Daydream Believer

"Someone's been thinking about you."

Right this very moment,
Someone is thinking about you.
You probably don’t know him
All that well. It may be a
Work colleague or a neighbor.
It could be someone from your gym
Or that small cafe you like to visit
On quiet, rainy afternoons.
It might be someone that
You haven’t talked to in years.
Nevertheless,
You’ve been on his mind
For quite awhile now.
You didn’t ask to be there,
But there’s nothing
You can do about it.
There you are.
 
Someone is thinking of you
Right now.
He’s holding your image
Firmly in his head.
What was it? Your laugh?
Your beautiful smile?
The cute way you tucked
Back an errant strand of hair
While talking about anything?
Maybe it was your walk,
Or how you stood in
A certain unintentionally
Sexy posture. Something distinct
About your personality, perhaps.
Your subtle friendly-flirty banter
And the throw-away compliments
You thoughtlessly littered around
Yourself without serious intent.
It could have been the scent of
The shampoo you used in your hair,
Or the tiny dabs of perfume
Secreted behind your ear lobes and
Along the luscious length of your neck.
Or was it that outfit you wore –
You know, the one that you put on
When you want to feel confident and sexy…
Yeah, that one – The way the fabric
Stretched tight across your body,
Showing off all your gorgeous curves?
Was it that?
He pretended not to notice.
He tried to hide his attraction.
But something about you
Caught in his brain
Like a baited hook in a
Salmon’s greedy mouth,
And he can’t get you out again
No matter how hard he fights it –
Not that he really wants
To fight against it, anyway.
Not right now.
 
Someone is lying in bed,
Picturing you the way you were
The last time he saw you.
The bed is too big
For just a single body.
It was meant to be shared.
The sheets have gotten too warm
And clingy for his skin.
He can’t seem to get comfortable,
No matter what position he tries.
It has nothing to do with his mattress
Or his firm yet supple pillows.
He’s been thinking about you.
He kicks off the covers,
Letting the air conditioning kiss
And caress his naked body.
He’s alone in private,
So it doesn’t really matter.
He relaxes, unashamed and
At ease with himself
And his thoughts of you.
 
You’re there with him
In his fertile imagination.
He’s watching you with
An intensity he wouldn’t
Permit himself to ever
Reveal to you in real life.
You’re a glowing vision
Of beauty in his mind’s eye.
He catches your eye.
You can see the restrained desire in his.
He keeps his secrets badly.
You have no secrets, yourself.
Your intent is obsessively clear.
You want him more
Than anyone you’ve ever
Wanted in your entire life.
He’s the answer to your
Every yearning desire.
You hold his gaze
With a spell of seduction,
Making your way towards him
As everyone else fades
Out of the fantasy.
It’s just the two of you
Alone in his mind.
 
And there, lying in his bed,
A twitch, a pulse
A dull needy ache
Deep between his legs.
His hand drifts down
Towards his nagging center,
Fingers brushing lightly
Across his firming flesh.
Responsive, the serpent
Eagerly stirs and comes to life
Lifting his curious head.
With the warm familiarity
Of an ancient rivalry,
He grips it hard in his fist.
A hard throttle,
A rough, practiced tug.
He stretches it to its length,
Pulling it taut, nearly to the point
Of the most delicious pain.
It swells fuller, harder.
(The average erection holds
Two pounds per square inch
Of pressure, with spikes
Of up to seven and half psi
When it throbs, like it’s doing now
In his warm, welcoming hand).
It’s a distracting statistic he learned
From who knows where
A long time ago.
He summons you back
To his attention, holding
Your beautiful body
Fixed in his mind.
He won’t let you go again.
You can’t escape that easily.
 
His imagination exposes you,
Stripping away your clothes,
Hypothesizing your lingerie.
Something sheer and sexy,
Revealing more than just
The meager suggestion
Of the treasures buried
Beneath the scant fabric.
He turns you over in his head
So he can see you from
Every seductive angle.
Nothing remains hidden.
There are no secrets left to keep.
The camera of his mind
Zooming invasively close-up
To all your most private places.
He can almost hallucinate the heat
Coming off your body, smelling
The intoxicating scent of your arousal
Darkening your damp panties.
How would you respond to
An exploratory finger down there?
Would you moan and melt for him,
Enticing him ever onward?
He believes that you would.
It is his fantasy, after all.
He can make you do anything
That he wants. Anything at all.
 
