0 comments/ 23461 views/ 0 favorites Insomnia By: lillithsouthern It was late and the house was asleep, all except her, of course. Being asleep at 3:00 a.m. might be an option for everyone else, but she had long ago accepted her nocturnal nature and had even come to love the long hours before dawn. This was her alone time. Her only complaint was when the insomnia kept her up for more than three consecutive nights. Seventy-two hours without sleep tended to depress her and, on those lonely nights she would often stand at the door staring endlessly into the dark, longing for company. This was just such a night. She had expected to be up tonight. The week had been particularly nerve-wracking and, to make matters worse, her husband's parents had flown in today for a four-day visit. Sleeping in her own bed was difficult enough; sleeping on the lumpy futon in the study was out of the question. So here she is, book forgotten in hand, cocoa steaming in the oversized mug on the end table, favorite soft blanket over her legs, staring out the window beside the recliner that was her husband's during the day but which became her prized possession in the middle of the night. Her eyes are large and unfocused as she roams a million miles away through the midnight mists. In this insomniac fugue state, she doesn't hear the bedroom door open and close softly, nor the footsteps padding quietly down the hall toward the den. The soft light from the den was both comforting and ominous as he crept down the hall, hoping he wouldn't trigger any squeaks in the unfamiliar floor. He had lain in bed wishing for sleep as long as he could and now just wanted to stretch his legs and find a way to occupy the time before morning, hopefully without waking the rest of the house. Though he was grateful for the den-light, he hoped it didn't signal unrest in the house, a sick child perhaps. Maybe someone had simply forgotten to turn the light off, or maybe it had been left on in case someone couldn't sleep, so they could find their way around in the dark. The door was partially closed and he stood listening outside for a long moment to make sure he wasn't going to barge in on some private moment. Hearing nothing, he tentatively pushed the door open halfway and stepped forward. He saw her at once and was able to accurately take stock of the situation. He hadn't known she was a fellow night dweller until now, but it was obvious to him at first sight. She appeared perfectly at ease, surrounded by all manner of comforts; not looking at all put out or surprised to be awake at this ungodly hour. And she had that blank, faraway stare he was so familiar with in himself. She senses his presence as she always senses other people, the strange charge of the air that she always associates with the particular sound a television makes when it's just been turned on, before the "volume" activates. Turning to see who has joined her, she smiles at him and motions for him to come on in. For a moment she feels completely ill-at-ease, but then realizes this is ridiculous. How many times, after all, has she wished for a companion at this hour- someone to talk with who understands how the mind wanders upon all manner of unusual circumstances when it has all the time in the world to wander. And now she has just such a companion, even if it is just for a few minutes. No matter that they'd never had the opportunity to become close and that she still feels nervous in his presence, here was a kindred spirit. He accepts her offer of cocoa and is pleasantly surprised that, even though the kitchen is in the next room, she manages to return a couple of minutes later with a small tray carrying cocoa and some cookies she had made earlier, all without making a sound. Just as he suspected, she was an old pro at staying up all night without disturbing anyone else. They find each other easy to talk to and conversation flows between them as it does between old friends, or complete strangers who find it shockingly easy to bare their souls to someone they don't know and will probably never see again in their lives. Their talk ranges from their shared insomnia, its origins and the failed remedies each has attempted, to books they had both read and movies they had both seen, music they both appreciated. It seems that within an hour they have discovered they have very much in common and each of them are surprised by the sameness they share. Looking back, she realizes the turning point of the night had been the book. They'd been talking about art and she'd gone to one of the well-stocked bookcases and extracted the book he'd said he would like to read. She had only read it recently and had loved it and had sat down beside him on the sofa to point out some of her favorite paintings to him. She's never been this near to him before and she finds herself very aware of that nearness as their legs touch, the spine of the book nestled between their