Tonight, as I fall asleep with a hand between my legs, cupping myself over my knickers, period horn will mean I dream about sex. Last night I dreamed about puppy play – something I feel I’m now going to have to explore my thoughts on – and spanking, but tonight my thoughts are filled with darker fantasies. What follows is a piece of erotica featuring a fluid-bonded couple and the half-asleep sex they have.
There are lots of kinds of sex we can have while half-asleep.
There’s the sex we have late at night when I love you, and I’ve missed you touches turn into fucking where he holds me close. It sex makes me feel safe and protected and loved, with gentle kisses that quickly turn into him encouraging me to ease back on to his cock. He pulls out to come on my arse, and rubs the spunk into my butt. We fall asleep still spooning, his come still cooling on my skin.
There’s the sex we have when I wake up from nightmares, when I’m shaking with fear and he’s only half awake himself. He may not be fully conscious, but he knows what I need and the haze of sleep doesn’t stop him. Pulling me close and holding me tight. Squeezing my tits and lightly smacking my cunt, while his fingers find my clit and begin to tease me towards an orgasm. Reminding me that I am his and I am loved, getting through to me in a way that when I’m shivering and crying words cannot.
There’s the half-asleep sex we have on lazy mornings, when I wake to find a half-hard cock pressing against me, and take great delight in wriggling back into it, so soon it is fully hard and ready to fuck me. This kind of sex is usually followed by one of us getting up to make tea, and us falling asleep before we can drink it. There will be tea when we wake up later in the day, with sun streaming through the curtains, when we argue over who’s turn it is to get up and put the kettle on and don’t give a fuck about getting biscuit crumbs on the sheets. (They’re covered in lube and come anyway, so who cares about digestives crumbs?)
Then there’s my favourite kind of half-asleep sex.
It’s half-asleep fucking that makes my cunt wet. It’s half-asleep fucking that makes me feel dirty and used. It’s the half-asleep fucking that is definitely fucking, not sex. He doesn’t kiss me softly or hold me gently, he calls me his little slut and uses me like that’s what I am. We’ve negotiated it carefully, and I’ve given my consent to being woken up at any hour of the night for him to use his obedient fuck-toy. Taking me roughly, rolling on top of me and pinning me down. Ignoring my poor, desperate clit and whispering filth in my ear.
Sometimes he rolls me over and forces my face into the pillow so he can tug my hips up and fuck me from behind, pushing my neck down so I am choking and gasping for breath when he lets me escape from the pillows. There are spanks and growled commands when I don’t stay still. If you can’t hold that position, slut, I’m not going to be able to come. I don’t care how tired you are – you need to be a good little girl for me. I try to be a good girl, but when he comes inside me he falls back asleep while I’m still squirming in half-asleep desperation – but he leaves a firm hand on my arse or tits, claiming me and making sure I don’t sleepily jerk myself to a climax.
There’s something that ties all of these together, and that is the wonderful moment when I reach down and feel his spunk dripping out of me. It’s that moment that I remember, and I smile into the darkness. I’m still half-asleep, but the memory of the half-asleep sex is sweet.
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Image sourced through Pixabay.