Lost Love

I’m in my room, on my bed, lying on my back, when I wake up perspiring from a dream. With my eyes halfway closed with a misty glazed look of unbridled hunger to them, I can still see you standing there at the foot of the bed with an unreadable look on your face, indecisive as to what your next move was going to be. I was trying to fight  how  uncomfortable you made me feel, my loins aching for your touch, my nipples standing erect with anticipation; I can still taste the blood from the crushing  pressure of your mouth on mine and the caresses of your tongue and hands on other parts of my body. With my mouth slightly open, panting, my slightly swollen lips tremble with just a whisper of your name and the want I have for you on them. I can feel the moist heat forming in between my thighs with the tingling still there of where you left teeth marks, the flaring of my nostrils breathing in the raw musky smell of your body that covered mine a few minutes before made my crotch involuntary thrust upward pleading, reaching out with my hands grasping at the air begging for release, for your help, for your love that did not come. Tears ran down my face, and I blushed at the need I showed, struggling with the shock of betrayal from my own body, as you faded slowly away in the dark shadows the corners of my room, rolling over with tears in my eyes upset and ashamed forcing myself to try and go back to sleep saying it was only a dream.