thighs as they share their thoughts on this painting and that drawing. Their hands brush against each other while pointing out this detail or that background work. He had never really made up his mind about her until tonight, when he found himself liking her immensely. She was charming and funny and a joy to be around. She was perfect company. In fact, everything was fine until she had sat next to him with the book. He really didn't know how he had managed to continue the conversation after that point. That's when his mind had gone into hibernation and his body had taken over. What else could explain his near complete fixation with the feeling of her thigh against his? And the way she smelled, it was driving him to distraction. He felt he had been enveloped in a cloud of femininity when she had come near him. As she looks down at the book, he looks at her- the back of her bended head. Her hair is long and shining and he finds himself wondering what it would feel like to touch it. It looks so soft, alive. A tendril falls into her face as she turns her head and she reaches up absently to push it behind her ear. He pulls his eyes away from her face before she catches him looking at her. For the first time he realizes she is wearing a pear of silky pink pajamas, very feminine and very sexy, though not improper, although she's made them that way by leaving the top three buttons undone, along with the bottom two, only leaving the three in the middle fastened to cover her breasts. The bottoms rode low on her hips and had a drawstring top that was tied in a little bow. He can see her belly above the bottoms and he panics for a moment at the sight of her navel. He thinks he will surely die if he doesn't touch her there. God- he has to get out of here before he makes a complete fool of himself! She can feel the muscles of his thigh tensing as he leans forward to see the picture she points out. Soft cotton flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt is his wardrobe for tonight. His feet are bare. She's never noticed how well built he is. And he has nice hands, soft and delicate. The hands of a man who makes his living with his mind and not his back. Hands that would appreciate the soft skin of a woman…. What's she thinking? Time to get away from him before she does something stupid! But, for all the intentions they had of getting away from each other, each were just too selfish to actually move away. Long hours of wakefulness over the years had given them both a long time to accept their own sensualities, and each was basking in this private moment of forbidden fantasy. After all, the other person was sane and reasonable and neither of them are mind readers. The real problem arises when each of them, almost simultaneously, makes the unconscious decision to revel in this newfound passion. Thighs that were only brushing moments ago now push together. Hands that only met over the occasional illustration now seem to find something of great interest in each tiny detail (all the better to touch you with, my dear). And, with the brains fueling the bodies instead of the minds, the conversation falters. Neither of them cares, yet both note the change in the other and wonder if the other can sense the unholy thoughts they are having. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to catch her breath and snap out of this bizarre reverie. He took the opportunity to study her face closely. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks flushed. The deep breath she took accentuated her full breasts and flat stomach. He could see the points of her nipples underneath the silk of her top. He couldn't remember wanting someone this badly. She opened her eyes to his smoldering look and there's nothing but sex between them at that moment. No pretending it's not there. Their eyes speak volumes that anyone over the age of twelve would be able to read with the greatest of ease. Neither of them are virgins. She doesn't need for him to say anything because his eyes tell her that he'd gleefully kill for the pleasure of mounting her right now, to use her body the way it was obviously meant to be used. Just as easily, he can hear her tell him that his wish is her command and there is absolutely nothing she wouldn't do to have him inside of her at this moment. Their faces inches apart, their eyes burning with desire, their breath fast and hot, neither of them move. They are like deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car: they see the accident coming yet they are powerless to move out of danger. He moves toward her suddenly and his mouth covers hers, hard and rough. Her body is on fire and it seems to her as if she's become nothing but lips and tits and a throbbing cunt. She pushes herself against him, demanding the full attention of his hands, which he uses to grab her breasts, kneading them roughly, pinching the nipples through her top. Her groan is lost