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From: "Eros' Dreams" <eros_dreams@hotmail.com>
Subject: Repost: {Adhara} "Dreamwalking" {MF} CR: 10,10,10
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Hello readers,

This is a repost of a story that originally was titled "On Wilder
Shores". It received a 10,10,10 from Celestial Reviews.

-- Adhara

DREAMWALKING
by Adhara Law
Copyright 1998 Adhara Law (eros_dreams@hotmail.com). All rights 
reserved. May not be reproduced or distributed, with the exception of 
USENET archiving, without express written permission by the author.


The simple act of pouring coffee became a delicate ritual under her 
careful ministrations. He smiled as she handed the cup over to him and 
counted his change into his outstretched palm. 

He chose a table by the window, the same table he sat in every 
afternoon. His routine began -- sip the coffee, turn the page of the 
day's newspaper, gaze out the window at the activity on the street. 

"Looks like a nice day." 

He was interrupted by the tinkling melody of her voice. He turned to see 
her cleaning the table next to his, her narrow hips swaying as she 
pushed the damp towel across the table. She was a new sight in this 
place that he'd been coming to for the past eight months. 

"Yeah, I guess it does." He winced inwardly at his lack of creativity. 

He tried not to let her see his eyes linger a little too long on her 
pleasant form, but she noticed him staring anyway. She smiled back. Her 
long, dark brown hair flipped over her shoulder as she started back into 
the kitchen. 

Weather makes not for good conversation, he thought. 




She was there again the next day, this time with a smile that held the 
glint of familiarity in it. As she handed over his coffee, he stumbled 
over thoughts of what to say to her, desperately thinking but coming up 
with nothing. The English language suddenly seemed like a foreign tongue 
to him. 

He settled into his routine, but not without minor disorder. The paper 
wasn't all that interesting, and the street looked the same as it always 
did. The sights inside the coffee shop were much more interesting. 
Again, she began cleaning the table next to his, the towel in her hand 
swishing silently back and forth. 

"So," he began quietly. "You're new here?" He hid his reddening face 
behind his coffee mug. 

"Yeah, just started yesterday." Swish. Swish. Hips swayed. 

"That's great." He fumbled. 

She flashed a smile as she turned back toward the counter. 

That night, he lay in the warm darkness of his bedroom, drifting off to 
sleep, trying to recreate the image of her swaying hips in his dimming 
consciousness. As they moved, delicately and enticingly, back and forth, 
almost in a dance, he saw that she wore jeans just tight enough, and a 
red shirt that seemed sewn just for her body. She smiled at him as he 
sipped his coffee, her lips just barely stained with dark pink lipstick. 
But then his boss came into the coffee shop and asked him what he was 
doing there when he should have been working. He tried to explain that 
he had just finished work for the day and that this was his off time. 
But the coffee shop morphed into the office and the girl faded slowly 
out of existence as he reached across the dream toward her. 

The next day, she was wearing tight jeans and a form fitting red shirt. 

He chalked it up to coincidence as he took the coffee from her, her eyes 
latching onto his while she smiled with the same pink lips from the 
dream. The coffee mug shook on the way to the table. 

That night, sleep came later than usual. The image of her hair falling 
across her face as she leaned across the tables wouldn't make room for 
anything else, but he didn't really mind. It did make sleeping 
difficult, however. 

But it came, eventually. And she came with it. This time, she wore a 
dark sundress that fell in forest green folds to her calves and left 
bare her pale shoulders and smooth back. She sat next to him on the 
ground, which felt soft and moveable beneath his hands. He looked around 
to notice that they were on a long stretch of beach, alone for miles. 
The burnished sun hung low in the sky, as if its own heavy weight were 
dragging it down. Her face was inches from his, and she leaned in, 
putting her hand on his cheek as she kissed him. It seemed natural, 
kissing this woman whose name he didn't even know. He immersed himself 
in her presence completely, letting the feel of her wash over him like 
the waves on the beach on which they sat. 

But she pulled away from him, and no matter how hard he tried to see 
her, she faded out of his vision. 

Her voice wrapped delicate tendrils around him. "Tomorrow night." 

He nearly tripped headfirst over the counter when he saw the dress she 
wore the next day. 

He swore to himself that he wasn't going crazy as he carefully and 
deliberately carried his shaking coffee to his usual table. This is not 
happening, he told himself. But it was happening, because she was 
wearing that green dress. 

"You look like you've got a little sunburn there." 

Drops of coffee splattered to the table as he jumped, startled by her 
voice. 

"Looks like you were at the beach." She smiled coyly as she cleared 
dirty plates and mugs off the table in front of him. 

"B-beach?" He stammered. "No, I...uh, I didn't go to the beach 
yesterday. No." 

