Sleepwalking my way through life: The soft whispers of the night



The soft whispers of the night

There was the soft rustle of bed sheets and the mattress uttered a welcoming groan as I made myself comfortable. The room was dark with the scratching of strange creatures and reverberating thuds from downstairs, but the bed was reassuringly warm. She moved beside me, stretching her arm against my chest and lifting her head to welcome my arm under it. Her head rested in the crook of my shoulder, and I breathed in her bubblegum hair with deep risings of my chest. Socks had been kicked off, and pyjamas hung loosely from our bodies. I breathe in and out and feel her head rise and fall with my breath, and I crack a smile I can’t stop smiling. I slip round behind her, wrapping my arms round her shoulder and kissing the nape of her neck, hearing her let out quick gasps of excited breath as I work my way down to her bare shoulder and back up again. Her skin is velvet smooth and seems to shine despite the lack of light, and as I run a hand from her knee up to her flat stomach (over a pair of stylish girl-boxers) it seems to shine more intensely. She twists round and smiles at me – that smile – and I can see teeth nibbling at her lip as long black hair tumbles over her face. She leans over and kisses me lightly on the cheek, the skin on my chest tingling as it touches the skin of her arm, her hand softly caressing my other cheek with fingers dipping slightly into my hair. I can feel her heartbeat through my skin as our legs intertwine and my heart is soon audible, thumping with excitement and lust as she kisses my chest. Her beautifully shining eyes look up at me with a feline twinkle, and the shadow of a devious smile on her lips.


When I wake up I’m back in my own bed, a patch of sun streaming from the unclosed blinds and warming my face. I sit there, unmoving in the blindingly comfortable sun, and take stock of the previous night’s events. Did it happen? Did I imagine it? Was it all pretend? It doesn’t really matter, I thought languidly, not in the end.

I picked up my phone and dialled a long number, waiting patiently for it to be picked up, and when it was I laughed and I smiled.

‘You were right you bastard.’ I said, hanging up.

I put the phone back on my bedside table and let my head become engulfed by the pillow before falling back asleep.
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4 Comments:

At 2:58 pm, Blogger Jules said...

This, however, is not bummish.

 
At 6:08 pm, Anonymous Bekka said...

Goodness. :)

 
At 7:07 am, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You're goofy

 
At 5:00 pm, Blogger The Merry Traveller said...

wet dreams? :)

 

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