images amidst morning dreams

I have two characters. The one is old, around 40-45. The other one is of undefined age, ranging from 15 to 28. This morning, they were having slow, profound sex in my head.+ + +"You know, sometimes I need to pretend I'm someone else...so I can have some softness inside...but when they sense it...they want to rip it apart," the young one was saying.In my head, his voice was heaving as he moved onto the older man's lap with the indistict back-and-forth that reminded me of the sea."I want this," he said. His hands splayed on the young one's immaculate hips. "I want you to let me in, let me feel it.""Be good to me," the boy whispered, hovered over the other's opened lips, whispering the Truth, planting it underneath the tender shiny plains of his mouth."Is this the real you?" the older guy questioned, squinting into the depths of his eyes."Yes. Maybe. Truth hurts. Be careful."+ + +Then I kind of woke up for good and tried to capture the essence of their being sweaty and soft and intimate in bed. Such images are hard to render in words.

1 piece of writing by Orestes

the in-between space