My “Could you go now? I have to get up early for work” bravado aside, the bed sometimes feels very big with one person in it. I like that part, being enveloped in arms. I have a thing for arms and shoulders. And there’s usually a really great, warm smell, a smell my skin couldn’t produce no matter the cologne or soap-on-a-rope used. It’s chemical, baby. So I still sometimes sleep in a teddy with a teddy.
I have a body pillow, a long, tubular sack made for side snuggling, good to hike a hip over. But it's awkward to get under the covers. “Ted” fits in nicely, crooked under my chin (I sleep on my side) and pressed into my chest. He’s a good lay.
There are times I can’t fully embrace myself enough. I do it more so when sad or feeling exceptionally vulnerable. Lonely instead of alone. On my side, I place ankle on top of ankle and pull both legs tight up to my stomach, arms criss-crossed like a regulation size Rold Gold pretzel, so snug hands touch either side of my neck. That’s a telling posture, and I don’t care for it often. It creates full body, protective flesh armor, holding every bit of me in. Much rather be flat on the back, arms and legs akimbo, every bit of yourself to the world. That comes too, more often than not.
Many, many years ago, on my first extended stay business trip, I made a new friend, Don. In his executive-sized-suite I found a plethora of pillows on the executive-sized-bed (I love those beds - you can lie at any angle without dangling or having your head hang over the side). He requested from housekeeping and slept with five standard hotel pillows, using most to simply hold to his body, to feel as if a woman was there. I found it odd and endearing and a really great come on. We girls love the pillows; they represent sweet and soft and squishy. Don and his pillows made me go melty for the same reason a man holding a baby or a puppy can, the combination of testosterone and tenderness. Don slept with five that night. No matter the number of shots from fake test tubes or time spent in the hot tub, at 27 I was sadly insecure and awkward sexually. But he was in my head during reflection and self expression in my room two floors down. Three pillows on my bed.
While we’re on the subject, naked sleep continues. I prefer it now, although saucy dreams don't always result. I’m a warm sleeper, flannel PJ's would perhaps kill me given my body runs like a furnace at night. Looking forward to summer, feeling cool against crisp sheets only, enjoying the soft blow of the AC.