I walk barefooted in the dimly lit hallway… the silky hem of my sheer robe caressing my thighs. I follow the trail of delicate red and white rose petals laid for me on the floor, until I reach a door – or what should be a door… There are curtains instead.. white and dancing in slow motion as the gentle afternoon breeze makes love to them… I feel as though they’re beckoning me… to enter, with tender promises of pleasure unparalleled… I come inside.
He comes from behind me, encircling his arms around my waist… Slowly tugging at the rope that held together the flimsy piece of cloth that came between me and his hot flesh. He nuzzles his face on the curve of my neck, drinking in the scent of me, as I feel the smooth fabric slip from my shoulders, to my back, my legs and down to my ankles… He starts raining small kisses down my back, my breast fills his palm.. I let out tiny moans of pleasure as I feel the gentle grazes turn into nibbles… Impatiently, he whirls me around… as he continues nibbling along the curves of my waist… As his thumbs knead my thighs, he runs his tongue across my belly… It’s wet and raspy and I feel feverish, my legs trembling as it travels down, down… A moan escapes from my lips.
I reach down to touch his face. And open my eyes oh so reluctantly to confirm what I’ve always known all along. It’s not him.
I wake up feeling dirty and ashamed.