The Dream that stayed
534 Words
The night was heavy with silence. The soft whirr of the ceiling fan mixed with the distant sound of crickets outside. Moonlight poured in through the sheer curtains, casting silver lines across Susan’s bed. She lay there—eyes shut, body still—but her mind was far from quiet.
She was dreaming.
It wasn’t just any dream—it was him. Kelvin.
They had been sitting on the edge of her bed that day, the window open, the curtains fluttering with the evening breeze. The air between them felt different, almost electric.
“Susan,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “can I kiss you?”
She had nodded, lips parting slightly, heart pounding so loud it echoed in her ears. His mouth met hers—soft at first, searching. Then deeper. Hungrier. Their breaths mixed like heat and honey. Her hands slid to his chest, gripping his shirt as something unfamiliar and electric surged through her.
She didn’t understand it fully, but her body did.
She felt it between her thighs—warmth, a pulse, a pressure. She shifted slightly, embarrassed by the wetness gathering in her panties, unsure if it was normal… or just him. His touch lit something inside her she had never known existed.
Kelvin’s hands were gentle but bold, sliding along her waist, pulling her closer. His lips broke from hers and traced a slow, burning path along her neck, down to her collarbone. Then lower.
He leaned into her, slowly kissing the top of her chest, his fingers brushing the hem of her shirt.
“Susan,” he murmured, breath hot against her skin, “tell me if I go too far.”
Her body trembled beneath him. Her thoughts were swimming. Her lips parted to speak… but then, with a sharp inhale, she pulled back just a little.
“Wait,” she whispered, voice shaking. “I want this… but not too fast.”
Kelvin froze, and when he looked at her, there was no anger. Just something rare—respect. He smiled softly and kissed her forehead instead.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said gently. “We’ll go slow. You lead. I’ll follow.”
She exhaled, her heart swelling with something deeper than lust. Something real.
He wrapped his arms around her, laying with her in the soft glow of the evening light. No rush, no pressure—just quiet closeness, and the kind of warmth that lingered long after the moment had passed.
Now, back in her bed, the memory lingered in her dreams like a perfume she couldn’t forget. Her body shifted under the sheets, heat curling in her belly. She moaned faintly in her sleep, lips parted, whispering his name.
Kelvin.
But dreams always end.
A sudden gust of wind rattled her window, pulling her gently from sleep. Her eyes opened slowly, still lost between fantasy and reality. She could still feel his lips on her skin, his breath in her ear, the comfort of his arms.
And in that moment, she wasn’t just Susan—the girl with shadows in her past. She was a woman beginning to feel the fire of her future.
- Writer
