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Nightmare

By: tmj



Have you ever done anything in real life that when you went to sleep your mind twisted circumstances around to scare the hell out of you...

They watch you sleep peacefully, the quiet in the house and the breeze blowing gently through the open windows. They smile as your nipples tighten from the cool air, evil sexy smiles...

You are awaken suddenly by a heavy weight on your chest, your eyes fly open and strong hands grab and hold your arms tight. You start fighting kicking your legs and trying desperately to get your arms free. You feel someone grabbing your legs, roughly pulling them wide open. You feel a large man getting between your open legs, his hips and thighs rubbing against you and he gets closer and closer to you. You feel his hands and other hands holding down your hips and legs. More hands grab your arms holding them above your head, you see now there are 3 very large men holding you down.

They watch you silently waiting for the screaming and pleading. They see the fear in your eyes and feel your body tremble beneath them. They have such a lovely surprise for you. The man on your chest leans down whispering teasing words to you, making your skin chill. Telling you how they are going to make you feel something so good, something you've never experienced before. You cant help the tears falling down your face now, and the whimpering, so close to pleading. He teases you with his tongue, rubbing it over your ear as he whispers and down your wet cheeks, soft kisses on your slender neck. You cant help how your body reacts to this warm soft teasing. You can feel your pussy getting wet and try to close your legs. You hear someone's soft laugh and a finger slide over your wet pussy. You cant help it any longer you open your mouth to beg and plead...scream...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You suddenly feel hands grab your face, forcing your mouth wide open. You taste metal in your mouth. Someone pulling your head back by your hair, your body twisting and fighting. Strong hands are holding your mouth open, your jaw hurts from the force. Panic fills your eyes and you stop moving completely, you feel something clamp down hard on your tongue. They are pulling your tongue out, you are terrified as you see what he has in his hand...noooooooooooooooo oh god nooooooooo

Your body jerks hard as he starts pushing it in your tongue, as the pain builds and builds you feel a hard large cock at your pussy, tears running down your face, he rams fully burying his thick hard cock inside your pussy. You scream as you feel it pass through your tongue and his cock hitting you deep inside, he slides back out, you feel the head of his cock rubbing at your swollen pussy lips, he is pushing in just an inch or so and back out. You feel your tongue being released and watch as he leans down and kisses you gently tasting the little bit of blood in your mouth. You moan load as you feel the huge cock slam you again and again, he is bruising your hips fucking you so hard and fast, jerking your body with each thrust. You are screaming from the pain in your mouth and the deep painful fucking.

Your body jerks upright...you look around at the beautiful sunlight in your bedroom, sitting breathing hard in your bedroom all alone. You fall back in bed laughing at yourself for being scared from a silly nightmare. You suddenly stop feeling something sore and strange on your tongue...

Nightmare



It was already dark when Shirley'd finished work. She had had to see to a couple of patients in a remoter part of town, far from any public transport, and she walked fast to get back to the better-lit, more familiar parts to go and find a bus. She loved nursing, but she didn't exactly care for these areas; the sooner she was out of them again, the better. 

She had had a violent quarrel with Jake, her boyfriend, the day before. He'd wanted to fuck her ass, and she hadn't wanted him to, and they'd said things they didn't really mean and eventually said they never wanted to see each other for as long as they lived. But when she was lying in bed, crying, he'd called her and apologised and eventually they'd made up. He would come over to her place by ten and she was looking forward to seeing him again in glad anticipation. She'd dressed for the occasion in a light summer dress and nice underwear, and she walked even faster as she thought of him.

She didn't like this part at all. It was quite a distance to the better part of town. There were narrow streets with old houses, and the population seemed harsh and aggressive. There were fewer streetlights than she would have liked, and she always felt somewhat ill at ease. 

When she rounded a corner she saw a group of louts loitering at the other end of the block. She didn't want to walk past them so she diverted her path and tried to find a different route.

She suddenly sensed someone was looking at her closely. She stepped up her pace a little. Her footsteps echoed against the walls of the narrow street, and she got the impression that they were a little out of synch. Was she being followed? She glanced over her shoulder and saw a dark shadow some yards behind her. It didn't stop but it seemed to gain on her. It made her back go all wet with perspiration; cold sweat, fear. She walked even faster and the sound of her high heels rattled back to her. 

Overhead in the darkness there were little light patches in the clouds, now and then. It had been a hot day and thunder had been threatening since the middle of the afternoon. With a little bad luck she would get wet. 

She heard more footsteps following her. She anxiously looked over her shoulder again, and saw to her dismay that there were now at least five figures following her. She could run for it - but she wasn't a good runner, and she would only exhaust herself, so she just kept on walking fast. The steps she heard grew louder, and they seemed to get closer. She hunched her shoulders and clutched her bag under her right arm.

Two of the dark shapes came abreast with her; then they passed her and walked just in front of her, falling in with her pace. They were tall and she couldn't really make out their faces. They didn't look at her; they just escorted her. 

There were even more of them now, she thought. She felt their eyes on her, and she felt mortally afraid. Her heart beat in her throat, and she couldn't have yelled out for the lump in her throat. She kept her eyes in front of her and assessed the distance she'd still have to go to reach safety - and then there was an immense flash of lightning followed by thunder almost at the very same time. Her heart skipped a beat and all lights went out. 

Notwithstanding her fright she kept on walking. Overhead there was an intermittent rumble with irregular bouts of lightning, and she could vaguely see her way now and then. 

Then something made her hair stand on end - the footsteps seemed to close in around her! She pressed her arms close against her body in defence. The little hairs in the nape of her neck bristled, and she felt her entire body tense. They were so close now she could smell them - a mixture of aftershave, body lotion and sweat. 

She felt terrified. She had heard too many stories of women ending up with their throats slit, and she had even seen one once on a mortuary slab in the hospital where she'd done her training. 

Something touched her left hip, the her right one, too - they had come so close to her she could feel their thighs press against hers. Now she really tried to run - but the backs of the two shapes that walked just in front of her blocked her path. 

They actually slowed down a bit. She felt herself surrounded so closely that at least four bodies touched hers, two shoulders, two hips... they kept on walking, forcing her to walk into the direction they had in mind. 

"Please," she croaked, "let me go!"

The thunder rumbled threateningly overhead. It was not half as threatening, though, as the silence of the dark figures of her abductors; they just walked her on, and said nothing. They might have been deaf for all she knew. 

They went into the poorer part of the area, a part even worse than the area where she'd been working that evening. She didn't know her way there at all; but there was nothing for it but walking along, shivering and weak-kneed, on those bloody heels, too - her feet started to hurt and her arms and shoulders were stiff and sore with the tension in her limbs.

Some one touched her. She felt a hand on her bottom. It just sat there for some time; she tried to feel behind her and push it away, but she felt a big hand clamp down on her wrist and just move it a little. It hurt so much she was afraid it would break and gave up the attempt.

The hand lifted her dress and pushed her panties down far enough to expose her bottom to the night air. Then it made free between her ass cheeks. She felt a digit of one of the fingers enter her anus. She tried to clamp her buttocks together but the hand pinched her cheeks so hard it hurt. 

She realised she was completely at these people's mercy; the one good thing that could happen was for someone else to appear. She had to walk on now, and the finger up her ass caused acute discomfort. Another hand came down her backside, too. The finger retracted; the other hand shoved something up her alimentary canal. It was cold and hard and filled her ass completely. It made walking very difficult; but she had to keep on going. 

The fury of the thunder increased, and there was more and more lightning and her surroundings became visible. She saw that they were in a part that consisted mainly of warehouses and small, disreputably-looking shops. There was on much bigger house in among the small businesses. It had a nearly blank wall and a big, old door, and just when she thought they were to pass it the door opened and a girl dressed in a furry white coat came out and took her hand and pulled Shirley her way. 

"Come in! Quick!" she said.

She did so immediately, in the expectation that she would get rid of her abductors that way. But they walked into the house together with her, and she realised it had all been planned beforehand. She was marched through a corridor and up a flight of stairs, following the girl who told them where to go, in pitch darkness, and then into a room that was dimly lit by one single candle surrounded by a thick, deep red shade, so that she could only just make out the room and its contents. 

"Welcome," the girl said with a smirk. She let the white coat slide down her shoulders. She was practically naked under it, and she stepped up to Shirley and took her head in her arms. "Hmm, a pretty girl," she said. She put her thumbs in the corners of Shirley's mouth and pressed it open; then she put her mouth on Shirley's and stuck her tongue into her mouth. She started wriggling her breasts against her, and Shirley smelled her perfume and the smell of sex. While she rubbed up Shirley's body the girl put a blindfold over her yes. She wanted to push the girl away, but some of the men took her wrists and held her arms straight down her sides. One of them took her bag and unzipped her dress. They shoved it down her body, first one shoulder, then the other, and made it slide to the floor. 

Once her dress was gone the girl took her breasts from the cups of her bra. She stroked them lovingly for a little while before viciously pinching her nipples. "Slut!" she said. Then she continued kissing her. 

Behind her someone pulled her panties down her legs. They made her step out of them; then the girl let go of her and she was led out of the room. She was made to climb another low flight of stairs, and they forced her to lie down on something. A bed? A sofa? She didn't know. She did sense she was in a different room; there were muffled voices and various sounds she couldn't make out. 