in his mouth as their tongues tease and search each others mouths. She's so hot. She can't remember ever being this hot. Pushing him back against the sofa, she moves in front of him and straddles his right knee, grinding her pussy against his thigh. He catches her full bottom lip between his teeth and he feels her body spasm as she comes against his leg. God, had he ever been with a woman who got off so easily? She must want this as badly as he does! As she continues to gyrate against his thigh, she runs her hand down his chest and his stomach, slowly, driving him crazy, until she reaches his rock-hard cock which she strokes through his pants, so softly he can barely even feel it. She's teasing him. He bucks his hips against her touch, wanting more, and she grabs him and pumps her hand down the length of the flannel-covered shaft. He almost comes in his pants, but she stops touching him at that exact moment and drops to her knees in front of him, opening his fly as she goes. He closes his eyes and feels her hot breath on the head of his cock. One hand grabs the base of his dick while the other hand massages his balls. Now she licks him like a lollipop, from base to head, over and over, running her long tongue around the top at the end of every lick. He opens his eyes and grabs her hair as she takes the entire length of his cock into her mouth and begins sucking him hard and fast, humming. The hand at the base of his cock works up and down in reverse rhythm with her bobbing head. The hand that had been massaging his swollen balls has now moved to cup one perfectly molded tit, squeezing as she tweaks the hard nipple through the fabric. The only thing that keeps him from blowing his load down her throat at that beautiful sight is his overwhelming desire to ram his cock into her pussy. He knows she wants him to because, while she's sucking him, she's thrusting her ass in the air as if she's already getting fucked. Reaching over her busy head (this is, hands down, the best blow job he'd ever had), he grabs the loose waistband of her pajama bottoms and pushes them down over her hips. She wriggles out of the bottoms and the soaked panties. At the site of her beautiful naked ass, he pushes her mouth away from his cock to keep from coming. Still it's a hard struggle and he only wins it by looking away from her completely and to the partially open door leading to the bedrooms which were full of people he couldn't bring himself to think of at this moment. Knowing how she wants it, she puts her knees on the sofa cushions and bends over the back, waiting for him to take his position behind her. She doesn't have to ask- he sees what she wants and gets behind her immediately. She knows she's going to come the second she feels his cock rub against her hot slit and she does just that, her pussy exploding around him as he thrusts it all he way to the hilt. She buries her face in a pillow to muffle the wail of pure pleasure as his big thick cock fills her up completely. His hands hold her firmly by the waist, pulling her into him over and over. Her pussy is so wet that he can feel her juices running down his balls as he fucks her. She's hot and tight and he's trying to figure out how to hold out longer when she looks back at him with pure lust burning in her eyes and tells him to fuck her hard- to hurt her with it. There's no fighting it now, so he rams her as hard as he can for the few remaining strokes he can make it before he shoots his hot come inside her box. Hearing his loud grunt of satisfaction, she comes again, milking even more come out of his cock with her pulsing cunt. She continues to move her hips softly until his shrinking manhood frees itself of her tight pussy. She reaches down, pulls on her bottoms, gives him a sexy smile and goes to bed. Each of them sleeps late the next morning- the best sleep either of them have had in years. Insomnia "Goodnight mom, goodnight dad," Sophie said as she kissed her parents goodnight, first mom then dad. "Goodnight sweetheart," her mom said, tears in her eyes. "I can't believe you graduated already!" "I know," she said, shaking her head. "It went so fast." "Baby, we're so proud of you," her dad said, smiling appraisingly. "We'll be sad to lose you next year when you go to college, but it's for the best." "I love you guys! Thank you for the party." "It was our pleasure," daddy said. "We could not be happier with you, Sophie baby. You've amazed me so much. You deserve everything you've earned. "Thank you daddy," she said. "I love you so much." "I love you, too, you don't know how much." "Well, I'm going to bed," Sophie said, hugging them again. "Goodnight." "Night, baby," her dad said. "Sleep well." Sophie walked upstairs into her bedroom smiling. She was 18 years old and finally done with high school, free from the tedium of classes at last, with a whole summer ahead of her to look forward to. Her parents had thrown her a nice