I opened my eyes and saw that I had not been dreaming. She was there lying on my chest, her breathing still heavy, her body warm, still shaking, her pelvis still moving against me, her arms around me,and even under her long underwear she perspired and the wetness was a source of warmth for me.
The tent over us had confused me, I, at first, did not know where we were, but I knew her. Even looking at only the side of her red hair, her body told me it was her and it had been no dream.
There was no reason at that point to speak. Rather, I adjusted my breathing to her breathing and we lay in that cosmic space which two people can sometimes mutually inhabit where neither wants to move, least it go away.
Her being there on top of me was, of course, no mere academic exercise. Even in my dream I had a thick response to her moving against me, had my body gave in to every sensation she offered, moved with her, offered her everything I had to give and, dream or no dream, she had responded with everything she had to give.
I realized, at some point, that I felt better and was moving beyond the bug. I stroked the side of her face turning it toward me, her face now facing my face, warm breath upon my face, my finger tip stroking her cheek line tracing the tear path visible there.
She never opened her eyes and took my mouth upon her mouth with warm softness, her body shuddering from its touch.
Finally I said:
“I see someone’s been reading chapter thirty-one.”
She smiled over my lips and said:
“Not me, I am just here waiting for a bus.”
We both laughed making her cough through her tears and I through my own though still a bit weak from the bug. I had gone asleep and been awaken by a princess.
There was not, at that moment, any reason to say more, nor any reason to move, or talk.
Perfect harmony doesn’t seek improvements.
She finally moved because her astride position was getting uncomfortable and. to my amazement, adjusted her position to one of laying atop me her entire body length covering my entire body length.
Amazed I thought:
“What kind of woman could do this, could read the book, understand the cowgirl chapter, lay here with me, as comfortable as a married couple and not apologize for anything.
“That,” I thought to my self “is my kind of woman is what it is.”
I stroked her back soothingly and soon realized that her breathing evened out and she had fallen into a quiet sleep.
The waking up was going to be interesting. How would she react to all of this?
He wasn’t sure himself how he would feel after all of this was digested in his mind.
But he was not overly concerned. Sometimes life has a way of teaching you that you are not in control of life.
”We will see,” he thought to himself, “how Jenny really felt when she awoke. Maybe she would feel embarrassed, feel it was all a rash mistake on her part, maybe just get up and leave. He would have to see.
Meantime, he tucked her to his side and gently slide out of the bed and took to the bathroom to get a look at what he imagined would be his best haggard face and to thank his lucky stars he had met her.