She was left to herself for some time. then she noticed through her blindfold that there was a lot of light in the room; the electricity must have gone on again. 

At the same time she heard the sound of curtains being drawn apart and there was a small ripple of applause. Perhaps she was up on a stage? They told her to kneel on all fours. She didn't react at first, but someone struck her a blow across the face that made her jump to it. 

She felt warm hands on her ass and something touched her cheek. The smell of a man's sex reached her nostrils. Oh no, she thought. Oh no!

They pried her mouth open again, like the girl had done, and she felt a cock enter her mouth, and practically at the same time someone pushed his member up her pussy. She was so dry and tense that it hurt badly. They must have noticed for she felt them apply a generous amount of oil. The slickened cock began to fuck her mercilessly; but she couldn't cry out for the cock in her mouth. The other man took her face in is hands and used her mouth like just another cunt; he slammed in and out, making her gag. 

Shirley didn't mind giving head, provided she could have the initiative and she liked the recipient. It could be nice and sweet. But this - anonymous with people she didn't know and couldn't even see - she didn't even know where she was. She felt the flange of the but plug between her ass cheeks. As they were moved against it by the force of the cock moving in and out of her pussy she felt the inside of her crack go raw.

Her breasts swung back and forth with the impact of the motions behind her, and she had to steady herself with her hands. Now and then she was slapped across her buttocks, hard and stinging; she thought she must look quite red. Her face felt red, too - what if she really was on a stage? Oh, the shame! Hopefully there wan no one who knew her there - if there was she could die!

The men had a lot of stamina; it was a long time before she felt the man in her pussy erupt. He seemed to flood her with sperm, in a series of spurts she felt hit her cervix. She'd never felt so glad of being on the pill before; suppose she weren't?

He kept on pounding into her until he went limp; then he flopped out of her. 

Her other assailant experimentally slapped her cheek once or twice; then he ordered her to use her tongue. She did, meekly; she didn't want to be hit again, and she tried to make the man come. When he did she almost choked on his ejaculate; she had to swallow hard and she hated the feeling of surplus cum dribbling down her lower jaw. He made her lick him clean; then he went away.

She waited for some time, and then she asked if she could sit up. She heard someone sniff disdainfully. 

"No, bitch, just stay as you are," a female voice said. "We'll tell you what to do in our own sweet time."

She felt so humiliated, kneeling there with her fanny exposed and the rubber end of the but plug for anyone to see... Her arms were getting sore from her own weight and her knees started to shake. 

Just when she thought she would collapse she was yanked up. She stood a little uncertainly on shaking legs, held up by hard hands gripping her arms too tight. Then she was told to sit down and spread her legs. She was happy to sit down; she hated having to comply spreading her legs, but she'd found out the hard way that she'd better.

Someone knelt behind her and removed her blindfold. She saw that she was on a stage indeed, on a kind of bed; she could see a small audience looking at her. The girl that had opened the door sat on somebody's knees with her back to the stage. She obviously had his cock in her pussy and was riding him hard. One or two of the men had their cocks out and sat stroking themselves. 

The person behind her took her wrists and brought them close together; then she felt she was handcuffed. From the wings another man came on stage. He was dark and tall, and very well-hung. He walked to the front of the bed; he took her pussy between his fingers and squeezed it together, exerting special pressure on her clitoris. He had very long fingers and a shining scar on the back of his hand. Even though he was only half hard she thought he'd be too big for her to accommodate, but he just got up and knelt astride her face, dangling his cock in front of her eyes. 

She tried to look away. The girl had got off the man she had been fucking. He sat bound to his chair, with a ball gag in his mouth; to her horror she recognised her boyfriend. He looked at her horrified. The girl stood next to him; she'd made a ring of her thumb and index finger round his cock and jerked him off unceremoniously. 

The man over her slapped her face with his stiffening cock a couple of times. Just before he pressed the tip against her lips she saw Jake come, erupting all over himself; there was a strand of cum in his hair.

The circumference of the black cock in her mouth was so big that she had to strain to have her mouth around it, and it smelled strong. She didn't like the smell at all; and he fucked her mouth as if she were a plastic doll, without any consideration for her whatsoever. 

She felt another man lift her bottom and pull out the plug; then she was fed his cock into her ass. She'd never had a cock up her ass before and she lay being used with tears in her eyes. It hurt. It really hurt. The man broke into a steady rhythm; she tried to relax he muscles and grant him an easy passage. It did help, but just a little.

After some minutes the man who was fucking her throat got up, and the one in her ass withdrew. He shoved her aside, and stretched himself on the bed; the she was lifted over him and forced down over his cock again. It hurt a little less, but she didn't like the sensation one bit. He pulled her towards her, and the black man squeezed her pussy again. He rubbed the sides up and down and then he bent over and started licking her pussy. She hated to admit it but he was good at it; he knew exactly where it felt good, and it didn't take him too long to make her come. She bit her lip not to cry out.

Then he bend down over her and forced his cock between her pussy lips. He was far too big for comfort; and the feeling of the two cocks rubbing against each other through the thin partition was disturbing to say the least. 

One of the members of the audience was helped up on the stage. He knelt on the bed next to her and put his cock into her mouth.

"Suck me like the good little whore you are," he said before he, too, started to fuck her mouth.

She couldn't do anything. Her hands were cuffed and there were big strong men all around; the only one she knew, the only one who would see her as a human being and treat her accordingly sat strapped to a chair; and, she thought, chances are he won't have anything to do with me if I get out of here ever again. 

When the black man's cock started to palpitate he withdrew from her pussy; he jumped off the stage and came all over her boyfriend's face. Oh, poor Jake, she thought. How awful.

It didn't bring her any respite, though -- the members of the audience took turns in filling her various holes without any loss of time. she received she never knew how many loads of cum, in her mouth, her ass, her cunt or just on her face or breasts...

She must have passed out. When she came to, she was lying in the dark, dressed in a nightdress. Her ass hurt, and there was the taste of sperm on her tongue. She heard someone breathing next to her. When she opened her eyes she saw a familiar ceiling; and her boyfriend lay sleeping peacefully next to her. 

She felt between her ass cheeks. The skin was a little raw. But in the light of the thunderstorm she could see her dress on the back of her chair, and her underwear, all of it, on top. Her bag stood next to it on the floor. She felt her pussy, and there was some moisture running out of it. It slowly ran between her ass cheeks, and she felt rather sticky there. 

So what had happened? The square of the window got lit by distant flashes of lightning now and again; and when she looked at her boyfriend she saw a stiff, small lock of hair standing up.

She lay back, wondered once more and went back to sleep.



Nightmare



In the dark I struggled to free myself. I kept crying out – screaming – "No… no…please…don't do this to me…let me go…please."

Strong hands held me and my struggles were useless against them. I could not see their faces in the dark, and their voices were indistinguishable murmurs. I only felt hands forcing my arms above my head and holding my ankles.

I had managed to lock my legs together, but it was futile. Whoever my assailants were, they made no effort to stifle my screams, and so I gave out with a piercing shriek as I felt my legs forced apart to expose my sex organ.

A body came over me and a hard pulsating penis probed for the entrance to my vagina. "Please…don't please…"

I woke with a start, sweating, gasping and shaking all over. My fingers were pressing against my vagina. Every night now I had my nightmare of being raped by unidentifiable men…held by unseen hands, always to wake up as a penis was about to be thrust into me, and always it was my own fingers that were being inserted.

It had not been like that at first, not for some time after Clive, my husband, had been killed in a motor car accident, Clive, my friend, companion, lover and other half.

At first it was Clive who came to me in the night. He would come to me in and, like the rapists, just as he was about to enter me, I would awake, not screaming and pleading for it to stop, but weeping, begging Clive not to leave me.

At other times I would dream I heard him knocking at the front door, and it was such a vivid dream I woke up and went racing to the door calling out, "Wait, Clive, wait my love, I'm coming darling." Of course, when I opened the door, there was no one there.

In time he came into my dreams no more, and for a while I slept in peace. Then began the awful dream of being raped. At first it was not every night. It would happen once or twice a week, but over a period of about three months it took place more and more until it became almost a nightly ritual.

At first Edmund my son responded to my cries and screams, coming into my bedroom to wake me up and asking what was the matter and was I all right. 

Dear loving Edmund, the pride and joy of Clive and me. We had always seen him as a wonderful gift for our marriage, the fruit of our love. Even in those difficult teenage years he had never, as some teenagers do, sought to reject us. Perhaps that was because we somehow got it right in relation to gradually letting him go – letting him take more and more responsibility for his own life.

Of course, Edmund had enjoyed the favours of some of the girls at high school. The girls had been the sort who prefer the gentler male rather than the noisy macho types. Clive and I did get worried at one point when we learned that Edmund was enjoying the favours of a widow more than twice his age. After some consideration however, we agreed that the relationship, if it did not get too involved, would probably be good for Edmund.

As Clive commented, "She seems a decent sort of woman, and will probably teach him how to please his partner or wife later on." 