party that day, and been the proud, kind people she always knew they were. Sophie undressed for bed, hanging her sundress up in the closet. She used the bathroom and dressed in her white cotton panties and a simple white nightdress before washing her face and combing her dark blonde hair. Smiling at herself in the mirror, Sophie found that she liked how she looked. In middle school she never thought she was pretty, but now she realized she was. A sweet, young face with gray eyes, tan limbs and an athletic build, she was definitely fortunate. Yawning, Sophie left her bathroom and climbed into bed. After saying her prayers, thanking God especially for her mom and dad, Sophie turned out her light and went to sleep. Only a few hours later, Sophie stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and finding the room to be still dark, resolved that something on the street must have woken her. She was about to go back to sleep when she heard a rustle. "Oh... oh yeah baby..." A man's voice moaned quietly through a whisper beside her. Sophie's heart thudded in her chest. There was a man in her room! Frightened to let the intruder know she was awake, she opened her eyes only a fraction of a slit and turned her head to look towards her desk chair. She saw a man's silhouette sitting there. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were not yet adjusted to the dark and she did not dare move an inch more. "Oh yes baby... Oh Sophie, daddy's gonna fuck you... daddy's gonna fuck you so good..." Sophie barely stifled a gasp. She recognized the voice; her father was in her bedroom! And... those things he was saying! She couldn't believe it! The kind, loving man from earlier that day, who had never so much as made an inappropriate comment, was saying those filthy words. She could not believe it. Her eyes began to slowly adjust to the dark, and she heard the soft sound of something brushing together. Her father continued to whisper under his breath, and she was positive she was not supposed to hear. Still, straining to catch each word, she listened out of terrible curiosity. "Oh, god... what a little slut you are... you're gonna be daddy's whore, yes you are... I'm gonna fuck your little virgin cunt you little tease. So innocent now, but daddy's gonna make you his fucktoy...." She strained her eyes, but lest found it too dark to see any more. She heard the brushing sound increase dramatically, accompanied now by a soft thwap, a low grunt, and then her father let out a sigh. "My little angel," he whispered, and then stood and walked out. Sophie lay there, unable to believe what she'd heard. Her father, her sweet father! She had never imagined him having thoughts like that, let alone about her. It was terrifying! ...And yet. She could deny that her heart beat wildly out of horror and a tiny bit of exhilaration. This was so forbidden, so new. She'd never heard of fathers speaking of their daughters this way. It was too much. She would keep it her secret, and never ask daddy about it. He would probably be embarrassed, the poor man. "Good morning daddy," Sophie said the next morning. "Where's mom?" "Still sleeping," he said, smiling and giving her a hug. Try as she might, she could not feel anything but fatherly love in it. "How did you sleep my dear?" She blushed. "Well," she lied. She had been unable to fall asleep for hours after daddy left, too worked up and confused. "You?" "Beautifully," he said with a smile. "Good good." She searched his face, but saw nothing new there. "Alright. Well, I'm going to go to work ok?" "Have a good day sweetie!" he said, smiling and kissing her on the cheek. Sophie grabbed her purse and her waitress' apron, a puzzled look on her face, before heading out the door. That night, she readied herself for bed in much the same way as the previous night, but now her breath ragged with anticipation. Her stomach twisted in excitement, but she was not sure if she was terrified or exhilarated. Last night could have been a dream, she knew. A filthy, horrible dream. But... there was something about the memories of the way she felt the blood rise to the surface of her skin, the sound of her father's voice, and her heart beating like a drum that led her to believe that it was in fact real. I'll see if it happens again tonight, she said. Then I'll know. She climbed into bed and shut her lamp off, and began to wait. Her parents went to bed much earlier than she did, but she had no idea what time her father had come in the night before. She waited for what seemed like hours before she drifted off to sleep. Her eyes opened in the morning light, and at first did not remember her plan. Then she cursed herself—she'd fallen asleep! Had her father not come, or had she just missed it? There was no way to tell. He had been so quiet the night before; it was a wonder she awoke at all. She rose from her bed and looked around the room for something amiss. The