They say you shouldn’t eat heavy, junk food, before bed. You’re also supposed to avoid any films that could accelerate your heart rate or cause you to fear the dark again. There’s many do’s and don’ts to guarantee good sleep or else . . . they appear. The mind-bending-fiction-taunting dreams that either terrorize you or send you into complete bliss.

This dream, or nightmare I’m unsure, was a mix between science fiction and crazy. It left such an impression on me, I found the need to document it at 4:28am. While Harry’s still asleep, I escape with my laptop out to the balcony.

The setting was dusky and obscure. I remember the tones so vividly, from burnt siennas, sepias and charcoal blacks. My feet shuffled down the last steps into the restaurant’s basement, an after hours bar for night-crawlers. I sense we're in the 60s by the choice fashion of those around me. An era I’m all too fond of.

Searching through the tables of military uniforms, dresses and smoke, I found Linda in the back. She had a head start and was now on her second Dirty Martini.

“Thank heavens, Jude! It’s about time!”

“I made it as fast as I could!” I gave her a quick hug before taking my seat beside her.

I ordered my Manhattan and soon we were knee deep in all the gossips that had accumulated since our last meeting. The hazy atmosphere was pleasant along with the faint jazz playing from the jukebox. Maybe a little too still. Quiet for too long, I noticed Linda’s gaze elsewhere.

“He’s handsome,” she said, opening her cigarette case.

I followed her line of vision to the blonde bloke with the side parted hair and innocent grin. He stood up, demonstrating his olive green suit and pressed pants. Linda held the slim white cig between her fingers and awaited his assistance.

Like a thread around her finger, he lit her cigarette and her mood. Joining our table, I listened to her interrogation and his eager responses. I scanned the room in hopes of finding someone to toy with but it was flooded with boys in school uniforms. The girls flaunted their candy before their drooling eyes and showed promise of an exhilarating solitary night.

Not to say my intentions were any different, but the script remained boring and predictable. While Linda’s hand persuaded the soldier’s collar, my gaze drifted towards the figure entering the room. His long trench coat concealed his body from the neck down, confusing my assumptions of his build underneath.

I took the last sip of my cocktail and watched as he sat at the bar, lifted his index finger and was immediately brought a drink without uttering a word. He blended into the crowd and it seemed like he didn’t want to be disturbed. His eyes, glued to the glass, prevented me from gaining any attention . . . until they pierced straight through me.

The dimness and fog of the room hindered me from locking in. I got out of my seat to head toward the counter and order another Manhattan; getting closer to him. His face held every trait from my love, all I needed was a glimpse of his irises to confirm the match. His body slid over to the corner where I stood. Flinching once his stare met mine, I noticed the different hue he possessed, green nonetheless.

They stared back like broken jade crystals, keeping secrets from everyone in this room. And when he spoke, the chills invigorated me more than 7 of these cocktails could.

“You’re bored, I see it in your face. I’m leaving now . . . coming?”

I shadowed him out into the streets. He knew I was behind him, I’d catch him peer from the corner of his eye. He blended so well with the night adding to his mystery. That alone set the tingles ablaze in the core of my stomach. We reached his building, went through the door and up the stairs. Everything still dark and gloomy. I had no fear but then again this was a dream.

I stepped in his apartment, not looking any different than the dimness from outside. The lights switched on, orange infiltrating the room, adding to the ambers and browns. There were plants in every corner and giant windows that allowed me to take in the monochromatic city.

His body pressed behind mine. Fingers dug in my hair and I immediately felt his lips sting against my skin. I knew I didn’t come there to talk but I didn’t expect to jump right in. It started with his scent, it wasn’t cologne but a strange musk. He pushed his body with mine till we crashed against the wall. His nose dented my cheek as he hissed, sending a sharp bolt down to my toes.

Then two hands pinned mine against the wall. I couldn’t think, I didn’t care, my body boiling more and more by the minute. The hem of my dress lifted, exposing my thighs and higher. I gasped and looked up, both his hands still holding me and I paused. Before I could think any further, I was spun around and taken by the lips.

Suffocation took over, the delectable kind. My mouth was consumed by him, filled by his wild tongue reaching the depths of my throat. I freed my hands and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off at once. His fingers cuffed my waist as mine roamed his back. Pausing again. I felt scars, dozens, everywhere I touched. He too stopped abruptly. And that’s when I noticed another distinction.