Before Clive and I met I suspected there had been an older woman in his life. I never asked and he never told me, but even if he had, I would not have had grounds for getting on my high horse, as I had been initiated by a man much older than I. As a result, Clive and I had been able to please each other almost from our first night together.

I had told Edmund when he came to investigate my screams that I was just having a bad dream, without telling him what the dream was. I told him not to worry and to go back to sleep, as he had to get up early in the morning to get to work. He looked doubtful but I urged him, "Back to bed, darling."

After that he did not come to wake me again, but he did raise the matter with me as the nightmare began to arrive night after night. "Shouldn't you see the doctor or somebody?" he asked.

I at first declined the suggestion. I had more than an inkling of what the problem was. At forty I was still a very sexually potent woman. Clive and I had engaged in our love making at least four or five time a week. Once the sharp edge of my grief had been blunted, the craving for sexual gratification had returned. 

I masturbated frequently, but this only seemed to stave off my sexual hunger for a very short time. I needed what I thought of as "the real thing." I wanted a man touching my body and declaring his love as Clive did. I wanted to take a man's penis into my hand and suck on his crown until he came, or feel him inside me as he spurted his seed into me as Clive did with such carefree abandon. In short, I wanted love and the things that went with love between a fertile woman and virile man.

I had hoped that the nightmare would go away, but it didn't, and I came to dread going to bed at night and the coming of sleep, knowing that my rape dream would hold me in its grip once more.

Finally I gave in and went to see my doctor. I told him the truth and he listened sympathetically, then with some humming and hurrumping he said, "I think, Zintra, you're right in your diagnoses of the cause. You are the sort of woman who needs a man, and knowing you and Clive as I have done over the years, it isn't just any man you want."

"No," I replied, "With Clive it was all the other things that went with sex, the love and companionship."

"There's not a great deal I can do to help you, Zintra, unless of course you want to go to a psychiatrist, but it's not as if your response to the situation is an abnormal one. I think perhaps we can try a mild sedative and see how that goes.

In the following days the "mild sedative" proved to be a bit less mild and bit more powerful, than I had expected. It left me drowsy and feeling vaguely unwell during the day, and sent me off to sleep quickly at night but it didn't stop the nightmare coming.

After giving the medication what I thought was a fair trial, I stopped taking it. The rape dream was beginning to really undermine me by then. I thought it might not be so frightening if I could somehow enjoy the dream, allow myself to submit as I believe some women do when subjected to a real rape attack. 

Even this was no help. The dream simply would not allow me to feel anything but terror as I was held down and the crown of a penis pushed against my vagina. In any case, if it is possible that a woman can enjoy rape, which I doubt, the penis of the faceless assailant never actually penetrated my vagina. I always woke up at the time when, in normal sexual intercourse, one would expect to feel the length slide into the female tunnel. 

Edmund still heard my cries and pleadings, and started to comment on how pale I was looking. He also noted that I was not eating properly and now seemed always to have a pain.

He was right about the pain. It was a dull ache in my lower abdomen – an ache that masturbation might disperse temporarily, but even this became ever more ineffective.

The ache was physical, but it was also emotional. I have said that I was still an extremely fertile woman, and one of the regrets that Clive and I had, was that we had only had one child. For some years we went for all sorts of tests, and finally it was pronounced that there was no reason why I should not get pregnant, but that there was something amiss with Clive's sperm.

After that, we accepted the situation, and focused our love on each other and Edmund.

Now, after my recovery from Clive's death, I think the ache I felt was not simply the result of sexual deprivation; it was also a sense of loss for the other child or children I had never had. Ridiculously for a forty year old woman, I wanted to be pregnant.

I was fully aware that I was still capable of bearing a child, at least as far as my fertility was concerned, but I had doubts about the advisability of pregnancy at my age. I had heard it said that a woman should not get pregnant after she was around thirty five or six. 

On a visit to my doctor I casually asked him about this, and he laughed and said, "I suppose that they are right up to a point, Zintra, but I have known women in their forties to get pregnant, and thoroughly enjoy it." Then laughing again he said, "I read recently of a woman of sixty two giving birth, but I wouldn't advise it. Why do you ask, do you think you're pregnant?"

"No," I replied a little unhappily, "I just wish I was sometimes."

"Well, perhaps you'll find someone, Zintra, before it too late."

That closed the subject, and I went home to try and get some temporary relief for my ache by masturbating.

Edmund's increasing concern for my appearance and health began to zero in on my dream. He realised, I think, that I had come to terms with my grieving for Clive. In trying to understand why I looked so pale and was eating so badly, he concluded that the dream was the source of the problem.

He wanted to know the content of the dream, and for a long time I held back from telling him. I pushed his questions away with, "It's only a dream, darling."

Edmund was no fool; he understood that dreams can carry meanings beneath the actual content as the dreamer perceives it. So he pressed me to tell about my dream.

If I was right about the underlying meaning of my dream, then I was too shy or too ashamed to tell my own son that I was craving for love and sex, and the dream represented a battle going on inside me.

That battle now seemed to be, my longing for sex and pregnancy, but it had to be with someone I loved – loved deeply as I had loved Clive. In my hunger the dream allowed me to go so far – the moment of entry into my vagina – but then woke me up, thus saving me from some feelings of guilt.

I began to wonder if I was being too fastidious. Perhaps I should find some man who smelt clean, and start having sex with him. Certainly there was no lack of men who would have willingly bedded me, many of them husbands of my friends, but I could not bring myself to do it. Perhaps I was being greedy, but I wanted more.

I started to have fits of crying, yet could not properly distinguish what I was crying about. A general depression seemed to take hold of me, and I passed my days in gloomy despair. I can best describe it as an objectless fear or dread, and I started to wonder if I was going out of my mind, and began to consider the idea of going to a psychiatrist.

Before it came to that, a critical moment arrived. Edmund and I were watching a television documentary that included a segment on people plagued by dreams or nightmares. I felt the tears coming and tried to fight them down, but I finally broke out into agonising sobs.

I made to flee from the room, but Edmund took hold of me round the waist and pulled me back on to the couch where we were sitting together.

"Come on mother," he said gently, "Don't you think it's time for us to talk about those dreams of yours? You've hidden them long enough, let's have it out in the open."

He had caught me in a vulnerable moment, and I leaned against him, at first hiding my face against his chest. As my sobs diminished I started to open up to him.

"It isn't really dreams darling, it's always the same dream." I not only went on to tell him of the rape dream, but perhaps foolishly told him of my interpretation – of my waking need for love and sex, and the desire to have a child before it was too late.

When I finished Edmund was silent for a long time, as if he was trying to digest what I had revealed to him. He did not remove his arm from me, but I feared he would feel disgust at his forty year old mother wanting sex and a baby.

When he did speak it was very softly, almost a whisper. "I know how you and dad loved each other," he said. "I was witness to it because of the affection you always showed each other. I also heard you at night…"

"Edmund…!"

"Sorry mum, but it's a fact. You two made quite a bit of noise when you made love. I often laid awake listening to you, almost envying your passionate love for each other. I used to think, 'One day I want to find a woman I can love with like that'. Mind you, I had no cause for complaint. You and dad always seemed to have enough love left over for me…"

"Of course we did, Edmund, you were part of our love – a result of it."

"I know, mum, and it's a beautiful thing…and the love you and dad had for each other was beautiful, but you're still a woman with a woman's needs, and the more you try to fight against them, the greater the pressure those needs will exert. I think you must find that love again, with someone else."

"Where am I going to find someone Edmund? Oh, there are plenty of men willing to fuck me, but it's not so easy to find the love your father and I had."

"No, it isn't," he replied thoughtfully, "but at least you could stop fighting your needs, accept them, and who knows what might happen?"

He was saying nothing I had not thought about for myself, and I had not told him much more than I had told my doctor, but to hear him say it, to realise that he accepted me as a sexual being, I found to be an enormous comfort. I understood then, that in future I could be open with him. There was no need to hide what I had thought to be my guilty secret where Edmund was concerned.

"Thank you, darling," I said. "Thank you for being so accepting of what I have told you, and for your comfort."

He smiled and said, "Shouldn't we always be ready to accept the ones we love?"

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, so I kissed him softly on the lips, said good night, and made my way to bed.

That night, as always, I masturbated soon after I got into bed. At the point of my orgasm I had, in the past, fantasised about faceless men penetrating me. Now I found myself fantasising Edmund loving me.

The strange thing was, I felt neither repelled nor guilty, and it simply felt like the most natural thing in the world.

When I finished I felt a peace I had not experienced for a long time. I slipped into a calm sleep, and the next thing I knew, I was coming to in the morning.

I could hardly believe it. I had passed the night without my rape dream. For the first time in months I had been without my nightly visitation. I felt refreshed – almost a new woman. I rose and after showering went into the kitchen for breakfast. 

Edmund was already there eating. He looked up as I came in and smiled, saying, "I didn't hear you last night."

"No darling, I didn't have my nightmare."

He looked at me strangely for a moment, and then said quite simply, "Good." 

He left for work soon after, kissing me as he departed. I proceeded to eat a breakfast the size of which afterwards made me admonish myself, "You'll put on weight if you go on like that, Zintra."

