Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

[WARNING: Adult content below. Read at your own discretion.]

How could Jeanne know my heart with just a sentence, something I hadn’t even spoken to myself? It was the trochaic triameter with alliteration all over again… Jeanne knew. She actually knew I was in a crossroads. All the boys and I were in a crossroads even if we hadn’t talked about the matter yet, and it was the underlying motive of our latest issues. And Jeanne knew because she listened carefully, because she was able to do just that, connect the dots, read between the lines, see beyond the surfaces, remember and relate everything as with synaesthesia. Louis was so right about her. I was screwed.

I was screwed because on the other hand what I knew about her wasn’t even the slightest part of what she knew about me. But the main reason I was so screwed was that she grew even more on me because––beyond of the fact of being capable of reading things than no one else could––when she laid those eyes on me she was searching deeper than anyone had ever searched before. Jeanne was well aware of my persona but she wasn’t settling for any less than my most inner being, and I found it absolutely irresistible.

When I woke up in confusion in the small hours of the night I sensed Jeanne wasn’t in bed with me anymore. I glanced to the garden and the lights were off. As I touched her side of the mattress I realised it was cold, so I understood I had been sleeping by myself for quite a while. Where was Jeanne?

The air was a bit chilly. I grabbed a blanket and threw it over my shoulders. Trying not to knock anything over I walked towards the hall and then climbed the stairs. I stood at the beginning of the corridor. All the bedrooms’ doors were closed. I passed Jeanne’s room and went on by until I faced her parent’s door. I reached for the doorknob and opened it. The window was half shut as I could feel the breeze and in the dim light of the night I perceived the lace curtains softly moving to the wind. I glanced towards the bed. There was Jeanne sleeping on one side beneath the duvet, her hair sprawled on the pillows, breathing smoothly. I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces.

I walked towards her and climbed into bed. I just wanted to… I don’t know, comfort her. I lay beside her propped on my elbow, and grazed my fingertips on her naked arm. Jeanne shivered lightly and mumbled some words. I kissed her elbow and kept caressing her as I watched her sleep. She was so different while sleeping and I didn’t know why. I loved to be able to watch her without her awareness; her eyelashes flickering, her barely parted lips. I leant in and brushed my lips on hers. Jeanne twitched and I thought she was about to turn around, but she stayed still. I brushed my lips again. She twisted her nose but didn’t wake up. She surely was a heavy sleeper. I brushed my lips for the third time.

“Mouth…” Jeanne whispered, although I realised she wasn’t fully awake. For some reason I beamed. Was ‘mouth’ the nickname she had for me? It made all the sense. What other reason could she have to speak English if she weren’t referring to me? She dreamt in French…

Joyful I slid my hand to her head and caressed her hair, staring at her intently. If she had woken up then I would have probably scared her. I placed a light kiss on her forehead but when I was turning to nestle in bed I noticed a redness coming through the window. Dawn. I straightened up a bit and with my back on the pillows I watched the sunrise over the top of the trees and the town. With the light expanding across the space the room changed colours to a purplish and the stars twinkled. It was a dream. It had to be a dream… Feeling overwhelmed I cuddled up to Jeanne’s warm body and not much more was needed for me to return to rest.

The next morning I woke up to Jeanne’s kiss. But it wasn’t just any kiss but a yearning kiss, a hot, full of desire kiss. I sensed her body grinding on mine. I grabbed her by her buttocks and brought her even closer so she could feel the hard-on she was giving me. The brightness coming by the window was pale, so I imagined it should be around ten. We had some time left before heading to the market. I slipped on top of her but suddenly remembered we were at her parents’ bedroom.

“Were you conceived on this bed?” I mumbled between kisses. The things she made me think of.

“Probably…” Jeanne murmured in my mouth. A chill ran down my spine and I opened my eyes.

“Do you want to go elsewhere?”

“No.” Her lips shuddered. God, she made me so weak… Jeanne pushed her body up to me, and I grazed her back with both hands, resting all my weight on her.

I came to feel the tip of her fingers playing with the rim of my boxers. She was being serious, and I felt absolutely thrilled. Plunging my face on her hair I moved a bit for Jeanne to ease them down, as she brushed every inch of her soft body on me. My tongue and lips glided up and down along her neck, her scent and tact overcoming my senses. I tugged at her light, short rompers. She was so naked in my arms again and I couldn’t keep my body from shaking.

Cupping her cheek around one hand I held her head against the pillow, and slowly lapped those delicious lips. Jeanne let out a mute gasp, allowing me to graze my tongue in hers, so fresh, irresistibly juicy. My other hand was roaming around her skin, across her back to her waist and bum, gripping, digging forcefully. I bent down to kiss her breasts. How could the feeling be that intoxicating? I caressed them, capturing her nipples between my fingers to rub on them, mesmerised by the vision of Jeanne’s round forms and her back rising and falling against the mattress, contorting in rapture under my touch.

I sat on my heels between her legs, my erection grazing my belly button. Jeanne passed her legs from above my thighs, keeping me close. I was desperate to be inside her, my heart pounding franticly against my ribcage, but I let my hands explore every one of her nooks and crannies. The pleasure I found on her contact forced me not to rush in. And to see her body moving beneath me in broad daylight… I just couldn’t give up on that, lost in the perfect arch she described from bum to neck. I insistently trailed that line all the way up with my palm feeling her quiver, holding her against me by the waist with my free hand, slipping my fingers on her mouth at the end, and it was almost just too much for me to take.

