The owls do not usually sing their songs so early in the morning. It was 7:15 and the sunshine was streaming into my bedroom. A soothing summer breeze flowed in through the screen window. The lovesongs of the owls woke me up, and there he was beside me, in my bed, my new friend Jose. His jet black hair hung in solid bunches down onto the pillowcase, his chest was moving in a rhythm that was smooth and regular. There was just a hint of a smile on his face as he lay sleeping. His smooth tan skin was so very tempting, but I wanted to let him sleep.
I propped myself up on my left elbow, my hand curled back to support my face, and I lay there watching him sleep, thinking of the wonder of the night before. Jose was such a mix of parallel contradictions. Very much macho and masculine, yet so enthusiastic in my bed. I thought of the things he had said while we were making love. I thought of him poised above me the night before, candlelight flickering against the wall behind my bed, smell of incense that had followed us from the living room, his chest was still moving so very slowly. I smiled and savored a silent sigh. So lucky to have met Jose, so glad he had decided to follow me home. He had this really neat way of kissing me. His mouth all over mine, his lips surrounding my own, passion that was completely unchecked.
He did not think it was important to be open about being gay but he certainly knew what he wanted to do when he was alone with me in my apartment. He had sat down next to me, just last night, and within moments he was all over me. In my living room, on the loveseat, he had pressed me down into the softness of the cushions as he kissed me in his unique and passionate way. Just last night, and here he was now, his chest rising and falling softly and slowly, next to me, sleeping in my bed. He took me to the heights of ecstasy last night, now I wanted only to let him sleep. Beautiful Jose, lightest brown skin, smooth, masculine, gay. The things he did to me, the way he made me feel.
As he lay sleeping next to me I thought of things to do with him. Fun things, entertainment, ways to spend time together. Just the night before I had felt so lonely, like I was left out in the rain, although it had been such a warm and pleasant evening in San Jose. We met at a bar on Stockton Ave. I knew I liked him as soon as I saw him, that wonderful smile that Mexican guys have, I wanted him right away. The sweetest look in his dark brown eyes, so sincere, so full of longing and desire, I had to get to know him. I have no idea what he saw in me. Jose was still sleeping, I reached over to him and lightly touched his beautiful hair. My fingers running through the smooth and oily feeling of it, thinking of the way it had fallen down on my face last night when he kissed me, thinking of him filling me up so much inside.
He stirred for a moment and I pulled my hand away. His feet moved up and down for a moment, in the fashion of a kitten that has been weaned too young, pulling the sheets and my comforter down, exposing the golden brownness of his chest. The cute little circles of his nipples came into my view, the manly cleft down the front of his chest, just a hint of body hair in the morning sun. I wanted to wake him up, but I decided to let him rest. Sweet Jose, lovely and strong, powerful and gentle, so kind and yet so hard, I thought about a pot of coffee, I did not want to move. The warm sun was streaming into my bedroom now, broad beams of morning cheer, promising another lovely California day. His nostrils flared very lightly with every breath, I wanted to kiss him and wake him up.
Finally I could wait no longer, I wanted him to rest, but I needed to be close to him. I slid my body closer very slowly, careful not to make big waves in my waterbed, until my shins pressed against the side of his left leg, warmth of his skin against me. Still closer now until my thighs pressed lightly against him, heat from his body warming me, adding to my energy, my desire for him increased. I lifted my elbow from the pillow beneath me and slid it very slowly over towards him, softly, quietly. As I rested my head back down onto the pillow, my face now level with his, black hair against my nostrils, my chest brushed up against the smoothness of his skin. My right hand moved towards him under the weight of the covers of my bed, my left hand fell against his left thigh. Still he did not stir.
Nothing could stop me now, I had to put my face right above his, leaning over him, feeling his breath against my face, my lips hovered just above him. Lower now, his breath a roar against my ear, tickling me in the most wonderful way, I kissed him full on the lips. He opened his eyes and looked at me and I melted into the darkness of his olive skin.
"Good Morning" My phone rang and it woke me up. New Years Day and I was home alone. Wow, what a wonderful dream.
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