My admonition made no difference, and I later ate a hearty lunch. After lunch I lay on my bed to masturbate, and instead of the almost despairing attempts to relieve myself in the past, this time it was a joyful, exultant event. Once more I fantasised Edmund, and rejoiced in doing so.

I told myself that this fantasising of Edmund was the result of his tender treatment of me the previous night, and the fact that he looked so like Clive. Feeling no guilt about it, I decided that I would simply go on enjoying it.

Throughout the day I actually found myself singing and even felt like dancing. I told myself I was behaving like a teenage girl who had fallen in love for the first time, but this admonition did no more good than the others. I felt wonderful.

In the course of the afternoon I began to think about Edmund. I reconsidered why I was fantasising him in my masturbating, and found myself, as it were in cold blood, wondering what it would be like to make love with him. 

I recalled the widow he had, and perhaps still was, having sex with, and felt a pang of envy. Then I remembered something he had said the night before that had passed almost unnoticed at the time. He had said that he had envied Clive and me when we made love.

Did he mean this in a general way, or was he really saying that he envied Clive because he could have me? I was mentally suddenly pulled up short. Why was I thinking like this? Why should I wonder in which way Edmund had meant that word "envy"?

"My God, was I thinking about being fucked by my own son? Of course I was, and I decided I'd better stamp that fire out as quickly as possible. The result was my joyous mood of only a few minutes ago started to be overcast with dark clouds.

I began to accuse myself, to call myself a filthy incestuous woman. I even felt I should be punished in some way for harbouring sexual thoughts about my own son.

The tears came, and this time there was no Edmund to comfort me, and if he had been with me, I certainly could not reveal my thoughts and feelings to him. Damn it, there was no one I could reveal them to. To do so would make me a pariah, an outcast from decent society.

I tried to absorb myself in preparing the evening meal, but the confused jumble of thoughts and emotions kept bursting into my head. I wanted to run away, but knew enough to realise that what I thought and felt would run away with me.

Edmund detected my mood within minutes of his arrival home.

"Mother, you seemed so happy when I left for work, but you look absolutely miserable now, what's happened?"

I muttered something about having a bad day, everything going wrong, and did so in a manner that suggested no further questions would be welcome.

During the meal I found myself looking speculatively at Edmund, once more weighing him up as a male…as a sexual being.

After we had cleared up Edmund said, "I'm going out this evening, mum, I might be home a bit late."

He had said something like this countless times, but this time I snapped, "Going to see your sexy widow, are you?"

He looked surprised, but responded quite calmly, "Yes, I am."

"I hope she comes across for you," I snarled.

Edmund looked at me for a moment, and then said very quietly, "I have a lot of reason to be grateful to her, and although you don't know it, so have you."

With that he turned and left the room.

A while later I heard him in the shower, and soon after the front door opened and closed, and he was gone. I hated myself for what I had said and the manner in which I had said it, and wondered how I could apologise.

By the time I was ready to go to bed Edmund had still not returned. I showered and got miserably into the bed. I masturbated, but it was not the joyful release of the previous night. As my climax came I moaned desolately, "Edmund, oh Edmund, my love…"

I fell into a restless doze, coming to at intervals as I thought I heard Edmund returning. I ended up crying myself to sleep and then, some time in the early hours of the morning it must have been, I dreamed.

It was not my rape dream this time. It was of Edmund with her, the widow. I saw her plump sensuous body laying on a bed her arms extend to Edmund, and her legs open and drawn up, ready to receive him. He came upon her, his throbbing blood infused manhood seeking her vulva, and she, taking hold of his shaft guiding him into her.

He was just about to penetrate her vagina, when I cried out, "Edmund…Edmund…no my darling…please Edmund…no..."

"What is it, mother?"

It was Edmund's voice waking me. He was standing beside my bed in his night shorts, looking at me with deep concern.

I held out my arms to him, "Oh Edmund, Edmund, darling…"

He came down to me, putting his arms round me and holding me close.

"What is it? What is it? I heard you calling my name. Was it the nightmare again?"

"Not the old one, darling, it was worse, much worse."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"I can't, darling. It was too…too… shocking."

"Surely it couldn't have been that bad, mother. After what you told me the other night, it can't too hard to tell me about this dream? You were calling my name, was I in your dream? 




Nightmare



"Yes," I whispered hoarsely.

"What was happening?"

"You and the widow, you were…"

"Having sex?"

"Yes."

"You didn't want me to?"

"Yes, I felt so…so jealous, so angry and bereft."

He drew me even closer.

"You've been with her tonight. Did you…was it good?"

"No, it wasn't good, mother. It was rather sad, you see, I went to see her to say goodbye."

"Why, darling? I mean…I had the dream and I spoke so horribly to you…and I'm sorry…but why…was she upset….angry?"

"Well, she always knew…I mean she understood that I loved someone else. She has been very good to me…wonderful in fact…but she accepted that there was someone else right from the start. That's how we began making love in the first place."

"I don't understand."

"You see, one day I was feeling particularly wretched and I went out for a walk. I met her and we got talking. I'd seen her lots of times before. We'd talked occasionally, but this time she caught me at a vulnerable time. She seemed so open and understanding so I told her…I…told her about my feelings. Perhaps she just felt sorry for me…I don't know, but she invited me to her house…and that's how it started."

"So you've been in love with someone but you can't be with them…they don't want you?"

"Something like that. I mean, it is impossible."

Now I found myself, instead of being the recipient of his comfort, wanting to comfort him.

"Darling it can't be as bad as that. Surely there's some way you could be with this person – girl – you love so much."

"I am with her, but she is forbidden."

"But you're with me, Edmund."

"Yes."

Whatever "unnatural feelings" I had been having about Edmund, I had never for a moment suspected he had similar feelings for me. In my confusion the words were wrenched out of me, "My God, Edmund, you mean you've wanted me…?"

"Yes."

"Even before your father was killed?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, mother. I tried not to feel that way, but I did and that's it."

We were silent for a long time. Edmund sat on the edge of the bed neither of us looking at the other. As we later told each other, we were frightened at the enormity of what Edmund had openly admitted he felt for me, and my unspoken hunger for him.

To take what we both wanted would be to overstep the moral values of society and religion. We were like two people standing in darkness on the edge of an abyss, not wanting to turn back, yet knowing if we leapt out into the darkness there might be no solid ground on the other side.

At that moment it was clear that Edmund felt the burden of what he had confessed to me, while I could still hide behind my silence. I knew this was the defining moment. If I stayed silent I would leave Edmund to carry a burden of guilt while I at least could continue to pretend to a virtue I did not really have a right to.

The silence went on until I could stand it no longer. I touched his hand with mine and whispered, "It's all right my darling. I feel for you as you do for me."

It was out in the open and now we were equal partners in our acknowledged feelings for each other. This could now unite us or tear us apart.

I waited for Edmund's response. He had found his own feelings unacceptable and had fought against them, now I had spoken of my feelings, would he reject me?

There flashed into my mind a quotation from Edward Gibbon: "The most worthless of mankind are not afraid to condemn in others the same disorders they allow themselves; and can readily discover some nice difference of age, character, or station, to justify the partial distinction."

Edmund had not even allowed the "disorder" in himself, how would he feel about the same "disorder" in me? Would he feel, even say, "You are older than I; you are my mother and should know better"? Perhaps he would feel repugnance. Would he turn from me – never want to see me again?

He sat on in silence for a little longer, then in a voice barely audible he said, "I love you very much, mother."

It was enough. If we now leapt out over the abyss, even if there were no foothold on the other side, we would fall into the depths together. I made the move I felt would be decisive, I knelt beside him on the bed, turned his face to me, and kissed him long and hungrily.

He began to respond until we were almost eating each other, our tongues competing for entry into the other's mouth, our teeth gnawing at each other's lips. 

He bore me down onto my back, his hand seeking my breasts beneath my flimsy night dress, while he continued to kiss my mouth, eyes, hair and neck.

I reached down and slipping my hand through the elastic top of his night shorts, I found his penis, hot and throbbing.

I struggled to remove his shorts, but it was too awkward, so he pulled away from me to remove them himself, while I slipped out of my night dress.

Naked in each other's presence for the first time, we paused as we looked at each other. I had seen him clad only in his shorts or swimming trunks many times, and had admired his strong, lithe body, but now I saw for the first time since his childhood days, his now fully grown manhood. The purple crown, shining with pre-cum, and the light brown shaft infused with blood, and I thought I could see it pulsating with the beat of his heart.

As he looked at me he groaned, "Oh mother, you're even more beautiful than I thought."

My own sex organ was wet with the copious discharge of my lubricant, and I was in that state when inhibitions have faded into nothingness and the long held back thoughts and desires come surging to the surface. As his lips sought my nipple and began to suckle, I gave vent to my passionate desire.

"Fertilise me, darling, make me pregnant."

I felt him pause, then taking his lips from my nipple he looked up at me.

"Do you mean you could get pregnant if I…if I…"

"Of course, darling. That's one of the things I want with you."

"But they say that if a mother and son, or brother and sister…"

"I know what they say, darling, but it doesn't have to be true. Now take me and give me a baby."

