your flesh was both hidden and revealed in that
bed, the new blue skin open to the world, your nipples still taut with
the blood that arousal had forced to them.

I too am exhausted, but insomnia grips me. In the other room, the TV
plays, but in a language I do not understand. The humidity is stifling,
or is it just the aura of sex which clouds the room. I look at you; how
do you sleep? I am angry at you--you sleep while I must lie awake, this
hunger gnawing at me. A hunger for you.

My body aches. You have made a gift of youself to me. We have made love
in every position we could think of, and every joint of my body is
sore. Yet I watch your breast slowly rising under the blue silk sheets,
I watch your hips gather the curves of the blue, blue skin as you shift
slightly, that devine crevice the only part of your body I cannot see.
And now the part I want above all others.

I pull the sheet away, and you moan, a sound somewhere between
awakening and arousal. I push your shoulder down and you are flat on
your back. My shoulders enflame as I prop myself above you. My jaw
burns as I drag my tounge along the underside of your breast. Salt,
water, sweat, oil... they all mix together into a taste and smell I
will forever identify with you.

I shift my body again and your left leg is hooked over my right. Our
bodies touch, and I begin to grind against you.

There is pain. But somewhere in that pain there is a small place of
pleasure, and this journey through the dark vale of agony is better
than facing the gnawing and the exhaustion that I will find away from
you.

You are awake now. You say something, angered, I think, before your
nails are on my hips, riding against me. The orgasm, when it comes, is
a dark, dark thing, but looking into your eyes, I know that because we
have shared it, it is ours, and special. 

You pull yourself up to me by my shoulders, and we kiss. You bite my
bottom lip hard and say, "Let me sleep," before you collapse onto the
bed, eyes staring out the window where no breeze comes. I know you feel
the humidity now too, but also know that as always, you will find
comfort in sleep before I will.