I had a dream last night


I had a dream last night. I shouldn’t have had it but it came over me without my consent. I was in it, it was definitely me, but I was different. Slimmer, younger, a teenager again.

I was in a room standing at one of two tall windows that overlooked a playing field. At the far end were Rugby posts and I saw low, rolling hills beyond. Sunlight poured in through the glass and lit the room with a fiery late afternoon glow. I was dressed and warm. And I was not alone.

Another student sat at a desk in front of the other window. He was writing in his book and looking up occasionally to glance at the view. He knew I was there, as I knew that he was, but we did not acknowledge each other. We both wore the same uniform, we had known each other for years and we knew what we both were. And yet I did not know him at all.

And then there was someone else in the room with me; another presence. He was as golden as the sunlight, as youthful and as keen as me but more perfect, more desirable. He was someone I had wanted for many months, someone I knew I couldn’t have; someone whom I had to have.

I knew that this moment was my only chance. I knew that something was going to happen between us and that our one opportunity must take place now or not at all.

I turned to look at him and suddenly, strangely, I was now sitting on a low bed that had always been behind the desk but that had not been there before. I looked up at him, he was where I had been, standing at the window looking out. The other boy continued to write in his book. Both boys had been talking but now the second had turned to look at me.

I had said something to him. Something dangerous and provocative, something loaded with double meaning. Did he want to come and join me on the bed?
            ‘Because I want you to.’
            ‘But we will get in trouble. Won’t we?’

I looked at the door which was open to a corridor outside. In the distance I could hear other students moving about, heading for classes, heading for the playing field. I knew that at any moment someone, a pupil or a teacher, could walk past and see us, could look directly at the bed where we were soon to be lying together. I didn’t care.

            ‘Come here,’ I said and he did exactly as he was told.

He sat beside me and I could feel his aura. He was perfect. The moment was perfect. I had been waiting so long for him to show me that he liked me that I thought of nothing but what I could say next to make him move closer. What could I say to make him give in? How could I capture him?

I didn’t need to say anything. He was smiling, he knew what I wanted and he wanted it too.

            ‘I should be undressed shouldn’t I?’ he asked innocently. His short, dark hair caught some of the sunlight and behind him motes danced in the beams.

I felt the roughness of his blazer against my arm, the rub of his black trousers against my legs and the solid, cold underside of his shoe as his foot touched against mine. I was naked suddenly and he was still dressed.

            ‘It’s better if you’re naked,’ I said. ‘If you want to be.’

I knew that what I was asking him to do could only be driven be done by him. He had to want to do it. Then, when they came for me and damned me, I could at least say that there had been no force. He had consented. I looked at the open door again, still the sounds of the world outside echoed distantly along the sterile passage. Inside our room the other boy was writing, saying nothing; aware of what we were doing but detached from it.

And then I was lying beside him. The boy that I had wanted as my friend, the boy who I had so desperately wanted to like me, to lie with me. He was there with me. Naked.

My eyes travelled slowly, knowing that I was within a dream where there were no boundaries. From his soft, short hair to his smooth, cream cheeks. From his delicate lips to the slightly darkened chin where stubble was appearing. I looked. His chest was flat, rising gently with his calm breathing, hairless, smooth and strong. Mine. I felt an arm move around my back. My breathing quickened. I saw his penis. Large, glowing golden in the dying light. His foreskin was half pulled back with the strength of his erection and his tip protruded, pink and ready. Two hairless orbs rested beneath this strong, perfect penis; warm and waiting. His legs were long, his feet reaching over the end of the bed. Beyond them I saw the open door. And I knew we could be caught.

I tasted nothing but clean, pliable flesh as my tongue licked below his balls. I felt the fleshy sack that contained them rub warm against my chin. I looked up from under my heavy eyelids, up along the length of his long shaft, beyond its ridge and to his face. He looked down the length of his slim body to me, his smile obvious, his pleasure intense.

And then I was lying beside him again. His hand was grasped around my own, solid cock, gripping inexpertly but bringing me quickly to orgasm. I stared at his body, not believing that this is what we were doing. I was doing this with him. He wanted to do this to me. We were perfect together.

Everything was perfect and we were climaxing.

And I knew that at any moment someone would catch us. I would be sent to hell or to prison or away. But it didn’t matter. If it was going to happen I should enjoy the moment now. Nothing mattered but the sensations we were giving each other. This was so wrong but so right.

But it changed. I looked at my penis and saw it small and shrivelled. I looked at his face and saw him content and fulfilled.

Everything and yet nothing was over.

He smiled at me. I knew I loved him but I didn’t know what he felt for me.

            ‘You won’t tell anyone about this will you?’ I whispered. ‘Can I trust you?’

His expression did not change but now he was laughing behind it. Laughing at my insecurity. For some reason he held the cards. What I had done was wrong, what we had done was wrong. But should there be any trouble then he was to be the innocent party.

            ‘We will have to do this a few more times before you can trust us not to tell,’ he said.

The boy at the desk had had his back to us throughout. Now he turned to look over his shoulder.
            ‘You can trust me,’ he said, and started to loosen his tie.

And thus I am trapped; bribed by their affection, blackmailed by my own desire. If I want them to keep me from trouble I have to lie with them both; again, and again for always.

Because the night that I stop dreaming about them will be the night that I will fall.



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