Jeanne propped herself on the elbows, languidly batting her lashes. It almost felt I hadn’t met her eyes in centuries. She lifted her chin to me fixed in my anxious gaze and she just melted me down. She was this force… I pulled her closer and she came to kiss my chest, beginning to make her way down to my cock, as she dug her fingertips on my abdomen. Her tongue swirled around the underside of my glans and she took me deep into her mouth. I groaned, placing my hands on the back of her head and pulling her even closer. Only her breathing on me was enough, but she continued kissing and lapping and stroking. I ached to surrender myself to her.

Jeanne started to push me back to come on top of me. In that moment I realised that, somehow, I was never on top. My lower belly burnt and I opposed some resistance to her movements. She frowned slightly but just gasped as I lay her down on her back again, folding her leg around my side.

“Let me do this–––I whispered. I promise I’ll make you come.” Her expression was as nothing I could read, but I leant in and kissed her.

And her body relaxed under mine and under my kiss. And we stayed kissing and brushing our bodies together until the urge was impossible to resist. I pushed myself inside her in one longing, potent thrust, my hand on her cheek again as I kept kissing her, Jeanne moaning in my mouth and squirming. My stomach lurched in emotion. I wanted to feel her completely and make it last; I wanted to take it slow to be able to absorb every drop of Jeanne’s pleasure.

I moved in a resolute pace, feeling the heat rising. She took up to my rhythm and the friction of our bare skin began to drive my senses mad. As I felt my orgasm building up I went faster, glancing at Jeanne. She was frowning, eyes wide shut, her head pushed back and her legs pressing on my sides. The buzz around my heart was beginning to distress me. I kissed her chin, knowing I couldn’t hold it much longer. I kept the same pace but thrusting harder, the tingly sensation quickly spreading out of control, my mind going wild. Jeanne pushed one leg upper. I panted. I knew she was as near as me, but I wanted more. I was desperate for more. Pleasure wasn’t enough anymore.

“Tell me you love me, Jeanne–––I thought, shaking my head. Please, tell me you love me…” I repeated in my mind. In that moment I opened my eyes and my own image caught me off guard. There was my reflection in an oval mirror I hadn’t noticed before. Unarmed, I broke down collapsing onto her chest but continued rocking, and holding her head against the pillow.

“I… I…” Jeanne muttered in confusion. I looked up at her instinctively. “I’m going to come,” she sighed. She had never told me that before.

“Jeanne, I…” I shook my head, but it just overtook me, my orgasm, and I crashed my body on hers, and it was so hard for a second I felt I wasn’t coming back from it. I fell blank over her breast, my senses caught in a storm and I was only able to hear her heart pounding beneath my ear. I knew she was mumbling something, but I was incapable of understanding her.

When I finally reacted I noticed Jeanne’s chest was soaked. My arms were tightly wrapped around her but I released one from my embrace to try to dry it with my palm. I glanced to the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy. I immediately glimpsed up at Jeanne. She was covering her face with the back of her hand, still panting heavily. I came closer to cup her cheek. She moved her hand away and looked at me with a timid smirk.

“I’m sorry I drooled over you,” I lied to her, my voice sounding a bit shaky.

“It’s OK, don’t worry,” she smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, but her eyes were glassy. I frowned.

“Are you fine, Jeanne?–––I mumbled, fearing the worst. Did I make you come?” In spite of my exhaustion my heart managed to race inside my chest.

“Yes–––she stated. Yes, I’m fine. It was beautiful.” Her gaze seemed to regain its usual sparkle. I huffed.

“Yes, it was,” I muttered, caressing her as I looked deep into her eyes. It had been more than just that… It was the most moving, heartbreaking sex of all my life.

“Let’s go to the market. Shall we?” Jeanne said blithely.

As she spoke she kissed my cheek and quickly got up from bed, exiting the room. I stayed there transfixed, but rolled to rest on my chest in the spot she had been sleeping. Her scent was still on the pillow. I breathed in and closed my eyes. I rolled to my back, arms open, and glanced to the ceiling, my gaze fixed on the stars painted up above me. I rubbed my itchy eyes, sighing. I was screwed.

–.–.–

Notes

This story surprises me because I keep falling in love with it. I've written many scenes I loved and I always think that I'll never be able to feel that again. But then the moment comes and I lie in bed and start to dream and it comes to me and next morning I start to write and everything fall into place, and I work, work, work, read, read, read, talk about it with my many lovely friends/readers, always giving strength to endure, and finally I shake my head and I have this. I'm so proud of this chapter I've read it 100 times, the final proof listening to 'Fireproof' and it was so freaking moving... I truly hope you feel the same about it. I know in my writing emotions are subtle. It's not the time to shock anybody but to feel this slowly burning...

Yesterday I talked to you about my new reading: I'm Still The Harry You Knew. Have you checked it yet? If you are reading my story you like strong feelings, so run to reach for more. She is such an amazing writer and a lovely, lovely person. Go and show her your love! I know you have plenty because you are the best and most caring readers in this site.

Thank you, dear friends, for showing me your love with your comments and feedback. It means the world that you choose to share your time with me. I love you all!

David Bowie, Slow Burn.

Any story deserves hate