only thing she wondered about was her desk chair. It faced her bed, pulled away from her desk. Hadn't she vacuumed yesterday? She remembered putting it back under the desk. Still, that was no indication. She may have moved it without thinking. All day, her father behaved kindly and lovingly as usual. She and her parents went to a movie and dinner, and her father did not even seem to notice her tight miniskirt or tiny crop-top. If he had, he hid it very well. Her mother made a point to scold her for dressing so provocatively, so Sophie knew her outfit was suggestive, daddy just didn't mention it. How frustrating! She wasn't sure if she was dressing to tempt her father, or if she just wanted confirmation of his desire. The whole affair had seemed so dreamlike that she still did not know if it was real. "Goodnight Soph," her father said at nighttime. "Sleep well!" "I will," she lied, this time with a plan. Returning to her room, Sophie readied herself for bed, again with her white panties and a camisole. This time, she would not sleep through her father's visit, she would know for sure. Eagerly, she stood on her desk chair and unhooked her mobile from the ceiling. It had metal shapes and mirrors on it, and was as noisy as a wind chime when it was disturbed. It clanged and made chiming noises even as she carried it across the room. She hung it on the coatrack on the back of her door. True, it was misshapen and looked awful, but she would move it in the morning. That was not the point. When her father came in tonight, she would know. On her way to bed, she stopped at her window. It was a bright night with a full moon. Her window faced the backyard, which then faced the forest. Very private, but if she opened it the moonlight would flood right over to where her father would sit. After only a moment's hesitation, Sophie opened the curtains. Her preparations finished, Sophie climbed into bed and shut off her lamp. It had been a long day waiting tables, and she was out within five minutes. Chiming awoke her a few hours later. Her eyes snapped open, and her heart began to thud. Her door was opening. Quickly, she shoved the blankets off her so they bunched around her knees. Best see how far he would take this. She trusted her father. Maybe too much. "Fuck," her father whispered upon hearing the chimes. After a few painfully long seconds of silence, he resumed coming in and shutting the door as quietly as he could. He walked over to her bed. Through her eyes, open just a slit, she saw him look down at her. She tried her best to make her breathing even. "Soph? You awake?" he whispered. She did not respond, only lay there quietly, conscious of him standing over her. "My little girl," he whispered. So sweetly, he could have been checking on her like when she was little. "What a little whore, sleeping in just your panties," he murmured. "What a little slut at the movies, dressed asking me to fuck you." Or not. Her heart thundered. So this was true. Her father was coming in and watching her at night. It was the stuff of horror stories. But Sophie didn't want it to stop. She adored her father. How could she deny him something that made him happy? Maybe it was wrong, but she wanted to do everything for him. After all, he'd done that for her. "Do you touch your cunt little one?" he murmured. "Fuck yourself with your fingers? Daddy will do that for you." She heard the sound of the desk chair pull out, the wheels whispering against the soft plush carpet. Opening her eyes a slit again, she was shocked when her father lowered his boxers, revealing the largest erection she had ever seen. True, she'd never seen one live, but one day she'd curiously looked up penises on Google, unaware of what men looked like naked. She'd been terrified, and shut the window quickly. Daddy's erection terrified her too, but she also felt something deep within her stir. It bounced a bit, twitching when he wrapped his hand around it. It must have been seven or eight inches around. He sat down in his chair, his cock in his hand. "Suck daddy, you slut, suck me... take it down your throat... you love it don't you... You pretend to be so innocent, don't lie to me. I know you are wet; your panties were soaked in the laundry today. I saw how you showed your body off tonight..." She watched, transfixed, as daddy stroked his cock, his hand brushing against his erection, explaining the brushing noise from the first night. He alternated between long, slow strokes, rough and hard, and short tiny jerks around the head of him. "Oh... oh..." his voice became more strained as his excitement grew. "Baby you're daddy's little fucktoy. I'm gonna fuck your little virgin hole, make you scream. I'll destroy that little cunt, I'll pound you like the whore you are. Daddy's whore... all for daddy. I'll ruin you for everyone else, make you my slave, yeah baby..." Sophie could no longer breath, her father's words paralyzing her. He