Someone somewhere
Is thinking about you.
His cock is fully hard now.
Swollen. Throbbing. He savors
The hot solid weight of the thing
Filling up the palm of his hand.
It journeys up and down
His length at a leisurely pace.
There’s no hurry here
Alone in his bedroom.
Absent of urgency,
He luxuriates in you,
Taking his time to indulge
In every imagined inch of
Your super-sensitive body.
Every single fucking millimeter.
Your soft, spectral gasps
And sighs fill his ears
Despite the silence
That surrounds him.
 
Smoothing out his motions
With a squirt of lube kept
Readily available from
A convenient bedside drawer,
He enters his surrogate fist
Like your tight, wet pussy,
Squeezing delectably
All around him. Crushing him.
His breathing settles into
A steady industrial rhythm.
His stroking keeps pace.
You incite a beautifully
Futile battle within him,
Wrestling with his urges,
Holding back his impulses.
It’s a war he knows
He cannot win,
But winning was never
Really the point anyway.
He occupies the no-man’s land
For as long as he can,
The liminality between
Tension and release,
A sand-castle siege.
He anticipates the fall,
Eager (but not too eager)
To be finally conquered
By his thoughts of you.
 
Turning your body over
And over in his mind,
He selfishly uses you
Every which way he desires.
You, submissive and compliant,
Servicing his every
Uninhibited need.
He is a needy man,
And your pussy,
A bountiful cornucopia
Stuffed full for his pleasure.
Your body becomes his
Trance-inducing mantra,
Feeling the taste of you
On his heated tongue,
Replaying you again
And again from every angle,
Slow, fast, soft, hard, loose, and tight.
He balances on the edge
Of give and take as he rides
The wave that will
Inevitably crash over him,
Drowning him in
Oceans of ecstasy.
 
Someone is thinking about you.
Thinking about that glance,
Word, or movement you shared.
That one thing he can’t get over.
Someone is having his way with you.
Someone is slipping past the point
Of no return because of you.
Someone can’t help himself.
Someone is losing all self-control.
His hand movements accelerate.
His thoughts are wild, approaching
The untamed frontiers of insanity, and
There’s you at the center of it all.
You, naked and glorious,
Satisfied and blissful,
Beatifically smiling down
From high up above him,
As you ride him steadily onward,
Closing in on the point of breaking,
Taking everything he has to give.
A devouring goddess,
You promise absolution
In return for his fiery release,
Burning away the impurities
Of his maddening lust,
Leaving behind nothing
But clean white orgasmic oblivion.
 
And then it all comes crashing down.
His body tenses. His breath catches.
His fist clenches around his pulsing shaft.
A jet of hot sticky semen shoots
From the tip of his purple throbbing head
With such velocity, it goes sailing over
His shoulder and splashes against
The headboard, dripping down
The dark-stained wood.
The next volley sprays
Across his undulating chest.
A third leaves a thick white pool
Collecting in his belly button.
The orgasm sends his mind
Into zen-blank reboot.
Ten blissful seconds offline
Between shutdown and restart
 
Spurts fade to dribbles.
He drags a lazy finger,
Following the trails of cum
Smeared across his abdomen,
To his contented aftermath.
Just one more minute to rest
In this warm glowing peace.
Just one more minute,
Then he opens his eyes
To find himself once more
Alone in his bedroom.
A thin sheen of sweat
Covers his body, and
The air conditioning
Suddenly feels too cold,
Raising goose pimples
On the exposed skin of
His sheet tangled legs.
He lets go a long, satisfied sigh
In gratitude to you and
All you’ve done for him.
He gives you a place to stay
Free in the back of his mind,
Knowing you’ll be there for him
Whenever he comes calling again.
He’ll come again and again for you.
 
Someone’s been thinking of you.
And you may never know it.
But this isn’t the first time.
And it won’t be the last.