Whatever doubts he might have had about my reassurance, he was too far gone down the avenue of desire to pull back. I spread my legs wide to receive him, and as he came over me I guided his penis to my opening. He gently pressed into me until his full length was penetrating.

I had anticipated a brief, wild coupling, but I was wrong. Passionately worked up as he was, he held back from discharging into me. It was as if he wanted to make our union last as long as possible so that he could savour every moment of it. Far from being wild, it was a sweet, gentle coupling, his hand still caressing my breast, his eyes looking into mine.

How long he moved up and down in me while I flexed my vaginal muscle round his shaft, I don't know. I felt I was away in some heaven where time stood still and there was only the delicious experience of love fulfilling itself in the closest of all physical blending between man and woman.

I felt him start to move more rapidly in me and I moved with him. We seemed to be in perfect sexual harmony with each other, even to the point of having our orgasms simultaneously.

Again it was no wild, thrashing climax. As his first spurt of semen pumped into me, he gasped, "Oh Mother…" This he repeated with every pulse of his ejaculation. 

As I came with him I had my own cry, "Oh my darling…oh my darling."

We clung to each other, held in the bonds of love and lust, and with every throb of his sweet warm seed into me I prayed a silent prayer, "Please let him fertilise me…"

When he had finished and I was climbing down from the heights, I anticipated he would withdraw from me. Instead he stayed with me, seemingly unwilling to break our union. As if some barrier had coming crashing down inside him, he poured out his love for me, speaking of how he had wanted me since he first entered puberty, how he had agonized over his feelings, and swearing eternal devotion to me.

This latter I had my doubts about, as many women had assured me that men, in the first flush of sexual gratification, are inclined to make such promises that they don't keep.

I, on the other hand, was giving silent thanks to the widow who must have taught him much about a woman's feelings and needs. I also made a promise, but it was a promise to me. I would never demand more from Edmund than he was willing to give freely. If in the near or distance future he tired of me, I would let him go without restraint. Should a child result from our union, I would accept the full responsibility. In the meantime, I would enjoy what Edmund had to give and I intended to give myself unreservedly to him.

In the midst of these slightly somber thoughts, I was surprised to feel Edmund's shaft hardening again inside me. "Surely," I thought, "he can't want to ejaculate into me already." I was wrong, he did want to.

He began to move in me again with surprising urgency given that it was such a short time before he had shot into me. Even Clive had needed an hour or two recovery time to achieve a second successful coupling. I, on the other hand, had no difficulty coming again very quickly, so Edmund's need matched mine beautifully.

This time my orgasm came before his and, as one might say, he was able to give me his full attention, making sure he stayed with me fully active until I had calmed down. Then he ejaculated, and I lay stroking his face and murmuring words of love to him as he moaned into me.

This time he withdrew soon after he had finished, but we continued to embrace each other, his hands stroking my breasts, as he pressed soft kisses over my face and neck.

Both we and the bed were in a mess. His sperm mixed with my fluid was dripping out of me on to the sheet, and there was that slightly fishy smell that seems to accompany successful sexual union.

Laughing I said, "Let's clear up this mess and then shower."

We stripped the sheet from the bed and replaced it, then went off hand in hand to the shower.

It was while I was washing his penis that it started to stiffen again, and with the water still flowing over us, he took me standing up against the shower wall. With his hands under my buttocks he lifted me up and down on his shaft until I was giving out orgasmic cries again, cries of my love and desire for him.

He waited until I had begun the downward slide from my climax before he pumped into me. This was to be the pattern as I have since discovered. He was concerned to see that I had achieved my climax before he ejaculated. This ensured that he was still with me as the orgasmic after shocks continued to rack me. As I was to discover, in this and so many other things he was always considerate of my needs.

Many times I have given thanks to the widow who taught him so well.

Returning to bed we lay for some time simply embracing each other, then, he began to suck my nipples. From there he traced a pattern of kisses down my body until he reached my vulva. 

He moved so as to kneel between my legs and putting his hands under my buttocks, he raised my sex to his mouth. With his tongue he at first probed for my inner lips, and then thrust through into my vagina. His tongue flicked into me for some time, until he transferred his attention to my clitoris. 

With his arms still raising my buttocks, his fingers lifted the little hood, and his tongue explored the little nub of nerve endings, sending waves of delicious pleasure through me. Another orgasm began to shake me and I held his head to me as I really screamed out this time. He had to hold me tightly or I must have broken away from him, I was vibrating so much.

As I once more began to calm, I broke from him, pushing him on to his back and took the crown of his penis into my mouth. I sucked and nibbled on it until I felt him beginning to jerk spasmodically as the sperm began to be thrust up his shaft.

It was his turn to hold my head as he squirted his hot thick semen into my mouth. I battled to swallow it, but it came so fast and in such a quantity, that it began to dribble out of the corners of my mouth.

As he finished and I had tried to suck the last drop out of him, I moved away from him and said, "Let's taste each other."

I began kissing him, pushing some of his sperm into his mouth. His face was still wet with my lubricant, so in fact we tasted a mixture of our own and the other's fluid. In a way it was a final exposing of our selves to each other, an act of peculiar intimacy that only those who love deeply can fully enjoy. 

Edmund was finally sated but his penis had barely slacked, so I turned my back towards his, and pushing my buttocks against him, I guided his penis into my vagina. His hand reached over me to take hold of my breast, and locked together we drifted off to sleep the sweet sleep of lovers who have found their fulfillment in each other.

I woke early in the morning and of course, during the night we had parted. Early as I had awakened, Edmund was already awake and resting on his elbow was looking at me. As I came fully awake he gently pushed me onto my back, parted my legs, and coming over me he entered, slipping his shaft slowly into me.

He lay still for a long time, looking at me and occasionally plucking a kiss from my lips.

"Don't wait for me this time darling, just enjoy," I murmured quietly.

I lay relaxed, stroking his face and hair as he began to move again. I wanted to give without receiving, but in fact I was receiving. It was a moment of realization that we truly belonged together. We were wrapped in a bond that might be called, "deathless." In this early morning coupling Edmund seemed to be trying to communicate that he belonged totally to me. In my relaxed surrender I tried to communicate my complete giving of self to him.

He came into me with slow deep thrusts, seeking to reach to my depths. I wrapped my legs round him to give him the greatest possible penetration.

I had no orgasm, and had not sought one. I was simply happy to feel his seed steadily driven in. Looking back, I have often felt it was this joining together that gave me the one other thing I wanted with Edmund, a pregnancy. I wanted his…our…child inside me.

When he had finished Edmund lay for a while, still united with me, looking at me and saying, "You are lovely, mother."

I gave a little chuckle and said, "Darling, I think we've added an extra dimension to our relationship. Don't you think it ought to be Zintra in future?"

He laughingly agreed.

"Darling, it's a work day. We can't lie here all day."

"That's what I want to do," he complained…"I mean, not just lie here…"

I chuckled again, interrupting him; "I'm fully aware of what you mean, my love, and would agree with you entirely, but we haven't made any arrangements for a honeymoon. We'll have to wait until you come home this evening to continue our communication."

He grinned, and getting out of the bed said, "Then be sure to be ready to continue when I do get home."

Looking at him seriously I replied, "I shall be ready all day."

Throughout that first day after our "wedding night," I was caught between feelings of elation and wonder that I had found in my own son a passionate lover. At times I actually wondered if it had really happened. Perhaps it was an exquisite dream and I would wake up to bitter disappointment?

Any doubts that I might have had about the reality of what had occurred were dispelled almost as soon as Edmund walked in the door that evening.

I had kept my word that I would be "ready all day." Under a loose dress I was wearing nothing, and as he bent me face down over the kitchen table and thrust urgently into me from behind, I was indeed ready.

I gave backward thrusts as he pushed into my depths, and when I came he clung to my hips, working with me. Then I felt even more urgent thrusts into me as he poured his seed into me. I felt a passing sense of wonder at the quantities of semen he seemed able to produce. "Lucky me," I thought.

We managed to get through the evening meal before we rushed off to shower and clamber into bed.

Edmund began kissing me, beginning with my lips, then gradually all over my body.

At one point his lips touched my anus, and I said, "Take me there, darling."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said doubtfully.

"It's all right, sweetheart. If you spread some of my fluid and your pre-cum over the entrance and just inside, it won't hurt me."

He did as I bade him, and I lay over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor and a couple of pillows under my stomach.

Edmund stood behind me, and I felt him tentatively probe with his shaft for my anus. Then he was carefully pushing in. There was no pain, and I flexed my anal muscle round his length, making him groan with ecstacy. 

He had his hands on my hips pulling me towards him, so I reached back, and taking one hand, drew it to my vagina and said, "Stimulate my clitoris, darling."

His finger began a circular movement round the little mound, and he quickly had me coming. It was one of those simultaneous orgasms again, with Edmund just a little behind me in starting his. 

As I screamed and bucked against him, I felt his sperm shoot into me like a canon firing. I think I must have gone out somewhere into space, because at my climax I was in a world of exquisite, pulsating torment that I wanted to go on for ever.

As I came to myself again, I felt Edmund, still inside me, relaxing and drooping over me. I pulled away from him and rolling over to the centre of the bed, I extended my arms to him, and he came into my embrace.