doubled his efforts on his manhood, and she heard the results as he pretended his hands were her pussy. Unable to control it, she dreaded when she felt moisture pool between her legs at her father's brutal words. She could not reconcile the gentle figure with the sex-crazed fiend next to her, but her body reacted anyway. She was so innocent that the thought of being taken like that was violently frightening, but also arousing as hell. Her father, who taught her how to ride a bike, wanted to pound into her cunt. It shouldn't be appealing. It shouldn't. Her sex, dripping, had other ideas. Moved by her desire, and pressed on by her father's, she moaned, wishing to push his words on, to tantalize her more. "Oh Sophie," her father groaned, "You'll beg for daddy. You'll love when I fuck you, I can tell... I know you'll grow to love it my little whore, I know you'll beg for me..." Sophie sighed again, spreading her legs on the bed. "Spread your legs for me, yes," her said, his breathing erratic as his hand pounded against his cock. "I can see your pussy lips against your panties, yes, daddy's cunt, it's all for me... Oh God..." He grunted and groaned as he stroked himself violently. She moaned again, running a hand down her body, loving how her father grunted again watching her. She rested her hand just over her clit. It was throbbing, but she resisted pleasuring herself; her father could not know she was awake. The bed bowed with the weight of her father, and Sophie began to panic. Daddy was kneeling on top of her, a dark shape looming above her and he watched her and jerked himself. She could feel the heat of his body. Her breathing became erratic, and though she was scared of what he would do to her she was more terrified that he would discover she was awake. A part of her said to scream, to push him away. Daddy loved her; he would never go to far. She believed. Sophie knew that if she wanted him to stop, she would have screamed. Hating herself for it, she remained still, wondering what came next. "Ooh... oh Sophie," her father moaned, the thwap of his hand on his cock so fast now. "I'll fuck you someday you little tease. Oh- oh!" he cried out loudly, too loudly. Suddenly, she was hit with something wet in her face. She twitched, but was soon hit with another spray, and another, and another. It was hot and felt thick, but she dared not touch it. "Uhh... oh... oh yeah baby...." Her father continued to moan as he shot his load onto her face and her hair and neck, covering her with his cum. "Uh... Sophie..." he grunted as shot after shot landed on his daughter, before he groaned and sighed contentedly. She heard him laugh. "My baby's all dressed up. You look so pretty in daddy's cum. Wait..." She heard him fumble with something on the floor—his pants. He took out his cell phone and turned it on. The light lit up his face and Sophie saw her father completely illuminated, looking the same as she'd seen him every day of her life, only with beads of sweat on his forehead. It unnerved and excited her that this man, this mystery, had so much desire for it. She closed her eyes as her father took pictures of her covered in his load. "What a good girl," he whispered so quietly. "Daddy was risky tonight... Fuck." His real tone of voice, the reasonable father she knew, came back. "Fuck, Tom, what did you do? What if she wakes up...? Fuck!" Hurriedly, he grabbed his clothing and cell phone and ran out of her room, leaving Sophie in her bed, covered in her father's cum. Insomnia 2 a.m. She should be asleep. 2 a.m. A final exam in a mere seven hours. Her last final exam to be exact. And then she'd be free. Only she couldn't sleep. She wandered through the living room, and saw his light was still on. Hrm, he can't sleep either huh? Might as well head over. Can't hurt. She knocked, softly, just in case he had gone to bed and forgot to turn the lights off. He answered the door too quickly. Like he'd been waiting. He stood there, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and no shirt, and for a moment she could only stare. Bored, can't sleep, was all she said once she found her tongue. When he smiled his eyes laughed at her. Me too, he said, but I'm just about to put a movie in - wanna hang out? Maybe this will actually be interesting, she thought, and there's no better way to get tired enough to sleep a bit. She grinned and moved over to the couch. While he put the movie in, she admired his body as it moved. The sweats hid his strong legs and firm butt, but she'd seen them before and her imagination could remind her. His arms were deeply tanned and, though not muscle-bound, he kept himself in good shape. She knew what that body was capable of, and that thought made her squirm. He came back to the couch and pulled her over next to him. But when the opening credits started to roll she sighed. 