Her smile stretched across her pretty lips even further as she turned 
away, leaving him shaking and sweating and staring after her. 

That night, he feared his bed. He found every excuse not to get into it, 
though he knew that he could only fight off sleep for so long. His plan 
was to let himself get so tired that he had no energy for dreams. But at 
one o'clock in the morning, he finally succumbed to slumber. 

Waves. He could hear them crashing close by, but he couldn't see them. 
Then he realized it was because it was dark; pinpoints of sparkling 
light dotted the night sky, and behind him rose the full moon. And she 
stood under it, not a shred of clothing on her beautiful body. 

Breath caught in his throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew 
he was dreaming, but the texture of her skin, the way the moonlight 
glinted off the beads of sea spray that dripped like melting wax down 
the hills and valleys of her body...it was all too real. Too 
breathtakingly, wonderfully real. 

She stepped closer to him and put her hands gently to his face. "Are you 
scared?" She asked, her words so quiet that the sounds of the crashing 
sea almost took them before he heard them. He could only nod, his eyes 
closed. 

He felt himself being gently pulled to the ground, his knees sinking 
slightly in the soft grains of sand. She guided him onto his back and 
straddled him, placing her palms on his stomach and moving them slowly, 
deliberately, over his skin and up to his chest, where she gently caught 
his nipples with her thumbs. He'd never felt a more real, concrete 
sensation, dream or otherwise. 

He laced his fingers behind the small of her back and she leaned down, 
her long dark hair tickling his stomach enough to make him gasp for a 
breath. Her lips placed a row of minute kisses from his navel to the 
hollow of his neck as she worked her way up his body, and all the while 
her hands were massaging him to life, although by now it wasn't a 
difficult job. 

"I like water, don't you?" She asked, her lips grazing his ear. Before 
he could answer, he felt water flowing over his legs and stomach. He 
looked down and noticed that they were now in some sort of pool created 
by the tide. He leaned back against smooth rock, holding her against him 
as she took the soft folds of his earlobe into her mouth, sucking 
gently. The incoming tide created a slow rhythm in the shallow pool that 
became their metronome. 

His pulse raced from nervousness and fear. She sensed it, reaching 
behind her to take his hands from her waist. Grasping them lightly in 
hers, she placed his palms on the softness of her breasts and pressed. 
The tiny beads of her nipples as they bit into his palms called his 
adrenaline out of its hiding place. She pulled his hands slowly down her 
body as her eyes stayed locked on his. When they reached the soft down 
between her legs, her head rolled back and a moan wafted out over the 
beach. 

He gingerly pushed a finger into uncharted territory, the water eddying 
around it as he moved gently with the tide's rhythm. As she moved her 
hips against his hand, he leaned forward, the sensations overriding any 
hesitation he'd felt before, and slowly licked the beads of seawater 
that dripped from her nipples. If moonlight has a taste, he thought, 
surely this is it. 

She reached down to remove his hand and replace it with a different part 
of him. Water coursed in and around them as she slid him into her, her 
hips meshing with his as they fell into the natural rhythm that the 
crashing waves beat out. Dream time took over; seconds stretched into 
minutes, minutes into hours. The tide rose with them. 

The crashing waves, the rising tide, her snaking hips. He rose to a 
crescendo, afraid that it was too soon, but she dug fingernails deep 
into his shoulders moments before his own release, and cried out as she 
threw her head back. Her lips locked with his for interminable minutes, 
and then she shifted to stand in the small tidepool. 

His breathing attempted to level itself as she leaned down to his ear. 
Her hair tickled his shoulders as she spoke. "Tallia," she whispered. 
She turned away and stepped out of the pool, moonlight flowing down her 
legs in tiny streams of seawater. She turned and walked away from him 
down the beach, fading out of his vision with every step. 




The door to the coffee shop seemed made of iron as he pulled it open the 
next day. He'd considered not coming back. Ever. Something changed his 
mind. 

She was there, but in the back, partially hidden by the corner of the 
kitchen. He took his coffee and politely thanked the woman behind the 
counter, the woman who had always been there in the last eight months. 
He tucked the folded newspaper under his arm and headed for his table. 

He scanned the headlines. Might as well read sports before the 
depressing stuff, he thought. 

"Hello." 

She was sitting across from him. A beautiful purple sundress draped on 
her, curving where she curved. She was smiling at him, and it wasn't the 
normal coffee shop employee smile. 

It was now or never, he thought. 

"Tallia..." he ventured. Her smile rose higher in the corners of her 
lips. "Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?" He swallowed 
hard. 

"I would like nothing more," she replied. 

Coffee never tasted so good. 



-------------------------------------------
Adhara Law: eros_dreams@hotmail.com
more of my stories can be read at:
http://asuwlink.uwyo.edu/~astarte/adhara




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