Ethan
What the fuck? What are you even doing here? I'm trying to sleep.
Do you think you can read into my innermost thoughts, my secret feelings, and figure something out? Nah, probably not. Whatever. You want to see what I dream about? Alright then, have at it.
I guess you want me to say that I've never slept this well before, but you're wrong. The best night's sleep I ever had was after my first night of double practice sessions for football during my freshman year of high school. Six hours of practice split between three hour sessions, one in the morning, then a couple hours of break, and another in the afternoon.
Up until then, practice for football was kind of easy. Just junior league level shit, nothing crazy or intense. In high school you go hard, though. There's a lot going on, a lot to learn, and you need to actually get into shape. I thought I was doing pretty well for myself before that, but apparently not. Your muscles burn for days until you finally manage to break through the aches and stiffness from doing something you've never done before.
The night after my first day of that was my best night's sleep ever. I still remember what I dreamed about. Is it weird to dream about a dream you had before? I don't know. Who cares?
First day of high school double sessions was also the beginning of cheerleader practice. They were a little pickier about who they allowed on the squad, so there was actual training and tryouts going on. For football, at least at the high school level, they basically just let anyone on the team. You either quit because you can't move anymore and you're too lazy to keep trying, or you stick it out. You might not play a lot, but it's still fun to fuck around during practice.
Not everyone's a hero. Not everyone has to be in the spotlight. Sounds fucked up coming from me, I know. It's true, though. I like everyone I play with, whether they're third string and never actually play during a game, or they're guarding me as I move back to make a game winning pass. They all went through the same shit I did, they survived, and they kept going. For that, they have my respect.
Cheerleaders don't have time for that many extra girls on the squad, though, so they do it differently. Whatever. What do I care? I'm not a cheerleader. Never wanted to be one, either. They can do what they want.
The thing is, Ashley was trying out that year. Never thought of her as the cheerleader type, but I could definitely get used to seeing her in those short skirts. I kept glancing over during practice to see what was going on with her, and she looked like she was doing alright. Struggling a little, but whatever. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? I admit she's not the most athletic girl in the world, but I feel like she has potential if you give her a chance.
So... well... yeah, my dreams that night consisted of the heavy sleep of someone who is drop dead tired from exertion, none of their muscles able to do much more than almost flex, and thinking about what it'd be like to throw a game winning touchdown, and have one of the cheerleaders run out on the field, jump into my arms, wrap her legs around my waist, and just make out with me right there.
In my mind, the cheerleader may or may not have been Ashley. That was before all this crazy shit happened. Don't get any ideas. She still wore glasses then, and maybe our parents were dating but they never told us. I didn't know she was going to be my stepsister some day. I didn't know we'd end up in this screwed up "with benefits" situation that we're in now.
I wish I'd known. Maybe it would have made all this easier. Probably not. Oh well.
She never came back after that, though. Just left. I don't know what happened. I guess I've always kind of wondered, but it's none of my business. Maybe she hated it.
It would have been nice, though. Not my dream, because what the fuck, what do I care about that? I mean, yeah, that would have been nice, too, but...
Just would have been nice seeing her on the sidelines, cheering. I don't know why. Don't ask me that. It's complicated. Confusing as fuck, even to me.
Tonight is different. It's nice, but in a different way.
I wake up in the middle of the night and there's some cuddly fucking teddy bear on me or something? When I open my eyes, I see her. Her hair's covering her face a little, but she's got her head on my shoulder, cheek cradled against my neck. One of her arms clings to me tight, and she has her leg wrapped around me, too.
Also, she's naked. Yeah, that's right. Of course she is, since I stripped her down before we got into bed. I'm naked, too. And hard as fuck. She moves a little in her sleep and her leg shifts closer to me, rubbing against my cock. I twitch uncontrollably. This isn't supposed to be erotic. She's sleeping for fuck's sake!
I guess it's not that it's erotic, it's just that I can't help it. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know why, I just can't.
I have one arm tight around her, under her head, holding her close. I move my other hand to grab her leg and pull her even closer to me. She opens her mouth and yawns slightly, then mumbles in her sleep. I wonder what she's dreaming about? You think it's about me? That'd be nice, huh?
I caress my fingers up her thigh to the center of her body, then nearer to her ass. I hold her there, squeezing slightly.
This week is supposed to be about her. About making her feel better. More confident. I know that, but I can't help wanting to explore every inch of her body, too. I want to touch her all over, to figure her out, to map her entire fucking existence in my mind so I'll never forget it. I stretch my fingers lower, reaching around and behind her, until my fingertips tease at the entrance to her sex.
Just a little. I just want to fucking touch her. I'm not going to do anything weird or twisted. Get the fuck out of here. I hold her like that and she shivers and trembles in my arms, then clings tighter and closer to me. I move my hand away slightly and rub up and down her thigh, calming and smooth.
I kiss her. Her forehead. Yeah, fuck you, I kiss her forehead. She wrinkles her nose a little, probably because her hair is in her face, tickling her. I kiss her nose, too. Then her eye, her cheek. I crane my neck up and to the side until I can kiss her on the lips, too. She pouts her lips a little, wrinkling her nose, then she kisses in her sleep. Not a real kiss, nothing crazy and passionate and full of lust, but it's sweet and cute and nice.
I love it. I kiss her again and just lay like that with her in my arms. She keeps kissing, and we do a back and forth thing. My lips, her lips, mine again.
I whisper something into her ear before closing my eyes again. You want to know what I whisper? Fuck off, I've already told you more than enough. Get out of my head.