As Long As We’re Still In Love When We Fall Asleep

2015/01/img_0486.png As Long As We’re Still In Love When We Fall Asleep

No matter what happens just know when we close our eyes to go to sleep I won’t let you not fall asleep in my arms.

No matter how angry we are there’s no guarantee we’ll both wake up in the morning. For that reason alone we will talk about whatever is bothering us, hurting us, driving us apart and fix it before your head lies on my chest.

No matter how late I come home or what you don’t cook. No matter how many tears you cry or what words I say I won’t let you give up on our love because I won’t give up on you. I won’t give up on our love.

Life is too short to let pettiness come between us. Life is too short to hold a grudge with a woman whose skin I adore, whose taste I’ve become addicted to. Whose essence and scent have become as much a part of me as the blood that flows threw my veins.

We will not go to sleep mad at each other. On my life and everything I am as a man I swear this.

Heaven and Hell In A Touch

Touching you is like Heaven to a God.

Touching you makes life feel worth living.

Touching you gives me a feeling that I haven’t felt since I wrote my first story.

I have nightmares about the goosebumps on your thighs. About the moistness between your thighs, my nightmares are that I’ll never see them again.

Or that I’ll never kiss or touch them again. I wake up looking around afraid that our best nights were our last nights.

I wake up scared to death that you’re with another man. That he has your nipple in his mouth or your finger tracing his chest as you lie in bed and talk.

I can’t sleep because the feeling of your naked body on my body is the only thing that gives me rest.

Touching you gives me a comfort that calms me.

Touching you gives me life that I never expected to have.

I hate the fact that I met you because I fear that I’ll never meet another like you.

I hate the fact that you know what you do to me and could care less because you’ve probably did it to a thousand men.

I hate the fact that your smile can change my mind set in .00001 seconds.

Touching you is what God wanted when he invented our hands.

Touching you is what Satan wants when he wants me to sin.

Touching you is my Heaven and my Hell…

I need you but I know you’re the worst thing that could have ever happened to me because you represent hope and love and desire. Why do I need all those things if all you’re going to do is walk away from me.

Your touch changed my life.

Your touch made me hate life.

I’ll bounce back from your touch but just know you’ll never meet a man that would have loved you more than I loved you.

For I not only love with my heart and soul but I love with my fingertips and the tip of my tongue and the tips of my soul.

~ Demez F. White


I Had A Dream About You Last Night

20140327-200825.jpg I Had A Dream About You Last Night

It felt real. I was actually mad at myself for waking up and even madder with myself that I couldn’t get back to sleep. In my dream you were in a white dress, it wasn’t a wedding dress or anything formal. Just a simple linen dress that hugged your curves. It was sleeveless and came to right above your knees, the neckline plunged just enough. You know what I remember most about the dream, it was your hair. Thick and curly, in a bun that I could let loose and play in, run my fingers through it.

It smelled really good, like mangos. We were standing really close, face to face. You couldn’t stop smiling, why I don’t know. You’d look me in the eyes and look away. You look me in the eyes and look away. There’s a breeze, you hold your dress down, I rub your neck, you touch my hand. A moment passes between us. A moment that leads to me leaning in and kissing you. The dream scares me because I can taste your lips, I can taste to the flavor of the gum. It’s takes a second, maybe a couple seconds, to catch each other’s rhythm but once we do we can’t pull away. When I go for your neck and you whisper in my ear, “I’m so wet.” I can’t control myself after that. I can see your eyes light up, the aggression take control.

Dreams are worst than nightmares for me. I can accept nightmares, I don’t mind waking up looking around with my heart beating, feeling like I’ve escaped hell. A couple seconds after my eyes adjust and I realize I’m in my bed the nightmare doesn’t scare me anymore. Dreams are different though. Dreams don’t fade away once my eyes adjust because the feeling of euphoria the dream gives me can never die. Your smile, your moan, the way my hands feel gripping your waist, it feels like something I loss. Not like something that never existed. Dreaming about you, is it God’s way of telling me that this dream is just a preview of what’s to come? That this is going to be more than a dream.

I had a dream about you last night and I can’t wait to go home and see what tonight’s dream has in store.

Calming Her Nightmares

naked-thighs.jpg“I had a bad dream.”

With the time change the sun was up when our alarms clocks were going off, that was still taking some getting used to. So the fact that it was still dark outside let me know it was incredibly early. She was sitting at her vanity doing her touching up her nails, the only light was the recess that hung over the station.

She walked back to the bed, bra and panties on, her silk robe open.

“I couldn’t sleep, I had a bad dream.”

I was still half asleep myself trying to adjust to the light, trying to shake the cobwebs. She looked showered and fresh so I’m thinking she’s been up for awhile. I sat up, the cold hitting my bear chest.

“Come here.” She just stood there looking sad, I moved the covers and stood up to stretch. I couldn’t tell if I was hard because it was morning or because of the way she was looking in the morning but this wasn’t the morning for that.

“I know you’re still half sleep, get some rest before you have to get up.” She knew I was up now.

“Come here girl and sit down.” I patted the side of the bed, the sat down. I got on my knees in front of her. Kissed her knee and placed my head in her lap. She rubbed my hair and for a minute we sat just like that.

“Tell me about the dream.”

There was a comfort in sitting with her, a comfort in just listening. A piece of mind that came with touching her.

“I had a dream you didn’t come home.” I smiled, she couldn’t see it but she hit me none the less.

