He wasn’t quite erect but he was aroused. Wait, was was THAT?! Oh, pardon me, he’s highly erect. And somehow, in his sleep-heavy haze, he’s somehow magically taken off his underwear. He is spooning me in his nakedness; I am fully clothed in my pink flannel jammies with the sledding, knit-cap wearing polar bears.. and now I have a ginormous fleshy pestle trying to pound my lower vertebrate into powder.
I’m not quite awake, and you know when it’s sleepy sex… not quite awake to pamper and respond, not quite asleep to be oblivious. Just sex. Like two lions in the wild. No mating ritual required. No personality or technique needed. Just wham bam! and zzzzzzzz again. I don’t really want to wake up, I just want to feel the pleasure that he’s slightly too sleepy to realize he’s giving.
There’s something about sleepwalking sex. It’s like having a whole new partner. The same guy with the same eyes: but now the eyes are either blank or wild, and he’s dreaming of unicorns and all of a sudden, I’m riding one! Depending on the dream, he can be as harsh as the Gestapo or as gentle as Jesus. The partner is still ‘him’; still sexy and manly and hot… but he’s someone else… and if you’re a role playing person in the sack, I gots to tell you, sleepwalking sex is like having Sybil on Cialis.
There’s almost an immediacy to it. No talking, no buttering up, nothing. Just desire and taking what you want. (Honey Badger don’t care! Honey Badger just takes what he wants!) It’s kinda dirty, and I find it tremendously exciting…. especially when I’m still coming out of REM and I’m still dreaming that the penis is a very large butterfly.
Somehow, in our lethargy, I’ve unwound my left leg out of the jammies and his sword starts probing for my sheath. Things heat up. It’s hot and heavy and the bed is responding to the motion and our breathing is becoming passionately aware of the other.
A LIGHT GOES ON IN THE HALLWAY! HEAVY FOOTSTEPS DOWN THE HALL! THE SOUND OF WATER BEING DRAWN FROM THE WATER COOLER! And silence! Nothing but excruciating silence!!!!!
OH GOD, PLEASE! I hope I didn’t WAKE MY PARENTS UP!!!!! AHHHH!!!!
This is what happens when your man wants to meet your parents. You end up at your folks house and even though we’re ‘supposed’ to be sleeping in separate rooms (he in the guest room and me in the living room), I sneaked in to snuggle and somehow fell asleep! It was completely INNOCENT I tell ya!
I am frozen like a possum playing dead. My man has either fallen back asleep or is as freaked out as I am. And as the silence dragged on outside the door, I hop out of the bed and start to search for the other leg of my jammies. It’s somewhere around my ankle but my leg can’t step through it. I’m hopping on one leg in the dark while -awake now- he’s frantically slipping back into his underwear and throwing on a t-shirt just in case he looked too naked. Were we having sex? I dunno. I think we were. Were we loud? Were we grunting like suckling piglets or was it the mattress springs crying “We’re being abusively compressed!!!”?
Did my dad, in his thirst, need a drink that bad that he’d walk at this precise moment to quench his thirst?
Dressed now, we jump back into bed. He’s now lying on his side facing away from me; I’m now facing the other direction; our booties kissing hello as we nervously wait in our matching fetal positions. I’m also lying ON TOP of the covers for good measure. (It looks less guilty.)
The light is still on. Then the shuffling of feet. I hear the feet pause a little at our door, then continued to it’s respective bedroom, and… out went the light.
Crap. Breakfast is going to be…um… AWKWARD!!!!