A Dream, Wild, and Wicked

When she slept, It used her for Its pleasure!

Millie Dynamite

For your pleasure, another quick release tale.

The dream invaded her sleep. A slow, agonizing urgency plagued her, and down inside her, a pang of hungry necessity took hold. She dreamed of sleeping in a deep slumber she couldn't wake from. A type of sleep where things happen: nasty, bizarre, feral relationship with an unseen partner, a fantasy she couldn't control.

Unseen hands touched, alternating between seductive tenderness and harsh, obscene defilement. Closing her eyes tight, she thinks, 'Only a dream.'

Hands inside her thighs, forcing her legs apart, further, even further, wide-open. A face with bristled, unshaven, rough flesh, pressed lips to the soft, tender folds of her labia. A snake-like tongue slivered over the hot, aching folds, digging deep inside, exploring. The moistness seeped from her, a mingling of saliva and vaginal lubrication. The lathery fluid trickled down the crack of her ass.

Ragged breathing, wild sensual thoughts, and her racing heart conspired to push her on toward the ultimate, inevitable culmination.

'What is happening?' she wondered. Try as she might, she couldn't wake, and she couldn't move.

Hands wrapped around her legs.

She opened her eyes, staring down, her legs spread wide, the flesh of her thighs dented where fingers pressed, but no man was there. Her body squirmed, and her hands clutched the sheets, pulling, releasing. She shoved her twat against the tough flesh of his unshaven face.

Turning her head to the window, the bloated, full moon cast a ghoulish, yellow light in a wide shaft across her bed. The wallpaper turned to glowering eyes, ogling, reveling in her defilement by an invisible specter. A tingle of fear, pleasure, and longing traversed her spine. This sensation, a sullied tempestuous, fevered burning, scampered into her mind and hastened down the nerves of her legs to her toes.

All the while, the long, fat tongue darted inside, out, up to her clit, flicking, tickling, tapping. Down again, he explored deep inside her honey pot. And the excruciating dread and exhilarating elation drove her ever closer to the edge of sensual gratification.

But no one was there. No one prevented her from rising, but she couldn't move. Frozen on her bed, at the mercy of an invisible aggressor.

'This is a dream,' she reminded herself. Shutting her eyes tight, afraid of what or who was with her, she determined to ride the dream until it released her from its treacherous clutches.

How can she feel all of this?

'Dreams don't have physical sensations.'

An orgasm spread through her body, and tiny, bright shards of delight ravaged her. The woman's legs thrashed, hips bucked, and she squirmed on the bed in a sizzling climax.

With the arching of her back, joy washed through her spirit. And yet, no one was in her bed, despite the imprint on the mattress between her legs.

'How!'

Recoiling in terror, she again attempted to move. She blubbered tears, wanting nothing less than to flee from the cloaked lover. Hands, unseen powerful hands, forced her legs flat on the bed. Lips, full, firm, and wet, kissed their way up her body. Biting her, licking, tracing around her nipples, sucking them deep into an unobservable mouth, her heavy breasts near her areolae deformed to the shape of his mouth.

The man fed first on one sculpted tit and, afterward, nourished on the other. Once her breasts were well sucked, he moved his attention to her neck, light bites, long sucks, and licked her throat, ears, and chin. While his hands touched, caressed, squeezed, clutched, and pinched her body.

At last, his mouth found hers.

While all this happened, her mind erupted in conflicting emotions. Fright and worry gave way to curiosity and lasciviousness. Sexual want yielded to terror and back to lewd eagerness. Her body tingled in pleasure, and her stomach knotted with anxiety.

Forcing his tongue deep inside her mouth, she savored her own flavor. Their lips pressed together, tight, and she hankered for more. She coveted the contact and ached for his hands, mouth, and cock. Her deepest wish revealed her desire to merge with him and become one. For him to pour himself into her.

His hips pressed to hers, his tongue investigated her mouth, and his cock demanded entry into her opening. The weight of him crushed her; the heat of him blistered her flesh in torrid flashes, and an insatiable hankering nettled into her thoughts.

'Fuck me,' she tried to say, but words refused to form.

In a violent, fast thrust, he buried himself, pounding, one hard inch after another, until the whole of the invisible dick sunk inside her. Thwack, smack, slap. His thighs struck hers. The scent of him, odd, manly, filled her nostrils. While the faint, dissipating odor of her perfume mixed with his aroma and the pungent whiff of sex wafted with the redolence of the air.

He shoved himself into her, repeatedly, hard, fast, without mercy or concern.

Her fear died. Lust soared, while blood rushed through her as adrenaline exploded. Her breathing, ragged and raw, the squeaking and creaking of the bed, flesh hitting together, and the wet splish splash as their skin yanked away from one another, filled her ears.

A symphony provided by their fucking, and the music continued.

Her breasts and pussy swelled, her heart pounded, her skin crawled with yearning, and they made love in a frenzied passion. Throughout her dream, this camouflaged creature used her. Their congress's energy filled the air, mattress, wallpaper, and the couple's bodies. The raw, animalistic force overflowed them and filled the room's space with their essence. And the house drank the carnal intimacy like a fine wine. Remembering those with whom he'd made love in the past.

The walls yearned to join the fun. The eyes covering the walls widened, dilated, and longed for a better view.

The woman's eyes closed and opened, gapping around the room. She saw the house's reaction to their copulation. The woman perceived his weight and received his heat. His flesh sent her bare skin into a living electricity feeding on her lust. With her eyes open, try as they might, concentrating on where each blast of his breath came from, she couldn't see him. Her hands wandered about, trying in vain to touch him. She touched herself. And the odd sensation of four hands, hers and his, coaxed her to the edge.

Her pussy clutched the cock, holding, milking, wanting his cum. The prick exploded. Thick blasts of semen filled her, ran down his hidden cock, out of her, and spread over the sheets.

Darkness covered her. She slept, dreamless, exhausted, for hours.

Dawn's light washed over the woman through the open window. Her eyes opened, her body ached, and her private parts hurt. Standing, she went to the mirror and checked her body. Hickeys covered her neck, and bruises marked her breasts and told the horrific story. Viscous fluid seeped from inside her. Reaching down, she scooped some on her fingers and lifted the discharge to her nose. A heady, salty fragrance of semen, combined with her vaginal discharge, assailed her.

"Oh, my sweet lord. I wasn't dreaming."