My mind wanders to the photo that is now housed in the drawer of my nightstand. Chris, Donna, Natalia, Alexander and Dorian. They were not unlike us, just five friends that wanted to enjoy every minute together. They only wanted love, acceptance and understanding. They only wanted to live. And they deserved to, no matter what world they were birthed into. They didn’t get the choice that I was given. All of the trivial worries that plagued me months ago seem so ridiculous now. The five of them fought to live. To love. Privileges we take for granted. I want to honor their memory. I want to prove to my parents, both human and otherworldly, that I can do this. I can and will live up to my destiny.
“Hey Gabs, get over here! You’ll miss the show!” Jared calls to me, breaking me from my reverie.
I smile at him brightly. “Well, line ‘em up, because I’ve got some catching up to do.”
After Morgan belts out her tipsy rendition of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin,” we all take turns wearing the giant sombrero and singing our favorite songs. We even do a few duets, complete with ridiculously dramatic dance moves. I laugh until my stomach hurts and tears sprout in the corners of my eyes. I’ve missed this. As much as I love being with Dorian, there’s nothing like an outrageously fun night with your best friends.
I’m not sure when we all pass out for the night but somehow I make it to my own bed. Sleep comes easy with the help of one too many libations and I quickly fall into a vivid, colorful dream.
I’m on a white-sand beach, the bright sun bathing my body with warmth. There isn’t a cloud in the sky and the ocean waters are so clear you can see straight to the bottom. An array of vibrant multicolored fish and coral inhabit the crystal blue waters, and I gasp in awe.
In the distance I see lush green hills. Atop of them sit hundreds of little houses, all sandstone white with rust colored roofs. Very European. I look to the other side of me and find magnificent stone structures. Nature’s statues. Everything is perfect, and I am content, even alone.
I look down at myself and am amazed at the beautiful white bikini I’m wearing. It makes me feel so sexy, so uninhibited. I lay down right onto the bare ground and the warm sands welcome me. There’s a nice breeze, just enough to cool me from the sun’s rays. I spread my arms and soak it all up, completely relaxed and contented. This must be heaven.
Suddenly a dark figure stands before me, gazing down at me, blocking the sunlight from reaching me. My eyes adjust to the unexpected shade. I look to see who my mystery visitor could be and gasp at the discovery.
It’s him.
The strikingly handsome man from the market dressed in the navy blue suit. He looks down at me, giving me the same seductive smirk from earlier, admiring my body in the scanty bikini. His eyes dance with delight at the sight of me, and it makes me feel…sexy, desirable.
I don’t try to cover myself. I let him marvel at my curves. I even make a show of it, slowly letting my hands caress my thighs, my bare stomach, the tops of my breasts. I lick my lips for him and my eyes narrow as I look up at his approving grin. I continue to gently fondle myself, hoping that he will find pleasure in my erotic display. I want to impress him. I want to show him that even though I may be young, I can please him. I want him to touch my body. I want to feel his skin on mine. But he makes no move to appease me. His restraint is maddening and only intensifies my hunger for him.
Letting my fingers slip beneath the bikini bottoms, I find my scorching hot sex. I stroke it once and brace for his reaction.
Nothing.
I do it again, hoping to rouse him, yet he remains still, quietly observing. I continue to touch and tease myself in an attempt to show him how confident and alluring I can be. My eyes stay on his as I imagine that it is his hand that pleases me. I want him. And I want him to want me.
“I can make you feel this sexy, this free every single day,” he says suddenly, his voice seductively smooth. Just the sound of it causes me to quiver uncontrollably until I can’t hold it anymore. I want to give him every ounce of my pleasure. I want him to feel the overwhelming throb that consumes me. And I explode, dripping sweet sap around my own fingers.
I jerk awake and sit up in my bed, breathing heavily, the heat between my legs pulsing wildly. I feel the dampness on my panties. Holy shit! What the hell was that? Did I just…? No, I couldn’t have. But the proof is right here, saturated into white lace. Suddenly, the brightness of my bedside lamps flicker on and I nearly scream with fright, shielding my eyes from the intensity.
“Have a nice dream?” a deep voice murmurs solemnly.
Dorian.
He’s across the room, sitting on the chaise lounge. He has on a dark charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt, no tie with the top few buttons undone.