I straightened the covers on the bed and fluffed the pillows, before reaching down picking up the book from the floor that Ben was reading last night, opening the bedside drawer and dropping it in.

The packet of condoms caught my eye and I reached in, lifting them out and climbed onto the bed, turning them over in my hand.

I thought about last night when Ben made love to me, his beautiful cock deep inside me, bringing me to heights of pleasure that left me breathless, always wanting more. But I knew what I wanted more than those hours of love making. I wanted to feel him inside me, without the latex between us. Just once. That would be enough. But somehow I knew it wouldn’t. What I wanted was something that was just as impossible. To taste him.

Some nights when I know I should reach for a condom and roll it onto his cock before I take him into my mouth, I hesitate, just for a split second, but he notices and shakes his head, and I let the thought once again flit from my mind. He knows how I feel. We talked about it once and I saw a flicker of…pain…sadness…. show in his eyes as if he felt he wasn’t giving me something I needed. I told him it didn’t matter but I’m not sure he believed me. It doesn’t matter actually, I know that, the disease, the condoms, the pills, the fear that I know lingers in the back of his mind every time we make love, is part of who he is and I don’t want him any other way.

"Michael what are you doing?" Ben’s voice from the doorway shakes me out of my day dreams and I shake my head.

"Nothing." I reply as I slip the box back into the bedside drawer and walk towards him and into his welcoming arms. I realize as he holds me that I have all I need, his love. I also realize that dreams are sometimes needed and I wonder if he may dream the same as I sometimes. That he wishes I knew how he tasted.