The Anti-Feminist Diary

A Sunday Morning Dream

My eyes fluttered open, white sheets help reflect the faint sunrise just outside the linen curtains. I felt a bit sore and disfigured so I shuffled and twisted until I felt alright. The sun was starting to really come out and piece my pupils so I turned to the other side. My breath hitched at the view I was confronted with.

There was a man. His body rested on his right side, completely facing me. I know this face. It was that of the man I've always dreamed day and night about. His perfectly pink and plump lips slightly parted, soft snores and deep breaths escaped freely. That creamy skin I swear I could just touch under these sheets all day. Those grayish golden locks sat wildly on top of his head that's peacefully resting on my pillows. His eyelids would twitch every now and then, oh how I wish that even in this dream they would open to show me those light blue eyes that could pull me in so deep I can just surely get to know his soul.

Should I? Or should I not? Maybe I'll just test the tides and then decide later. I said to myself before running a brave, insecure index finger along the bridge of his nose to the tip of his cupid's bow. Gosh, I could just tell that his lips would feel softer on mine more than just my phalanx on his skin.

Come on! Why are you holding yourself back even in your dreams?! I yelled at myself internally.

Maybe just one more touch and I can use it as momentum.

I placed his face between my palms. His slight stubble felt scruff beneath my skin as I grazed my thumb along his jaws. I took my time in examining his face. I haven't seen him this up close. What have I done right to have had my mind convinced to whip this episode up in my sleep?

"Oh my god, just kiss me already." His lips murmured, stopping my heart from beating right then and there.

His lips crashed into mine and they moved in perfect sync. His body fitted on top of mine like its been rehearsed. He felt heavy but it made perfect sense as I wrapped my legs around his back. His tongue tasted like cigarets and mint but his skin and hair felt like silk and vanilla in between my fingers. The longer our mouths danced the more I felt everything. All my senses slowly but surely started to make some sense out of this scene. And then it hit me.

"This isn't a dream, isn't it?" I stated more than just ask, eyes wide open, after quickly pushing Paul's shoulders upwards.

"No, love.." He smiled above me. "Not anymore." He said before reconnecting our lips with another kiss.

What was this mad assumption? Turned into reality within seconds.

I couldn't focus on the kiss at first because I was trying to remember what had happened prior to my awakening this morning. But then I realized that Paul Joseph Watson was kissing me passionately in my bed, I had no reason to focus on anything else. I'll try to remember it later.

That day, I spent most of it making out and making love with the man of my dreams, and then the rest I spent on making him a sandwich.

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Didn't proof read, but I hope you guys still liked it.