Jordan

The Dream?

Apologies for all the question marks with the recent titles.  They’re mostly meant to reflect my mental questions at the time, at such an interesting time for me.  Even years later.

I fell asleep about as hard as I ever remember having fallen to sleep, although personally I was almost annoyed at so many new things seeming to happen, in such a short period of time.  And even there there was a subtext, since I also don’t remember having ever fallen to sleep so sloppily.

I knew I came across as a carefree guy, but I had my boundaries, at least up until then, and I had all sorts of rules that I believed had always helped me be successful, including being fairly meticulous about my careful but half sloppy look.  And about things like always showering before I fell asleep.

So I was breaking all sorts of my own rules by falling asleep, for the whole night, in the very middle of having sex with Jordan.  In fact, as I would learn in the morning, not only was I apparently in the middle of cumming when I fell asleep, I then went on to have at least one, if not more, wet dreams that night.  Buried in Jordan.

But that wasn’t even the beginning of the craziness that proved to be that night.

I often tried to put a fair bit of effort into my days, so it wasn’t all that rare for me to sleep hard, and dream hard, through the night.  Sometimes I remembered them, sometimes I didn’t.  Sometimes they made sense, and sometimes they just seemed stupid.  Generally, I seldom cared.

So when I woke up remembering, being unable to deny the obvious meaning, and knowing I was unlikely to ever forget, I was a bit surprised.  Even if in retrospect I probably shouldn’t have been.

Even more so because I definitely remembered falling to sleep, being so content at how I seemed to be coming to grips, both with being gay, and with committing myself to being the best top I could figure out how to be, for both me and Jordan.

My dream started out pretty normal. 

I was always very aware somehow of where I was in my own dreams.  So that was pretty standard.  And Jordan was there.  A bit less standard, since I often was way more aware of what was happening in the dreams that I remembered, than I was of who was in them.

And then reality started getting weird. 

I had had dreams of being lost.  I had even had the typical dream of falling, although, also fairly typical, I think, I always woke before I hit any kind of bottom.

I was losing my bearings.  I was definitely there to begin with.  I remember seeing Jordan in the dream.  I even remember seeing me.  And then it became more and more clear that Jordan wasn’t a person in the dream, but somehow the event.

That had to have been at least one of the times I came in my sleep that night, as I got closer and closer to him.  And I’m not sure it was all that clear at the time, but in retrospect I am sure we were both naked, almost from the start.

And then I started getting lost.  But I wasn’t getting lost somewhere out there.  I was getting lost in Jordan.

It was like we were merging.  I think it started with our hands.  Which was weird as hell, but somehow I got comfortable with what was happening.  But the clearer the dream was, and even more so the clearer the memory of the dream was, I remember being a bit worried as somehow the two of us lost an arm.  Or each of us gained the other’s arm.  Or my arm, my right arm, became, originally I thought, his left arm.  But then it was clear it wasn’t his left arm, but his right arm, as well.  So somehow, as we got closer, our right arms became one arm.

I remember being a bit terrified.  Was it a nightmare of some kind?  And then my nightmare feelings subsided, even as my right side started merging right into his left side.  Or so I thought, although it became clear our right sides were merging.  Into a single right side.

As we continued disappearing, it seemed, into three legs between us, and again somehow not side to side, and somehow even my sight seemed to start slipping, even in my dream.  But unlike falling, and never hitting the bottom, and knowing I needed to catch myself, I was falling, hitting, and almost disappearing. 

And the more I disappeared, the more peaceful, rather than terrified, I became.

And the process continued.  Not quickly.  At all.  Very, very slowly.  With me no longer looking at myself, which was my typical dream, as our faces started merging, as our eyes started merging, as our brains started merging.

Even as our cocks started merging.  And of course even in my dream I went hard.  As Jordan went hard.  And we were both cumming.  As our cocks merged.

Which should have, in retrospect, been as creepy as hell.  And certainly should have woken me up.

But it wasn’t.  And it didn’t.

And as I disappeared, it didn’t feel bad.  At all.  It was like I felt like a caterpillar, that had climbed into a cocoon, of my own making, that I had somehow made together with a second caterpillar.  And we were now emerging.  As just one butterfly.

I remembered our arms.  Our legs.  Our sides.  Our faces.  Our cocks.  Our hearts.  Our lungs.  And our brains.

I remembered our memories becoming one.  I remembered feeling lost.  More lost than in any dream I had ever had.  I remembered falling.  Further and deeper than I ever had.  And I remembered losing any desire to find myself.  Any desire, at all, to catch myself.

And we both disappeared.  Somehow into an even deeper sleep.  And I had no thoughts at all.  We had thoughts.  We were falling into this deeper sleep.

And I woke.  So so slowly.

Jordan was there.  Somehow still sleeping, even though I looked at my watch, and was shocked at how many hours had gone by. 

At how peacefully he still seemed to be sleeping.  Breathing.

So close to me.  So, so, naked, somehow.

I touched his cheek.  So, so, gently.  My dream was so vivid.  Even as I was awake.  Like touching the wing of a butterfly.  Making sure I didn’t get any of that color from the wing on my finger.

Being so aware that my cock seemed to have stayed in him.  All night long.  That I wasn’t even sure whether it was hard.  That somehow it didn’t matter.  Even though I could clearly feel all the fluid around it.  Again somehow like I thought a butterfly must feel, as it crawled out of its cocoon.

Out of our cocoon.

I kissed his cheek again.  He moved his face, but he didn’t seem to be waking.  His lips moved to where his cheek had been.  I kissed him again.  Even more gently.  Even more slowly.

As his mouth opened.  Ever so slightly.  Drawing my tongue into it.

We really had merged.  Even as he slept, I knew where my tongue was supposed to go.  Where his tongue met mine.  It was like I was fucking a pussy, and the eggs were swimming out to find the sperm, as the sperm was searching for the eggs.  That was the first I could actually tell that I was harder than not, although not entirely hard.  Resting in his ass.  My ass.  His cock.

Nothing mattered any more, other than that we were together.

Neither of us were caterpillars anymore.

What a crazy dream.  What a wild awakening, even as it was so peaceful.

What had emerged was so crazily beautiful that I was in awe that I was able to be part of it.  Somehow like I thought a caterpillar must feel like, when it sees a butterfly.  But having no idea that’s what its future would be.

As I fell back asleep. 

Again.

As the sun slowly dawned on us.  Even if that word didn’t mean two guys anymore.

I did make sure my cock was in as deep as my pubes, as I drifted off.  I was sure all the cum would keep us secured.

With our tongues still connected.