Inferno Dreams: A Marisol and Rick Romance (#2 in Series on Reedsy)

[NOTE: Contains Sexual Content]

She saw him again today—not for one of their “Special Days,” as they refer to their secret times of stolen intimacy, but just out and about. That was enough to heighten all her senses—to make colors brighter, the sound of her own breathing louder, the sun on her face warmer, the memory of his earthy smell more intoxicating, and the bite of the chilled iced water she was drinking almost sting her mouth and throat. It was enough to make her feel as if her heart would pound out of her chest; enough to arouse her in the deepest areas of her body and soul.

          Marisol and Rick have been entangled in this love affair for nearly 15 years, following a deep friendship. From the moment they met, there was a mutual and compelling sexual attraction that proved impossible to fight, after many years of denial and desperate, gallant attempts on both their parts to do just that. Now that they have embraced the physical component of their complex relationship, there is no holding back. They are sexual soulmates. Yet, their circumstances and schedules only allow for once (occasionally, twice) a week “Special Days.” Then there are the times, rare as they may be, that they are apart for a week or even longer.

          They were currently in one of those miserable weeklong droughts. When she saw Rick earlier, Marisol fantasized about having him right there in the public eye. But that wouldn’t be prudent. Besides, it is illegal, so she stilled the hands that long to reach out to touch him, the lips that long to kiss him, and her womanly parts that beg to bond with his manly ones—on the spot, consequences be damned. It took a lot of self-control, even given the situation. If only she could control the tsunami of sensations still flowing throughout her body.  The tingling, in key places, is the most difficult to handle. Rick would know just how to handle it, make it peak, and give her sweet relief! Now, what is she to do? She hasn’t been satisfied with her own remedies since they got sexually involved—it’s a pure waste of time and effort.

Attempting to ignore her throbbing urges, she throws herself into the rest of the day. It didn’t help. She was on the verge of climax all day and evening, through work, grocery shopping, the painful call to her mother, and washing dishes. Finally, it was time for bed—let this day end and please let tomorrow bring a “Special Day” for us, she thought/prayed. As she began stripping off her clothes to change, she couldn’t help thinking of Rick and how this would go so differently if he were here with her. The feel of her clothes against her skin was erotic, as was the feeling of her breasts releasing from her bra. She just could not get through these routines without sexualizing them tonight. Doing her best to talk herself out of her own thoughts and feelings, she avoided her nakedness as best as possible, quickly getting into the least sexy set of pajamas she owned.

 She slides into bed and the memory of the last tryst they shared— between these very sheets—comes to the forefront of her mind, unbidden and unwanted. It was all more than she could take! Knowing she couldn’t even call him now, she decides she just had to attempt to self-service—any relief at all would be better than this torture. Wrong! There was no relief, just more torture! Giving up in painful frustration, she takes a sleeping pill and tosses and turns while images of their naked bodies engaged in all sorts of delightful activities flash through her mind. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, finally.

Hot dreams sear her pillowcase like an inferno. In between dreaming of random widespread fire, she dreams of Rick. Rick teasing her playfully, sinfully, with his tongue, with his hands, with his manhood. Rick stroking her back in that way that drives her crazy. Rick lying on his back, looking down at her, moaning his soft “mmmm’s.” Rick with her hands through his hair, while he returns the favor skillfully, hungrily. Rick, entering her, gently, slowly, and then more impatiently. Rick, picking up the pace and the intensity while she writhes and cries out in sheer pleasure. Rick stroking her thighs after they have both reached climax, never in a hurry. Rick making conversation while Marisol basks in her afterglow. Rick, in Marisol’s dream world, never getting to the dreaded kiss goodbye; Rather, readying for Round 2.

In her dream, Round 2 is a softer version of the 1^st Round. It’s just like the times when they are pressed together, forehead to forehead, staring into one another’s eyes while maintaining a slow and steady lovemaking rhythm. Physically, it feels equally wonderful, just different. Emotionally, it makes her want to cry tears of love and joy. Marisol wants to tell Rick that she loves him, as a friend and a lover, but those words have been spoken before, they inherently know how they feel about one another anyway, and she doesn’t want to spoil this tender moment with mere words.

What does spoil the moment is an annoying, pestering sound. “What the hell is that noise?” Marisol asks Rick, but he doesn’t answer. Marisol sits up and finds him gone. She yells into the bathroom but still, no response. Only that racket can be heard. As the fog clears from Marisol’s brain, she shuts off the alarm clock and slowly comes to grips with the fact that she was just dreaming of Rick. She puts her head back down on the pillow to try to salvage the dreams. Try as she may to picture Rick, his body enmeshed with hers, images of huge flames are all that come to mind.

Keenly aware of the fire between her legs, the heat of her face, and her elevated heart rate, Marisol postpones her morning coffee and opts first for a cold shower. That should take care of it, she insists. Regardless of the cool then icy water on her skin, her only focus is her nude body, touching it, and imagining Rick being there in the shower with her—what they could do together…

Ok, enough of this, Marisol thinks, definitely not helping! She nearly freezes when the air outside of the shower hits her body. Drying off as quickly as possible while attempting not to touch any sensitive parts, Marisol tries to focus on the tasks ahead of her today. She has some flower deliveries to make this morning and she will have lunch with her mom. Beyond that, she’s not sure yet but she will have to make plans to fill the time, or she’ll surely go crazy.

As she is moisturizing, she hears her phone go off. Slipping into a robe, she goes looking for it. When she gets her hands on her phone, she discovers a text—from Rick! She hesitates to look at it, fearing it would put her over the edge. Of course, she never really had a choice in the matter. She opens his text and sighs heavily. It read:

“Hoping you are up for our 'Special Day' today. Chat later and see you this evening?”

Damn right you will, Marisol thinks with a wicked smile, while her fingers dance over the keypad.

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*For more Marisol and Rick, read the first story in the series on Reedsy, "Finding Ourselves in the Dark," on my author page, and stay tuned for upcoming additions to the series.