2001. She hated this movie. Well she didn't actually hate it; she'd never seen it. She kept falling asleep before they got to the moon. I guess he is being nice, he knows I have a final tomorrow and I should get some sleep. She almost resolved herself to sleeping when he also started softly running his fingers through her hair. Well I didn't come over here to sleep, she decided. Time to take matters into my own hands. She sat up and turned to face him. Yes? he asked, Do you need something? She only grinned. Really, that should have been his warning, but he was distracted. She swung one leg over his lap, so she was straddling him, and leaned in to kiss him. No softness and sweetness here. Her lips closed over his, and her tongue invaded his mouth. To his credit, after the initial surprise, he responded with as much energy. His arms wrapped around her and his hands tangled in her hair. He pulled her head back and bit her throat. He started to move his mouth down to her breasts when she pulled away. Nope, this is my game, she said with an evil grin. And slowly slid off his lap to the floor. As she slid down, she took hold of his waistband and tugged. His hips lifted and the sweats and his underwear slid down with her. She grinned again and he tensed when she leaned towards him. Her warm lips suckled his nipple, and as she pulled away, she nipped him with her teeth. She was a fair girl, and his other nipple got a similar treatment. Instead of moving away however, he saw her pink tongue as she traced his stomach down to his belly button. She kept moving, but he raised his hips to meet her and she pulled away, laughing. He then felt her tongue on the inside of his thigh, she licked and nibbled and slowly moved her way back up. This time, the boy was bright enough not to move. And when she reached his balls she didn't stop, but slowly took each one in her mouth and pulled gently. She released them and licked slowly up his shaft - when she reached the head she covered it with her mouth and swirled her tongue around. When she released his cock she heard him whimper and looked up at his face. Breathe, she grinned. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, and asked You're not going to stop are you? No, she said, not quite yet. And leaned her head back down. She could feel his body tense, waiting for her touch. So she didn't. She just let her hot breath tease him for a while. When he groaned softly she took his head into her mouth again, and the groan ended with a sharp intake of breath. She moved slowly down his cock, relaxing her throat until she had all of him in her mouth. As she moved her mouth up and down, one hand reached up to fill the space left by her mouth. Soon, she had both hand and mouth in unison and his hands had reached down to tangle in her hair. This only made her move faster, until his hips were pumping in unison with her. He tried to say something, and pulled her head back, but she refused to move and just increased her pace. Once he realized she wasn't letting go, he wrapped his hands tighter and held on. Just as he felt himself about to come, she slowed. Painfully slow, she took time at the top of his cock to run her tongue around the head, and at the bottom to give an extra tug. He growled and she laughed to herself. But she didn't want to torture him too much, and sped up her pace, until she felt him tense, and she moaned as his cum filled her mouth. She swallowed and felt him jerk again in response. Only when she was certain he was done did she release him and crawled back up on the couch. Thank you dear, I needed that, she laughed. He could only grin back and wonder what he'd done to get so lucky. Insomnia She was having a hard time sleeping. She tossed and turned again, then looked at the clock, 2:30 in the morning. Would she ever fall asleep? Next to her her husband suddenly turned over, still asleep. In his sleep he put his arms around her and held her tightly to him. She was jealous of him, but it felt good to be held close. She loved the way he held her close even in his sleep. As she relaxed against him and tried to sleep, she slowly grew conscious of his penis brushing against her leg. She reached down under the sheets and touched it. She liked the feel of it when it was small. Before it grew large it was so velvety smooth. She wrapped her hands around it and concentrated on its unique feel. As she did so she remembered a request her husband had once asked. Once when she complained to him about her insomnia, he had told her that she should wake him up to make love next time, for making love always relaxed him enough to sleep. He said that he wanted to be there for her and if she needed him, he wanted to do all he could for her. She caught her breath realizing that she was starting to get wet between her legs just thinking about it and she quickly made up her mind that tonight was a good night to fulfill his request. She let go of his cock for a minute and began tracing its outline against her palm. It