For a while we talked quietly and our words were of reassurance.

Whereas I had doubted Edmund's words of life long devotion, I now learned that he had the fear that for me this was simply an interlude. How, given what had passed between us sexually, he could doubt my fidelity in relation to him, I found it hard to understand. Yet I suppose most of us have our doubts that the other can remain in union with us permanently.

Now we were at peace. We taken out leap into the darkness of the abyss and seemed to have found solid ground the other side. The solid ground was an extension of the bond that had been between us since his birth, the enlargement of that bond to include the act of sexual love. 

Yet I knew that the sexual act in itself can contain both life enhancing and life destructive elements. I prayed that our acts of sexual union would conform to the latter.

As I had hoped, our union was fruitful and Anne arrived nine months almost to the day after our first coupling. Edmund's fears were not born out, and Anne is a very beautiful and intelligent child, much loved by Edmund and me.

I add that our other fears of a short term or faithless relationship have not been fulfilled. Edmund and I are still passionate lovers six years after we first began coupling.



Nightmare



I woke slowly and fought my way to consciousness as if trying to swim up from deep, dark water. The pressure in my mouth was immediately foreign to me and when I went to reach for whatever it was in my mouth I found my arms wouldn't respond. Still trying to awaken myself it took me a little time to realize that my hands were restrained. A couple good shakes told me that I was shackled. My subsequent scream was thoroughly muffled by what was in my mouth. 

My legs were also restrained and a cool wafting breeze from my open window told me that I was also naked. Fully awake at this point I remembered that I had closed the window on this unusually chilly summer night. 

'It's just the way you wanted it, Christie.'

His voice was manly enough, confident, and somehow caring. Still, I didn't know him and the practical aspect of waking up bound, tied, and naked in ones own bed doesn't instill anything other than fear of whoever the voice belongs to.

A caress of my bare foot sends a shiver up my spine. Combining fear and the chill of the night, the goosepimples come easily.

'You like that. I knew you would.'

I can't see him in the dark but I feel the bed as he climbs on it. Gently, he spreads my knees apart and immediately nuzzles my sex. In utter futility I scream again and buck wildly.

'Right, like in your story you have to fight to make it clear that this isn't your choice. I loved that story, Christie, and it was so wonderful when you invited me to help you live it out. All of our chats for the last few years and now here we are living out the fantasy. This is going to be sweet!'

Chats? What chats? I haven't chatted since I was nineteen! His mouth descends on my sex like a thirsty man on a beer. Despite any feelings to the contrary, my body responds to the attention and I feel an unwelcome arousal as his toungue knowingly seeks out my secret places. Lovingly and gently, his hands caress my body from my knees to my breasts as that familiar feeling starts to build in me. It's too soon! I never respond like this and now my body just seems to betray me.

'Just like you'd said, you smell of lavender.'

The brief interlude over, his tongue returns to my sex and I almost immediately feel the pleasure building. I whine with the lack of control over my most private and personal part of myself and he giggles and slips his tongue deep into my body and then he sucks onto me as if drawing life itself from me.

I cry out with the unwanted pleasure and he does it to me again followed by yet one more time. I come back to my senses and feel the sweat on my back cooling the sheet beneath me. The bed moves again.

'I've waited for this for four years. You have too.'

He lays himself on top of me and as comes close to me I can only see his lips and his eyes through the balaclava covering his head. He kisses my neck as I turn my face from him and he giggles again.

'You're amazing how you're playing this! This is so great!'

My body having already done what it wanted in response to his previous attentions, he finds me ready yet again for what he does next. I smell his aftershave as I feel his cock grind into my pubic hair and I hear him swoon as the head slips into me.

'Oooohhh, fuck.'

He stops for a second, a second that stretches out to an eternity for me. And then, in a few strokes, we're fully involved and the hair from his ample balls tickles the skin on my ass. For some strange reason I find the sensation to be erotic despite the fact, a fact I make myself acknowledge, that I am being raped. The sensation of his cock slowly and comfortably slipping into my depths before retreating only to do it again evokes something else. It is wrong in so many ways and I try to tell myself to stop, but then I spread my legs just that extra bit to get him into me even deeper.

'Mmmmm.'

He snugs himself deep into me with each thrust now. Past experience tells me that if my hands were free I'd be feeling his butt tighten and his back arch into me every time he seeks my cervix.

He stops for a moment.

'I know it's not exactly how you wanted it, but I know you'll like it.'

I have no clue what he's talking about. He slips from my body and I suddenly feel the cold air on my pussy. Hmph, I want to call it my 'sex', but I realize that right now it's a pussy.

The sound of a soft rope rubbing on rope comes to my ears and then my legs are free.

Before I can think too much about that fact he lays himself down on me again and slips into me again. His warmth eases the chill I'd felt on my moist pussy and it's a kind of a relief. He puts the weight of his chest on mine and crushes me into the soft mattress as his hands seek my knees. I know what he wants and I comply and bring my knees up around him. His hands go to the soles of my feet and he presses my knees back as he rises over me. He lets go of my feet and holds himself in a pushup over me. I must look like a slut is what I'm thinking as I see him staring at the place where his body enters mine.

As he continues with his rape there are times when the only parts of the two of us that touch is where he goes into me.

I'm not sure when it happened, but I'm suddenly aware of a pillow under my ass.

He gets more intense.

'I want you to feel it when I come in you. I want you to concentrate on feeling us together. Think about my cock in you when you feel me come and put my baby in you.'

Baby?! Jesus Christ, he doesn't have a condom on!

I scream, I shake my head 'no', I go to try to kick him off of me and he just falls onto me and starts to pound at me. I can't help it, my feet are up in the air and my knees are at his side as he plows me.

'Ahh, ummmm. Unghhhhh.'

He looks me right in the eye as I feel him hold himself deep inside me. His balls twitch on my ass and I feel his cock ripple and swell as it pushes its cargo into me. He just seems to never stop coming into me and it seems like my pussy has no end to its thirst for his bastard sperm. And, oh shit, I know it, I just KNOW I'm going to be pregnant when this is done.

He lifts himself off of me.

His cock is still wildly spewing sperm, soaking the sheets and my belly in an absolute shower of semen.

'There, isn't it beautiful?'

I look down and see my belly swollen with the baby he just put into me.

I screamed.

'Christie?'

My shoulder is being shaken.

'Sweetie, wake up. C'mon, wake up, honey.'

I open my eyes and find Steve looking at me.

'You had a bad dream, hon. You okay?'

'Yeah. It must've been that sandwich earlier.'

He chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of 'I told you so' and rolls over and goes right back to sleep.

I swing my legs out of the bed and feel the little bit of tenderness in my feet as I put my weight on them. I pad out to the bathroom and plop down on the toilet and pee. It takes forever before I can wipe myself and get up. I wash my hands and the cool water reminds me of another cool sensation.

I look in the mirror and think about how I've never looked better than to be carrying my baby. 

I get back to bed and can't sleep so I get up and go down to the basement and flip on my computer. I check my messages and find that there aren't many (which is normal since I quit work) and then I remember the vivid nightmare and realize it might make a passable story. In typing it out and sipping on some water my eyes begin to grow heavy and now that I'm done I'm ready to go back to bed. The bed where my baby was lovingly made with my full cooperation.

Before I submit the story one last thought crosses my mind.

Maybe I need to get Steve a ski mask for when I want to get pregnant again.



Nightmare



"Where the hell am I?"

Jane opened her eyes to a dark wooden ceiling, rafters sneaking along and supporting the termite infested pine beams, meeting in the middle. As she attempted to move her head and roll to her side, she realized her arms were tied tightly around her back, her ankles bound together, and a cloth stuffed deeply inside her mouth. The scream muffled in her throat as all the flashes of the night before came flooding back to her.

Having a drink at her apartment, alone... Growing tired around midnight and crawling into bed... A loud noise and pressure waking her up suddenly... A sickly sweet aroma engulfing her as her eyelids shut on their own accord...

Her heart began to race in her chest as she fought against her restraints, praying that this was somebody's idea of a sick joke. Why was she alone in this room, bound and gagged, laying on her back? Who in the world would possibly know she was missing?

Tears formed in her eyes and leaked from the corners. No. This was fucking impossible. She would close her eyes and magically wake up from this bad dream in her own bed. But no, she felt the cold wind from the cracks in the walls snaking against her bare feet and arms. She was trapped.

She remembered the prayer her nanny had taught her when she was very little. Now I lay me... She groped for the words now. 

"Now I lay me... down to sleep..."

She heard footsteps in the next room...

"I pray the Lord... my soul to keep..."

The door swung open and a shadowed figure stood before her...

"If I should die before I wake..."

The figure came thundering across the room as she desperately tried to back up, a hand slamming across her face, and once again all was dark.



"Jane... Baby girl Jaaa-aaane... Wake up, love."

There was a metallic salty taste in her mouth. It took her a moment to realize it was blood. She licked her lips, chapped and dry, as she raised her head slowly, the bright lights blinding her momentarily. 

"Oh god... it wasn't a dream..."