My skin against his held no similarity. My milky complexion differed from his grey one, not that the absence of light could prove otherwise. He felt cold and his tongue wonderful as it whiplashed inside my mouth. He undressed and carried me with effortless strength to his bed and there I laid still, engulfed by his full image once disposed of his last piece of clothing. As predicted, one thing led to another but I wasn’t too focused on the sensations and the motions as I was on his appearance.

Everything was hard. His body, his bed and his expression. Not to mention his penetration . . . overwhelmingly hard. His skin, still cool but the shade had changed and his eyes even more so. I could’ve sworn they were green at first but now they were overpowered by a florescent yellow and tricky pupil.

He held me down, one hand at my waist and the other holding my wrist. The aggression was welcomed as I had wished on such an unforgettable night. The dream played into my senses, feeding my climax with proper attention. The slithering around my arm heightened the experience until I observed his stronghold. It wasn’t his hand.

My eyes widened but I was more impressed by the lingering orgasm due to his growth inside, reaching a deeper pleasure, scaring me out of my skin. A dark green or black something rubbed against my forearm then slid away. My eyes followed with intrigue, it floated behind his back. The very moment I gasped, contemplating whether to scream, he pulled out.

His skin burned as he spilled over my belly. I touched it, desperate to know its texture. Slime. It stretched between my fingers and glowed with a gold tint. His yellow flamed eyes transformed from the rim inward, returning to their previous forrest tones. I refused to question who or what he was. It was done.

He pushed off completely, laying on his stomach beside me. My body began to relax and observe him some more. I felt like I was sleeping in the jungle, counting all the plants and listening to crickets. I dared caress his back again only to notice the scars weren’t scars. The darkness camouflaged all his imperfections but the evidence grew clear.

His hands were tucked beneath his head, provoking me to swallow hard once I felt something touch my leg. I hesitated at first but then saw the connecting limb from his lower spine as it encircled my calf and thigh.

“Is this alright?”

“I-I think so. . . you have crickets?” I asked annoyed by the echo.

Without a word he climbed to his feet and I gawked at the swaying tail on his lean figure. He disappeared into the shadows and then. . . silence. I quickly wiped my stomach with the sheets. He returned with a grin and laid back down. I had so many questions but no courage to ask them. Crawling down the bed, he parted my legs with his cold body. He knew that I knew and I was still there, enchanted.

He bent down to kiss between my chest and just when I thought I had seen all his talents, he pushed up just a little and stuck his tongue out to drag down my stomach. He pushed back a few more inches and stuck his tongue out once again, only it extended longer than humanly possible, about 5 inches. The air was robbed from my lungs. His eyes beamed and he continued further down. I knew what was coming, what he could do. He breathed over my swollen skin, ready to savor me for however long-

“Hey!” I jump in my seat. “What are you doin’?”

“I- uhh. . . I’m blogging about this dream I had.”

“Another one? Do you always write them?”

“No, but I had to with this one.” I close my laptop.

“Must be a good one then. . .”

“Try kinky.” I muttered.

The thought of Harry being a sexy mutant has me feeling all sorts of sensations. As much as I’ll try, I won’t be able to shake these images. But the plus side of writing this eerie wet dream is I can jump right into it without any warm up.

“Harry?!”

I catch him by surprise, tugging at his waistband and leading us to the nearest wall. His morning wood is relieved by my insistence. My legs are sustained by his strong arms as they rest on his hips then the thumping and knocking starts. The dream comes alive and my imagination finishes the scene.

“You animal,” Harry grins in my ear. All I can picture is the last scene of Thriller; yellow eyes and a devil smile.

---

After our exciting morning exercise, I whip out my laptop while Harry showers. There was a small piece left. The most important and unexplained.

The night had exhausted me and I fell into a blackhole. In the morning, the darkness remained. Blinds and curtains shielded the light but not completely. I turned to see my lover still deep in slumber and the marks of his back similating a reptilian creature. Looking down at my pudgy belly, I smirked at the wrong set of curves.

Then my belly moved.

Notes

A/N: Chapter Playlist

Highway of Endless Dreams- M83

Smother- Daughter

---

Hope this wasn't too disturbing but the element of dreams and symbolisms are important factors in this story.