Looking for Harper

I envy Harper and her easy sleep as insomnia mocks me and I vacillate between nocturne and semi-consciousness.  When I stir I try not to wake her, but she rustles the sheets anyway.  I hear a soft purr before she repositions herself and finds comfort again.  The clock reads 2:31 and I am struck with a sudden disdain for digital clocks.  Somehow the impersonality of an LED reading to reflect time seems impersonal and vulgar at this moment.

The only determent of time’s passage was the advance of the sterile digital clock telling me that it was now 3:09.  Since I do not recall the intervening thirty-eight minutes I presume it passed for sleep.  I feel Harper adjusting next to me and twist my body towards hers, as she angles her back, hips and head into the crevices of space between us.  Aware but not alert, Harper uses her left leg to draw my right between hers.   We are more entwined than two people should be.

Harper’s digits rest atop my left hand which sits languidly on her torso.  Slowly she moves my hand from just north of her belly button to the valley between her breasts.  My pinky finger on her right mound and my thumb on her left, she cranes her neck forward to kiss my middle fingers.  I pull her closer towards me in a gentle but lustful motion that closes any remaining distance between our bodies.  She can feel my alertness next to her and she is clearly more alert.

In seemingly one motion, I steer my lips to the left side of her neck and she digs her head into the pillow on the right which exposes a vast expanse of skin for my lips to explore.  Kissing her neck, caressing her breasts – we are both fully awake now.  I can fell her heat so close to mine. 

My hand traverses the length of her and confirms her warmth with a caress to the top of her spot.  Harper moves with the rhythm of my touch and reaches back for me.  Impatiently she finds me and guides me inside of her.  Slow, slow, slow, fast we move.  I pull her towards me with each thrust and she greets them with indistinct sounds. 

“Slow… just like that” are the first words spoken since we kissed good night hours ago.  Harper is slow like me, hotter than me, and wetter than I have ever known.  “You feel so good” is all I can muster in reply – I wish that I were more sexually emotive.  I am so happy inside of her but lack the words to tell her so.

I slide from her and guide her shoulders flat against the mattress. I find my way atop Harper and move inside of her while kissing her neck.  It is still slow, slow, slow, fast.  She protests as I pull back, pull out, but I kiss my way down her neck across her breasts – pausing for a beat and a bite at her right nipple – down her stomach, and stop just before I reach her.  I spend some time between her belly button and her hips before moving along.  I breathe heavily between her legs exhaling deeply to let her feel my breath on her. 

Harper pulses the moment my tongue touches her.  I crook my arm under her thigh and move her closer for a deeper pull.  I love the feeling of her leg against my shoulder, her calf angled against my back.  Harper is crumpling sheets in her right hand and cradling the back of my head with her left.  She tastes of sweet, salty and satisfying.  I her excitement feeds mine, until her legs quiver against me. 

The clock reads 4:09 when I wake to find myself alone in bed, awakened from a dream and still looking for Harper.

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4 Responses to Looking for Harper

  1. f.B says:

    To remember dreams that vividly…

    Or to be haunted by memories….

  2. Sweetheart, I’m a girl and now I’M even looking for Harper.
    “skin hungry” I like that.

    I cannot take credit for skin hungry – that phrase belongs to the lovely Single Gal in VA

  3. ella says:

    you missed your calling

    that’s flattering but somehow I doubt it.

  4. […] have discussed my insomnia in this space on more than one occasion. For me, insomnia manifests in waves.  Over the last twenty years, I’ve faced calm sleeping seas […]

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