“Shut up! I’m serious. I cooked dinner and I put on that dress you love and I waited and waited and you never walked thru the door. I called you, I sent text, I called your office. And I just waited and waited. I know this sounds silly but I felt like you were dead, it felt so real baby.”

I wasn’t laughing anymore, she was a lot of things but she wasn’t easily shook. I looked up and she was crying, not hard tears but tears none the less. I wiped one way but let the others fall, I kissed them and then I kissed her.

A light kiss on the lips.

“I’m not going anywhere, you should know that by now. I’m happy and I hope you’re happy. I love you and sometimes bad dreams just have a way of creeping us out. The next time you have one, just wake me up.”

She kissed me on the forehead, “You were sleeping so peacefully, when I tried to get out of bed you wouldn’t let me go. At first I thought you were playing around but when I looked back you were sound asleep holding on to me.”

I stood up at the sound of our alarm clocks going off, “that should tell you all you need to know then. If I’m not going to let you go in my sleep, why would I let you go in reality? I’m going to take a shower, you coming?”

“Of course I’m coming, I need you to get my mind off this dream. And I love you too!”

Desires and Nightmares…

There have been a lot of sleepless nights in 2012 and I’ve accepted that’s my life.

I’m self destructive in a sense. I tend to push people away and then try to wheel them back in. I really don’t know why. I just can’t get close to people, I’m bad at it.

I charmed her and was falling in love with her and then I just pushed her away. And now I’m up nights wondering how I can fix it. How I can balance the passion and time I put into my writing into making things work.

There are nights where I just stand in the door and look at my bed. Two or three days in a row where I don’t even sleep in it. The only time I’ve ever slept comfortable is when there was someone in the bed with me.

My fear is that I’ll end up like my father. Everytime I take a drink actually it crosses my mind. Everytime I break a woman’s heart.

I need to kiss someone on New Years. I need to press her body against mines and feel her heart beat as the clock strokes midnight.

I just want to sleep…

Chocolate Dreams and Nightmares

The lights off, the fan spinning overhead, the tress speaking outside my window. I can taste the chocolate on your skin. The wetness of it, the sweet flavor, the stickiness on the tip of my tongue, it’s all I taste.

The chill bumps on your thighs from the cold strawberries, the way you giggle when the juices fall in-between the crack of your ass. The way you suck the whipped cream off your finger showing me a prelude of things to come. You love putting on a show, you love performing. Sliding your tongue across your lips, the dark syrup dripping down your chin, you love it when I watch. “Lick it off” you tell me, “Don’t be scared” you say as you trace a chocolate trail for me to follow from your collarbone to your bellybutton to the spot no one gets to see but me.

Touching you feels amazing.

Your skin is soft and vibrant, moist and lickable.

You eyes are warm and flirty, there’s sexiness, love and nastiness in those eyes all at the same time.

Your body is a portrait, a canvas and my tongue and fingers are the paint brush. Sticking two fingers in the bowl of syrup I trace a circle around your most sensitive button. When I touch it you moan, when I flick it your legs open wider, when I lick it you scream my name as if I’m the only man that has ever brought you this sort of pleasure.




You cum hard. Really hard! You pull me until I’m on my back, your lips wrapped around by. The syrup in the palm of your hand, your hand wrapped around my nature. Once the chocolate is soaked in, you treat it like it’s an ice cream cone.

One long lick up the cone.

One long lick down the cone.

Our eyes never close, I never stop watching you bring me pleasure. You keep me on the verge of cumming but with every stroke you know my limits. I see in your eyes you enjoy teasing me, enjoy sucking me. You have no intentions of making me cum, you just love the game.

Pulling myself out of your mouth, I kiss you deeply! You lick some syrup off my cheek and sit down.

I wake up… I wake up… You’re not here.

The ceiling fan is blowing, the trees are talking but there’s no syrup, no you. Just dreams and nightmares.

Sleepless Nightmares

This is the first night in a while that I’m going into the next day sober. It’s just hard to sleep when I’m in bed alone. I know people often say things like that in songs are poems but it’s the truth.

I’ve never known a more peaceful calm than lying down next to someone I loved. If I’m being honest with myself there have been far too many sleepless nights.

Last night a friend came to visit me. She’s beautiful and funny, more witty than funny and she’s not for me. It’s not a bad feeling because I respect honesty above all else. But it’s a empty feeling because I know what I’m capable of.

I used to believe that my life would always come back around to my happily ever after. The girlfriend that’s crazy about me and the memorable Saturdays and lazy Sundays. I used to believe that. But as the days, weeks, months pass by I’m starting to doubt it.
I’ve always known that I’m blessed in this life compared to what so many have had to go thru. I’ve never known hunger or abuse or fear that I’d be homeless. So to complain about anything feels almost ungrateful but to keep it inside isn’t cool either. So I write. I let my emotions, fears, regrets bleed thru my fingertips. In the hopes that if someone does feel how I feel they know they’re not alone.

God didn’t give me the talents I have to waste them. He gave them to me for a real reason and I will live in that purpose.

Some nights when sleep evades me I see his face. I see his smile. I see her holding him on the couch, singing to him and rocking him. It’s the most beautiful and scariest image at the same time. Because if it never happens then that image will be sanity and my insanity rolled into one beautiful nightmare.

“Tell me you love me.” Is what I want to text to her at times. You don’t have to mean it, I just miss hearing it. It’s been a long time since I heard it.

A long time.