responded quickly and began to grow longer and harder. This was the part she really loved. She loved to feel of his cock growing in her hand. She liked to think that it was her touch that was making him respond so. Then she softly squeezed the head of his cock and felt a drop of pre-cum appear. Her pussy was getting even wetter. She wrapped her hand again around his now stiff cock and began to stroke him up and down. Slowly at first, then faster as she felt the hardness. He wasn't awake yet. Her husband had always been a hard sleeper, but she was surprised that he could be so hard while dozing. It was a hot summer night so she drew the sheet back and looked at her handiwork. His cock was gorgeous when it was hard. She loved the way the veins stood out and it seemed to throb. Suddenly she had the urge to kiss his cock. She leaned low over him and kissed him softly on the head. It responded with a jerk, then was still again. She kissed him again and got the same response. She was wide awake and enjoying it now. She held on to his cock with one hand and wrapped her lips around the head fully. It responded with another jerk, then seemed to be even more erect, if that was possible. Her other hand was down between her legs. She could feel her moisture. She was really quite slippery - the way her husband loved it. She inserted a finger and felt her warmth. She withdrew it to trace the outline of her clitoris, her love pearl as her husband loved to call it when he kissed it. It was beginning to throb just like the cock in her mouth. She circled his cock with her tongue, then let it slip out of her mouth. She held it with her hand for a moment without moving it. She just felt it throb and felt how it made her body respond. She loved this man so much. They had had 6 years of a wonderful marriage together. She reinserted her finger into her pussy and this time rubbed her entire pussy mouth. She was definetly wet enough, why wasn't he waking up? Just then he rolled over. He was still asleep, but he turned on to his back thrusting his cock skyward with the powerful erection. She sat up and looked at his beautiful body. The moonlight shown through the window and lit him up perfectly. His chest was muscular from all of his hiking. His hair was long. His eyes, which she loved were shut and she could not see their blueness, but she knew they were there and imagined him looking at her with that look of desire he often had in them in the evenings. Her desire was strong now as she looked at his erect cock in the moonlight. Suddenly she wondered, did she dare? He was hard, he was on his back. His cock thrust in the air the way it did when she usually mounted him. Could she climb on top of him without waking him? She wondered for a moment more, then slowly straddled his body. She was looking down at him now still admiring his body. She held on to his cock with both hands and stroked him slowly for a minute more. Then she pulled herself up on her knees and holding his cock with her hand, rubbed her pussy juices all over its head. When it began to slide into her on its own, she knew it was time. She pushed just the head of it inside and felt it throb against and inside of her. She loved this part. Slowly, as slowly as she could she let herself down on to his piston. When he was all the way inside of her she sighed. It felt so good to have him there. At the same time his eyes opened. He looked up at her in surprise, but quickly a smile came to his face. He said simply, "Come here my darling." She leaned over to kiss him, feeling him move inside of her. As their lips locked in a tight embrace, he began pumping himself in and out of her. At first he started slow, but as the moisture from their bodies lubricated his cock and her pussy, he started going faster. She sat up on him to slow him down and he smiled. He reached up to cup her breast with her hand and felt its roundness. Her nipple was hard and erect. She smiled and leaned over where he could draw it into his mouth. When he did she gasped. It felt wonderful. It always did with him. As she leaned over the momentum of his thrusts increased, but only slightly. It was clear he was enjoying going slow now as well. She sat up again where he could see her. He looked up at his adorable wife, her skin shining with its light perspiration from their labor and without thinking blurted out, "I love you. Oh, oh, fuccck me morrre." As she rocked herself on him, she felt the familiar throb of his cock and knew he was about to come. As she felt him start to come, she felt the waves of pleasure begin in her body as well. Suddenly neither of them could hold themselves back any longer and with moans of ecstasy they came together. "I love you. I love you so much." "I love you too." "Thank you for waking me to help you." "Oh, the pleasure was all mine." He grinned and rolled her over to kiss her again. Five minutes later they were both sound asleep.