The dream that wasn't

I was sitting in an open space in the middle of a forest. The sound of singing birds in the lush green. The trees making tall shadows. Little bluebells and bumblebees. Spider webs with little sparkling dewdrops. The sun was warm. There were no clouds. A lovely day.

A barn.

I saw a barn. A barn in this distant place. In this abandoned place. An abandoned barn.

A voice said. "He is in the barn."

I walked around the barn. A wooden barn.  Painted red. Once. Once, it was red.

A small window. I tried to peek. Impossible. The glass was grey with old webs and dust and dirt. Inside only darkness. I walked. Around. Empty paint cans, rusted. Lumber. A fork. A fork? An old cart, rotten, overgrown with weed. The barn doors. Ajar.

Carefully I pried the doors further. Stepped in side.

A beam of sunlight made a path. For me, to walk on. Dust was dancing in the ray. Next to it, only darkness. Abandoned.

Another step. More stripes with dancing dust. The barn was empty. Almost empty.

In the middle of the barn stood a man. No, he did not stand. He sat. He sat on a bale of hay. In the middle of the barn a man was sitting on a bale of hay. No, he stood. Why would I think he was standing? He was sitting. Sitting on a bale of hay. Lotus posture.

In the middle of the barn a man was sitting on a bale of hay in lotus posture, with his back turned away from the doors. A ray of sunshine gave his hair a reddish gloss. The man had long wavy hair. A broad shouldered man.

In the middle of the barn...

Cut the crap.

I wanted to leave. Felt I was interrupting something. I did not want to disturb him. Quietly I stepped back.

"Stay."

I took another step back.

"Please stay." The man said.

He stood up. Turned around.

"Please stay." He said again.

I stood still. Frozen.

The man was not very tall, but he was beautiful. He was tall. No. He was small.

On his face was a smile.

A ray of sunlight touched his face. Caressed it, like a lover would.

It was an ordinary man. No, he was a god. No, just a man.

He had a beard. A short beard. Groomed. A handsome man with long wavy hair and a short beard.

He smiled.

At me.

I smiled back.

I stood still. Frozen. Like a rabbit caught in the lights of a car.

He reached out his hand. Smiling at me.

I walked towards him.

Slow steps.

I walked towards him as if I was pulled by an invisible cord.

My arms relaxed on my sides. My feet, rolling, balanced, one step after the other.

He reached his hand towards me. Smiled. His eyes. I saw his eyes.

The bluest blue. No. They were amber. No blue. Blue eyes.

He really looked at me. He saw me.

I was drawn to him.

Those eyes.

An invisible cord.

I stood in front of him.

He was not big. Bigger than me.

I looked up at him. He looked down at me. He smiled.

"I know you." I said.

He took my hand. Placed my hand against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat.

"I know you." He said.

He bend his head. I could feel his breath. His lips almost touched mine. Almost.

He laughed, softly. I could see his teeth. His lashes.

"I'm sorry." I said.

"What for?"

"For disturbing you."

"I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

He took my other hand. Kissed the palm. I could feel the warmth of his lips, his cheek with the soft beard. I stroked his jaw. His ear. Tangled my fingers in the silken curls hanging in his neck.

"Eddie." I whispered.

He breathed out. Did he hold his breath?

He took me in a warm embrace. His cotton shirt was fresh and clean. My cheek against the fabric. The smell. The smell of his clean shirt and his body. I inhaled. Deep. So familiar. He smelled like the forest. He smelled like the sea. He smelled like a lush lawn. The sun on the sand. He smelled like the salty sea breeze. Sweat. He smelled. I could smell him. His sweat.

I could hear his heartbeat.

I felt his warmth.

I could smell his sweat.

"Eddie." I said.

"Yes." He said

"I found you."

"I called you."

"Why?"

"To be whole." He answered.

I put my hands under his shirt. Glided the palms of my hands over his smooth skin. Over his back, his sides, his belly. Higher up, over his ribs, his chest. His armpits. His inside arms. I was in his shirt. He laughed. The shirt was big enough for both of us. Well. Not really. It tore. My mouth opened and I tasted him. Salt. Of course. Sweet. I chuckled. Spicy.

I tasted him with my tongue. Like a melting ice cream. His collarbones, his neck.

My hands lowered, caressed his belly. I hooked my fingers under his waistband.

He helped me by unbuttoning his pants.

I went on my knees.

On my knees. In front of him.

His hands in my hair.

His hands on my face.

His fingers touching my mouth.

I licked his fingers. Sucked on his fingers.

He gasped. Whispered my name.

I looked up.

He looked down.

His eyes. Dark now.

He whispered my name. I sucked his fingers. Moved my tongue from the palm of his hand to the top of his index finger. Looked up at him.

Pulled down his pants a bit. Lowered his pants. On his tights.

I stroked the bulge in his boxer briefs. Hard. He was hard. So hard.

I peeled away the textile. Freed him. Touched him. The skin. Like silk. So hard, yet soft like velvet.

Lust. I felt lust.

I was amazed.
I knew him. I knew who he was.

Such a beautiful man. So complete.

I pressed my cheek against his penis. The warmth, the intimacy. I stroked along the shaft.

My lips touched him. Licked a little bit of the moist on the top. Tasted him. And then I took him in my mouth. Enjoyed him. Pleasured him.

His hands in my hair. His breathing; fast. Heavy.

His head was arched backwards. He was moaning.

I could feel his legs trembling.

My blood pumping through my body. Despite my ringing ears, I heard him groaning. 

He called my name. His juice flowed. He shuddered. He fell on his knees. Clasped his arms around me. Kissing my face, tasting his own juice on my mouth. Whispering. Holding me. Holding me tight.

His warmth, his strength, his taste, his smell.

The ray of sunlight on his face. His beautiful face.