"There we go, love. There are your pretty green eyes opening up for me. You've been asleep for way too long baby girl Jane." A taunting voice chuckled deeply from the corner of the room. Jane's arms stretched above her head, still tied together tightly, and hung perfectly from a suspended chain. Her hair, she had so carefully pulled it up last night, was hanging wildly about her face and down her back, the dark locks in complete disarray.

"Where am I? Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" She moved herself about to find the disembodied voice, but the bright lights kept the corners hidden in shadows, concealing her captor. Her heart began thudding deep in her chest again.

"Oh Jane, love. You ask too many questions. You'll get no answers until I decide you can have answers. You've been a bad little girl, Jane. Such a cock tease..."

Two hands lightly grabbed her hips and she froze in place. Slowly their grasp tightened and pulled her ass against a warm body. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt more tears fall as the hands climbed her sides, over her breasts, a chin resting on the top of her head, one finger finding the wetness on her cheeks.

"Crying already, baby Jane? You don't even know what is in store for you, love. It's no time to cry. Yet."

Finally the dark voice circled in front of her, and she came face to face with him. 

"What?! I don't understand! What's going on?!" His blonde hair still crept and swung into his eyes. His dark brown eyes, almost black. His wicked grin still prominent on his face as he lifted her chin to completely meet his gaze.

"I knew you'd remember me, Jane. I knew you would." He snickered and walked back into the shadows as her mouth hung open, incredulous. Jane couldn't remember his name. She only remembered his face and that crooked smile mocking her. 

It had been two years ago. Two years. She had lived in another apartment building with two roommates. One night, they had all gone out drinking, having fun, and Rachel had invited her boyfriend and his friend back to stay at their place. They all went to bed well into the morning, and the friend woke Jane in the middle of the night. 

He was standing over her, his blonde hair in his eyes, his hands on his engorged dick, her covers flipped down to reveal her nakedness. She had immediately screamed, kicking him in the stomach, waking the house. He apologized profusely, claiming drunken sleepwalking; he didn't realize what he was doing. Eventually they all went back to sleep, but not before Jane locked her door tightly, and he was never allowed at their apartment again.

David. That was his name.

"So Jane, baby, how have you been?" He had walked back into her view, but this time with a large knife in his hands. Immediately she froze, her hands, face, and feet going numb with fear.

"What are you doing, David?"

"Look at that ladies and gentleman! The stuck up bitch remembered my name! How ever did you do it, sweetheart." He snickered lightly again as he walked as close to her as he could get; his face bent down next to hers. "Now, love, Jane, baby. You're going to want to stay absolutely, positively still. And don't get that girly notion to start screaming your head off. Because there are always... ways... of stopping that." He smirked as he drew the blade across her cheek and down her neck.

"please..." She barely whispered the words, her body shaking as the knife slipped further and further down her body. She stared into his eyes while he watched the blade.

"Oh yes, Jane. Please. Don't worry. If you cooperate, you'll be having just as much fun as I am by the time this over. Maybe." He brought the knife to the base of her sleep shirt and slowly slit the fabric open. It was quickly removed, leaving only her panties between her and the world.

"I was surprised to find you sleep in clothes now, Jane. Although it was rather cold last night. I think we'll just leave these on for now." He pulled at her cotton undies, turning to place the knife back onto a table at his side.

He circled her then, her arms still tied above her head, her breasts exposed to the air, her nipples hardening already to the frigid air. He was biting his bottom lip as his hands slid up to cup a tit in each hand, his fingers rolling a nipple around. Jane could already see a bulge growing in his pants, and she could not believe the shame she felt as he molested her body.

"I hate you. Can't you find a girl to date you? Or are you so fucked up no one will have you."

He squeezed each nipple tightly until she yelped in pain, laughing as he did so.

"Actually, love. I've been dating the same girl for a year now. But I found out you moved down here last month, and I just couldn't overlook an opportunity to completely humiliate you like you did me. Look at your body. If you had only let me cum quietly that night over you..." He smacked her face again then, and quickly ripped her panties down to her feet.

"So I guess we'll get this show on the road then!" David took her panties and shoved them into her mouth, placing a piece of duct tape over that to keep her from spitting them out. As she began to kick at him, he grabbed first her left foot and then her right and tied them to metal rings set into the floor. 

He brought out a paddle and rubbed it slowly on her smooth white ass, slipping the wood between her legs and up against her clit. She tried to move, but with her legs outstretched and restrained she was utterly confined.

"Let me know if you like this, love." And with a crack, he brought the wooden paddle down onto her ass. It stung. It burned. But before she could even adjust to the shock of the pain, there was another smack to her bare ass. It went on that way for what felt like forever. Eventually, all she felt was a burning throbbing sensation, and she realized he had stopped.

Suddenly she felt the burning replaced by a sense of cool. David had a hand placed on her belly while the other hand rubbed an ice cube across her red stinging flesh. Funny. He had been the cause of her pain, but she felt almost grateful to him for giving her this relief. Hate and gratefulness all in one moment.

"Now some ointment..." His voice was almost gentle now as he medicated her wounds. And she thought it was over. He had humiliated her, and now he would let her go. He disappeared behind her again, and she felt her arms being released from the chain. She collapsed in happiness, ready for this nightmare to be over, but the ropes at her wrists were not being undone.

"Honestly, Jane, you didn't think I was already finished with you, did you?" She knew her eyes had been hooded with relief, but now they were wide in terror yet again. Would he kill her?

He had pulled a chair in front of her, sitting, his legs wide, his pants removed.

"Remember this, don't you?" His dick was already hard, a full eight inches and so big around. He grabbed her by the upper arms and ripped off the duct tape as she spit out her underwear. His hand closed over her mouth. 

"Now Jane, love. You are going to suck my cock, like you've never sucked a cock before. You know. Like your life depends on it." He snickered at his joke as he wrapped his fingers into her hair and shoved his member deep into her mouth.

He tasted musty, his precum wetting her dry tongue as he gruffly shoved her head up and down his shaft. 

"Better get that dick wet, love. No time for cotton mouth now."

Jane immediately tried to bring any saliva possible into her mouth and work her tongue around his dick. His rough moans and grunts let her know she was doing better.

"That's it... a little deeper now." She opened up and relaxed her throat to let more of him in as he let one of his hands reach down and tweak her nipples. She closed her eyes and let herself get into the motion he wanted. Fast, then slow. She couldn't help it; a low sigh escaped from her throat. Suddenly he ripped her back by her hair, saliva dripping down her chin and throat from her open mouth.

"I believe you were enjoying that, Jane." His voice was husky and deep, his breath labored, as he flung her onto her back onto the floor. "Let's check and see, shall we?" 

Before she had time to react, David had her hands again roped above her head, her back against the cold concrete floor, her feet still tied to their separate rings. He was above her, his hot sticky breath in her face, then trailing down her chest and stomach to her nether regions.

"You seem to be glistening down here a bit, Jane." His finger dipped into her hole, and she held her breath, not letting him see her arousal. Her accursed body was betraying her.

"Oh love. That's what I thought. You are nothing but a dirty whore. I should have raped you that night in your bed. You would have loved it and begged me for more.

"No I wouldn't have, David. I don't want it now. Please just let me go. You've had your fun. You've mocked me. What else do you want?" She was almost crying. But her body was beginning to yearn for more stimulation.

"What else? I want to see you beg for my dick, you little cock-sucker." He pulled his finger from her and stuck it in her mouth. She tasted herself for the first time ever. It wasn't repulsive as she expected. In fact the smell and the taste only heightened her desire. She began sucking her juice from his finger before she realized what she was doing. His laughter brought her out of her revelry.

"Look at you, Jane. Sucking my finger dry. Just like you sucked my cock. Now its my turn to taste." His head dipped out of her vision, but she felt his tongue and lips on her clit, his fingers separating and probing deeper and deeper into her. She fought against the feeling. She imagined being sickened and repulsed by being used in such a manner by someone she despised, but she could only concentrate and how good he was making her feel. He sucked on her clit, flicking his tongue every now and then across it. He had three fingers inside of her, shoving and exiting quickly, when the first cry escaped her lips. Jane bit her lip, but she felt her back arching, forcing her pelvis harder against his mouth and hands. She was about to go over the edge when he slowed and raised himself from her cunt.

She lifted her head in confusion, as her body continued to grind against the air.

"See, Jane. You're just another little dick-craving cunt whore. You know what I want to hear. And I'll give it to you. But you have to say it." His blonde hair was down in his eyes, his wicked smile mocking her yet again.

Jane's eyes burned with hatred, but her body burned with passion. She turned her head away, knowing how bad she wanted him to violate and use her even more. She mumbled two words quietly out of the corner of her mouth.

David grabbed her nipples and pulled, forcing her to cry out and push her back up to ease the tension. 

"Say it louder, Jane, or I'm going to rip your nipples right off your pretty tits." His black eyes burned into her.

"Fuck me, David. Fuck the hell out of me and use me like the little whore I am."

He immediately untied her feet and flipped her onto her stomach and thrust his dick deep into her pussy. He forced her onto her knees and ripped her head back by her hair.

"Scream for me, bitch. Loud." His dick was already thundering in and out of her shuddering hole. She began to moan and cry out with each thrust, and she could feel his left hand clutching harder and harder at her hip as each thrust became more and more intense.

