“I dreamt there was this snake. A huge, long snake, on the sidewalk. But coiled somewhat, on itself. It was red and had these beautiful bright pink stripey markings. It looked at me.”
“Hmm,” my spouse said.
“And there was this little girl. I was walking down the street, saw this snake. And there was a little girl who I passed on the street, going the other way, and I was like–oh, she just passed by right here. She must have seen this snake.”
My spouse looked at me.
“I wondered what she thought about the snake,” I said. The little girls in the dreams, I think they’re always me, my kid self.
My spouse didn’t say anything. He was having a low-language morning.
“Yeah, so snake dream. What do you think? Gorgeous red snake! Real subtle, huh. I need to get laid.”
“Sounds good,” my spouse said, gesturing toward his dick.
“Right now?” I asked.
yes
“How does your dick feel today?” I asked.
We were lying in bed, naked and cuddling intensely.
“Good,” he said.
“Does it like to be rubbed like this?” I asked.
pause
He fucked me, on top of me, pausing sometimes, sucking on my nipples. I touched his back as if comforting him, as if sex was a great difficulty.
He would pause, balls deep, and I would savor the weight of his body. Savor the feeling of accommodating him, as he lay between my legs.
He kissed my tits, then pounded me again, and I heard his breathing change, as he was going to come. I was overjoyed, when I felt his dick pulse semen into me, a feeling that the ritual was complete.
Which is not true–I don’t believe like that. The ritual is not about his ejaculation.
He kissed my tummy a few times then climbed off of me, and held me as I masturbated. Sometimes I thought of the red snake on the sidewalk, looking at me.
