Timpoochee heard the squawk of the birds and squinted his eyes open to realize the dim light of the awakening dawn surrounding him.
He snuggled closer to the inviting feminine shape next to him, warming himself in her glow, feeling safe and bold, even, in her softness and her arch back to him.
They snuggled closer and moved their hips in a dance which allowed them to seemingly reach beyond themselves and into the other.
She moaned softly as his firmness found her hidden sweetness.
Timpoochee knew no other feeling such as this.
Was he dreaming?
He reached further into her succulence, her desire building with each gentle thrust deeper. Her breath became heavy.
Dream or not, Timpoochee realized enough in the dawn haze to know he wanted to be nowhere else in this moment. Just here, just now.
He slid his hand gently down her thigh, feeling her well-formed legs flex under his touch. Back up around her soft mounds he slid his hands and onto her gentle breasts and nipples reaching for his fingers.
He searched deeper within her and as his hand slid back down to meet where they met. He found her pleasure and she exploded like a popping fire warming them both in her heat.
“Rising Fawn,” he called out in sheer joy if not delirium.
“Yes, my love,” she panted. “I am here.”
It was not a dream.
He was overwhelmed.