"YES!!! Oh GOD YES!!! AH! AH! AH! AH! AH! AH!" She wanted this. She wanted him to be ripping through her. And she hated herself for it. His hand released her hair and gripped her right breast tightly, but she kept her head back as she felt the orgasm, the fucking release, that she needed completely control her body.

David shoved her back down until her stomach scratched against the floor. She felt his dick pull out as her orgasm subsided, then the burning hot cum from his cock covered her ass, back, and legs. He kicked her over and the rest landed on her face, tits, and stomach. She was breathing heavily, as was he, as he dropped down onto her, his hand clasping her mouth shut. He bit her neck, hard, and she cried out against his palm.

"I'm done with you now, Jane, baby. But I doubt you're done with me. Now you'll have to fucking find me if you want more." He raised his hand and yet again that night, she felt the blow to her head and the world going dark.

The sun shining in through the curtains awoke Jane the next morning. She awoke with a start, springing from her bed and screaming. From her bed...

She looked around, confused. She was back in her room, safe, secure, unharmed. She shivered, her naked skin not welcoming the cold air that surrounded her, and crawled back into bed, the covers up to her chin. A dream. A fucking dream. She'd had a horrible fucking nightmare, and that was all.

It was only then that she noticed the piece of paper stuck to her mirror. She jumped from the bed and ripped it down.

"I had a great time, Jane, baby. If you don't find me, I'll just look you up again when I'm feeling frisky."

She looked down and saw the rope burns still fresh on her wrist.



Nightmare for Sherry Ch. 01



"Now, lower her panties!"

Liz ordered her husband with a stern voice.

As delicious an idea as it was to Frank, he had to hesitate. After all it was his own 57-year old mother's panties that he was just instructed to take off.

"Come on, Frank! What are you waiting for?" 

"You need help with that?"

Liz urged again.

After swallowing couple of deep breaths, Frank finally brought himself to nudge his two thumbs inside both sides of his mother's white cotton panties. With trembling hands, Frank rushed to bring her panties down.

"Not so fast, Frank!"

"Remember this was my fantasy to begin with. Let me enjoy my eye candies." 

His wife instructed again stoically.

As Frank slowly lowered his mother's cotton panties, deep murky sour aroma from his mother's triangular mound started filling the leather sofa area where Liz and Frank initiated their dirty threesome. Both let out quiet moans when Sherry's vagina area finally came into their view - rich with deep dark auburn thick hairs and mysterious labyrinth of joy canal hiding underneath.

Liz took her mouth off Sherry's earlobe area and brought it to give her husband a deep kiss while still gently kneading Sherry's left breast over her white bras. This was just too much for Frank and at this point his immediate goal was not to explode prematurely. He had to mentally labor really hard not to shoot his load off all over his mother and wife.

Ah, is this really happening to us right now? A forbidden dream that in no shape or form is allowed to take place in normal society? The kind of dream that one can only read in some dirty magazine? In front of our own eyes? On top of our favorite leather sofa? Liz and Frank wondered simultaneously.

Of course. Why not? After all, just a while ago, Frank was allowed to kiss, touch, fondle and grope, as much as he wanted to, the old woman whom he dreamed of having for some 20 years now. He then was allowed to grab her skirts and raise them to her warm belly area. Afterward he was allowed to lower her panties down to her knee area – for him and his wife to see and smell her glorious mound. Soon the occasion would call Frank to stick his virile cock deep inside that gorgeous bushy mound!

Frank and Liz never felt this high and this exciting in all of their life.

Drugs, money, sex until now - they all paled in comparison.

But what was even more exciting was the undeniable fact that Sherry too started realizing her gradual but sure-footed arousal within herself.

Dog-on-it, Sherry was the natural mother of Frank. She never knew any other men intimately in her life other than her husband. She was always the perfect prim wife who devoted herself to raising her children and other proper domestic duties. Conservative and almost uptight , Sherry was the perfect mother who always acted in loving motherly grace.

Shouldn't this prim woman be doing everything within her power to defend her honor against rude intruders who aim to sordidly ruin her life-long reputation as a clean woman? Shouldn't she be risking her own life to do so?

But so far Sherry wasn't able to bring herself to offer any kind of real resistance but to lie down on her back on that sexy decadent leather sofa .. with her blouse unbuttoned, her skirt raised all the way to her belly and her panties rolled down to her knees.

Gosh, when would this nightmare ever end? Sherry thought to herself.





* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Well, the nightmare for Sherry all started just three months ago when her husband Dan was charged with involuntary manslaughter for running over a school kid while under the influence of alcohol. With overwhelming evidences against him, he got 25 years in jail despite hiring expensive lawyers et al. 

Even before having a chance to grieve her beloved husband's jailing, Sherry was hit with harsh financial realities that awaited her. Most of their life savings went to Dan's legal expenses.  Sherry realized that she can afford to live with current mortgage payments and living expenses for another 5 months at the most. Being a prim housewife all her life, Sherry wouldn't be able to land a decent paying job. No way! Sherry became a woman of dire serious worry and distress. She hardly slept each night. The thought of hitting street in just a few months horrified her to no end. She sobbed every day and night since the jailing of her husband. But no amount of crying changed her harsh realities. Sherry will be homeless and living the life of a beggar in a short few months time...

Being only son to his mother and always imbued with strange hard-to-describe feelings toward her, Frank was already thinking of ways to help her out of her tragic situation. Although not rich, Frank saw no problem absorbing her mother's financial woes.

It was during this turbulent time that his young wife Liz suddenly said something clueless to her husband Frank.

"I think we got her. Finally." His wife said in a calm voice.

"Got who? Honey." Frank replied uninterestedly.

"Who is who? You silly."

"I mean a woman named your mother."

"We got her alright. Looks like she has nowhere else to go." Frank said jokingly.

"Come on Frank. I mean we finally got her in a situation where we can do anything we want with her!" The young wife replied with a racy tone.

"So what do you want to do with her, honey?" Frank again replied uninterestedly.

"I always wanted to see that gorgeous bitch being driven hard by a young cock!" Retorted the young wife bluntly.

"I want to see you stick that cock of yours deep inside her soft bottom mound for me!" Continued the young wife.

Totally stunned, Frank couldn't say anything for quite a while. After reclaiming his composure, Frank yelled, "Don't ever talk that way about my mother, Liz! That's a warning!"

But Liz calmly responded, "Really Frank? You don't like your wife talking dirty about your mother?"

Frank was shocked to realize that he couldn't answer that question.

"I know men, Frank. I know you always treat your mother in a different way. You always treat her as a woman. Don't lie to me Mister. I know exactly what you were thinking whenever we had those rare special sex." The young wife purred on.

"I know how much you want to fuck her, Frank. Don't lie to me!" Declared the young wife as if answering the question for him.

Frank felt dumb founded that he is unable to stop his own wife's dirty talks involving his mother. Not only that, Frank felt enormously large arousal coursing thru his body as he for the first time heard 'mother', 'stick', 'cock', 'fuck', 'soft mound' mentioned in the open.

"Come on Mister. Don't lie." Claimed his wife as she holds Frank's huge bulge tenting out in front of his pants.

"We are gonna make that prim bitch sleep with us in return for our financial help. She got no choice. She will have to comply."

"I want to kiss her and fondle her first for a while. I want to see you Frank do the same. Then I will gradually build up sexual intensity by directing you the next steps. You don't need to worry about anything Frank. Just get ready for the greatest pleasure you'll ever experience in your life. Eat well and save as much energy for me for that big day, you lucky bastard!"

Hearing all these dirty talks, Frank felt like being spun around in a crazy swirl of cloudy dreams.

He was very surprised when he heard himself saying, "What do we do if she refuses?"

"Come on Frank. Look at the situation she is in. Does she look like someone who can afford to refuse our offer?"

"She is all ours, Frank. Trust me."

"Let me handle this delicate situation, Frank. You'll like the result."

Again, Frank was surprised when he found himself grabbing his wife and started kissing her. Very passionately.

"So, you do want to fuck your mother after all, huh?" Teased his wife.

Without saying a word, Frank dragged his wife to their bedroom, furiously lifting her skirt and fumbling to take off her panties. He started fucking her like a dog.

"Fuck your mother, Frank!" Liz incited.

"My husband is in jail. Nobody will ever find out what goes on here."

"Stick that cock into my vagina."

Once again, Frank was surprised when he found himself uttering,

"Hi Mother. I love you."

"I would like to get you pregnant today."

"Bear me a nice daughter for me, mother. I bet she will be as cute as you."

"Are you gonna take her when she grows up?" Liz further incited.

"Of course, mother. I'm gonna fuck her the first night she turns 18." Frank claimed in an excited voice.

"Make me a woman tonite." Liz whispered into Frank.

"I want to be fucked like a cheap whore."

"I want you to seed my belly with your child tonite."

"I want to come hard."

"And don't call me mother."

"I'm Sherry tonite."

"That's exactly what I was thinking, Mrs. Sherry Worthington!"

"Open your legs and leave your pumps on." Commanded Frank excitedly.

That evening, Frank and Liz enjoyed the best sex of their life.

Well, at least until that big day they were planning for themselves any way...