I don’t sleep well with another in my bed. I don’t sleep well at all for the most part. This tenuous relationship with sleep makes it precious, sacrosanct. There are few things more irritating than having my sleep interfered with.
I need to feel very comfortable with someone to want them in my bed, and if I don’t have that level of comfort, I don’t share well. I will lie there restless, unable to relax, hyper-aware that they are *just there*.
I let bambi fall asleep in my bed one night when he was here. We had played for some time and then snuggled into bed together in the aftermath. He fell asleep quickly, easily.
Me, I was lying there, restless, acutely aware of another body taking up space. Space that I didn’t need. Not *my* space. Just… space.
I tried, I did.
And some time in the early hours, I woke him up.
“I can’t sleep, you have to go into the other room…” I whispered.
His eyes half closed, he took a moment to register what I was saying. He didn’t protest, or question. He nodded and blearily got up.
I went with him, to put him to bed in the spare room. I missed him from my bed as soon as he left, but I needed him out.
I tucked him in, petted and cuddled with him for a short while. His slow heavy sleep-breathing returned quickly. Then I tiptoed back into my empty room, into my empty bed, and slept… bliss.
For all of that, the idea that my boy and I would not share a bed as the default doesn’t work for me. It makes me feel sad. I don’t want him out of my reach like that.
I want to know that I can fling an arm over and feel him there. There he is, even in sleep, waiting for me.
I like to touch him randomly, snaking fingertips into the space between us towards him until I feel warm flesh. The curve of a hip, the hairs on an arm, the vulnerability of his neck, the shape of his cock.
I enjoy petting him, not even really awake, feeling the texture of his skin under my fingertips. The softness of his rounded arse, that smooth skin behind his ear, his soft relaxed lips.
I need to know that if I roll over, I can fit my body against his and he will shift a little to make me comfortable, murmur unintelligible sounds at me, and push his skin against me for sweetness.
And if I want kissing, well, I want kissing right here right now!
I want all of those possibilities to be available to me, it just takes me some time to get comfortable enough to allow it.
Later on in bambi’s visit, he again fell asleep in my bed, this time still tied to the bedpost by his wrist. I didn’t have the heart to disturb him, so I let him sleep there (on *my* side, no less… see how lovely I am?!) while I went and did other things.
When I went to bed some time later, he was still out. I considered waking him to have him move to the other bedroom, but he looked so adorable, I couldn’t bear to do it. I slipped in beside him and actually managed to fall asleep without too much trouble. I was more comfortable with him by then, and maybe, I don’t know, but maybe, him being tied down made a difference somehow.
More testing required. You know, for science.