Emma
Emma, I dreamed about you. In my dream we made love, I gave you as much pleasure as you gave me when we were in my bed, the last time I saw you. I remember your tender little fingers, the red nail polish, the way you were kissing me. And your French accent that moved so much in me.
Emma, in my dream I gently spread your legs and dived into you with my mouth. I have explored you, waited silently, celebrated every single moment, inhaled to see how you react. I have penetrated you with my fingers, I have gently massaged your clitoris with my tongue. You moaned loudly in deep pleasure. I liked how it looked. Your eyelashes trembled with excitement. I’ve often looked up at you, I wanted to capture your expression. I have saved it in my memory.
Emma, we shall only be once, two bodies vibrated in sync, a sensual symphony we created for ourselves. I think about you almost every day. You seduced me. You were my first love story, never have I ever felt more fulfilled with a woman. And yet I recognized my manly side in your presence. I could tenderly wrap you, never let go of you again, feel how fragile you are; small and graceful, an elf. My hands caress your face, I pull the strands out of your wet mouth and kiss it.
Emma, when we met, we immediately felt an attraction that does not need words. You knew how to seduce me, as only women can, without the cocky phrases, eye contact, deep, infinitely deep. I loved your talent: 5 languages, flawless, only this exciting French accent that has been preserved for you. You were like a little puppy who wanted to be loved. You persuaded me, with your hopeful looks, with your bewitched desires, how can one say no to that? You leaned against me, we kissed it in this bar with all the people and we didn’t care. We drank liquor en masse, we looked down at those who would never be free, we despised those who would never come out of themselves and indulge in their passions, just as we did. We danced, laughed. In the beat of the music we fell upon each other, a fiery homage to desire and the simple freedom that only a few have preserved. There was just you and me in this room. You snuggled up to me and wouldn’t let go, so I took you home with me.
Emma, you used to say: »Today we only live once, so what do we care about the next morning? Tomorrow we will remember those moments that will never happen again. Live mon amour, let it happen.«
Emma, do you remember? When we were standing in front of my bathroom mirror and brushing our teeth together, just like friends do. We enjoyed this sight in the mirror, our washed-out reflection. We were cuddled up tight in bed. You undressed me, you loved my whole body, told me how beautiful I was, spelled it over and over again, whispered in my ear: »Tu es très belle!«. I love your French accent, I love it when you speak French. I came to the look of your little red fingernails on my chest and your fuzzy head between my legs.
Emma, in my dream, we switched roles. I spoiled you as you deserve, I told you how beautiful you are, over and over again. I loved every single part of your body. I took my time, I wanted you to come, I wanted to give you as much as you gave me back then. I licked your nipples, I kissed your belly, I kissed your pubic hair and spread your legs. I felt how wet you were and drank the drops from your pussy lips. I also felt your longing to be loved, I knew what I had forgotten; in reality I could not see so far, but in my dream I perceived all your fears, desires. Perfectly clear and with a little melancholy, I think of you again today, like every day.
Emma, in my dream you were reality!