Can I sleep with you?
Can I sleep with you? Am I dreaming? Did Lynn, the woman of my dreams, just ask me, the old perverted guy, if she could sleep with me?
Always breaking an uncomfortable moment with humor and always ruining my chance with a beautiful woman by saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, a freight train of thoughts ran through my mind. Sometimes humor works, but most times it doesn't. Probably, it would more work for me, if I looked more like George Clooney and/or had his money. Only, I was a middle aged man with a head over heels attraction for a beautiful woman half my age.
No, Lynn, it's very inappropriate for you to sleep with me. How dare you ask me that? What is wrong with you? I'm old enough to be your father. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to want to put me in such a awkward and compromising position. How could you, a guest in my home, insult me by asking me a question like that?
Go away. I'm too upset to even talk to you. Get out! Get out of my room immediately. I can't stand to look at you, I'm so deeply offended. Please, return to your room, before I throw you out of my house and into the night the night to fend for yourself against, nocturnal creatures of all kinds.
As ridiculous as was her question, the retorts that I thought but, thankfully didn't verbalize, was just as ridiculous. Then, I wondered, what did she mean by wanting to know if she could sleep with me? Did she want to sleep or did she want to have sex?
"Yes, of course, you can sleep with me," as if she had just asked me, if I wanted a million dollars that she had found in her purse. Sleeping with her was like winning the lottery, anyway.
I moved to the side to make room for her, when what I really wanted to do was to move closer to the middle of the bed, so that she'd be butting up against me. When she passed by the moonlight that glowed through the open window, it revealed her shapely silhouette proving my suspicion that she was naked. Be still my heart. She's naked. Lynn, the woman of my dreams, is naked, in my room, and about to sleep with me in my bed. Thank you, Jesus!
Being that I was already in the room, when she entered, my eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and I could make out more of her voluptuous body, as she climbed in bed beside me. My heart and pulse raced to beat one another in my desire for her. It was times like this that I wish I had a crash cart or a nitroglycerine tablet in case I had a heart attack. Code blue! Realistically, I wish I had taken a Viagra. Still, with her walking by the window like that, I didn't need a Viagra because I already had a solid erection.
It was all so surreal and I couldn't have imagined a better dream than the one that was happening now in real life. Earlier that day, we were out walking our dogs in the dog park and I was happy just to be in her company, even for only an hour and now, here she is in my bedroom and in my bed naked. Generally, after I'm out with her walking through the dog park, that night, just before retiring to bed, I masturbate, while thinking about her. If I had fantasized this scenario, I never would have believed it. I never would have believed that this lovely and sexy 25-year-old woman would want to be with this lonely and horny 50-year-old man. Something like this never happens to someone like me.
She got in bed beside me and even without touching me, I could feel the heat of her body. She was hot. She was so very hot. I wanted to touch her and to feel her everywhere. I wished that I could hold her in my arms and kiss her. Just with the thought of her with me, my cock grew without the touch of my hand, until it stood straight out and up. Even though I was sexually excited, I was embarrassed and thought about turning away from her, so that she wouldn't see my erection. Now, I knew the answer to both of the previous questions, when wondering about her. She sleeps in the nude and she prefers the left side of the bed.
"I hope you understand and won't be offended that I don't want sex," she said with a pause. "That is not to say that I'm not attracted to you."
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," I whispered. Now embarrassed again, I figured she saw my erection.
Truly, it did not matter. Of course, I would have preferred an intimate, sexual relationship with her, but a platonic relationship, one where we sleep together in the nude, will certainly do just fine. I couldn't wait for the morning light to see her lying beside me naked. I wondered if she'd mind, if I took a few candid photos of her.
"It's just that I only need comfort and, well, you've been so nice to me by allowing me to stay in your beautiful home, and suddenly, I feel so close to you, closer than I ever have with my boyfriend or with any man," she said pausing again. "And you make me laugh. Some of the things that you say are so funny," she said laughing, no doubt thinking of some of the funny things that I had said. She paused again and I could feel that she had more to say, so I didn't respond. "I like you, Freddie. I really like you. You have been so very nice to me and never have you taken advantage of me, even with me lying beside you naked. I feel safe with you. I never felt safe with my boyfriend." I felt her exhale a relaxed breath. "I know you'd never take advantage of me for sex."
Damn, what do I have sucker written on my forehead? Does she think me a eunuch? I didn't know how to respond to her. I stayed quiet for a moment digesting what she said. Suddenly, she made me wish that I wasn't naked. She made me wish that I was wearing underwear and was not lying there with an erection. Now, I felt that I had betrayed her trust. I felt like a pervert. I felt like the wretched lecher that I was. I could feel my erection softening.
"Sex? Yes, of course, I understand. Please, don't worry about that. Sex never left, um crossed my mind," I said and we both laughed.
"Only, if you don't mind, Freddie, can you hold me? I can't fall asleep without being held, first."
Can I hold her? Is she kidding me? This just gets better and better. She's asking a horny, naked, middle aged man to hold her young, naked, sexy body against my decrepit, wrinkled, naked body. My mind was racing with imagined images of me having sex with her.
"I'd love to hold you, Lynn," I said wanting to finish it with...forever. "Only," I said with a pause, "I'm naked."
"That's okay. I'm naked, too."
I opened my arm and she snuggled beside me laying her hand on my hairy chest. The heat from her hand made my penis pulsate. From what I could feel of her without touching her, she felt incredible. I focused on the part of my body that touched her body trying to discern the shaped of her breasts by the sensation of them against my ribs. It was then that I wished I was built like a spider with 8 legs, or in my case, 8 arms with 8 hands.
The feel of her naked tits pressed against my ribs made me want to reach down and cup them. It was torture and she was driving me mad with sexual desire for her. This cuddling without touching was tortuous and felt too much like a couple's sex therapy class. Holding her like this, without touching her, was so erotic and so frustrating at the same time. Her patch of pubic hair tickled the hairs on my thigh and I so wanted to reach down and finger her. Afraid to touch her, afraid she'd get the wrong impression, and I'd touch something that I couldn't resist not touching, I stayed there with my hands out and my fingers splayed. Going for broke, rolling the dice, and taking the gamble, I asked her the question.
"Do you mind if I touch you? I don't mean in a sexual way but—"
"Touch me? Yes, of course, you may touch you, silly," she said laughing.
Slowly, softly, and gently, as if she was breakable, I ran my hand along her shoulders, down her back, and down to the top of her ass touching the top of her ass crack with the tips of my fingers. I so wanted to feel her firm ass, to cup her sweet bottom, to squeeze it, and to allow my fingers to probe her further between her legs. She has a wonderful ass and I've been lusting over her ass, since I first met her. I so wanted to feel her tits and to finger her pussy. I so wanted to make sweet, slow love to her. Only, one step at a time. She was already in my bedroom naked.
"I like that," she said. "That feels nice. You're touch is relaxing."
Great, I thought. Instead of turning her on, my touch is putting her to sleep.
I continued giving her a light back and shoulder massage with my hand traveling from her shoulders to her back and to just above her ass. Would you mind if I turned on the light? I never sleep in the dark; I wanted to say, but didn't. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought, while imagining her in an examination room with a 1,000 watt light bulb overhead illuminating her naked body.
