angela146
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 29, 2003
- Posts
- 1,347
[Sorry, this is a very convoluted story, but if I try to edit it, I won't have the nerve to keep it the way it is.]
Hubby and I like to touch each other while one or both of us are asleep. We've been doing it long enough that either or both us are able to sleep through it if we want to.
But sometimes we wake up. And occasionally, we wake up in mid fuck.
Last night, we were both exhausted and both horny. We drifted off to sleep in each other's arms with our hands making feeble attempts to get something started.
A couple of hours later, I was having a really good dream that involved Bobby Flay with stuffed manicotti as the "secret ingredient" (you would have to watch "Iron Chef" to get that reference).
As I started to wake up, Bobby turned into my husband, Bill (there's actually a pretty good resemblance). He was on top of me, inside me (at both ends), and having some kind of a good dream of his own.
In that half-awake state, he seemed convinced that whoever he was screwing was trying to get away from him. He grabbed my arms, pinned me down and started doing it really hard.
Still half asleep myself, I thrust myself against him, trying to get the manicotti even deeper inside me and wondering why it wasn't Mario Batali (and then realizing that he would be too heavy).
The more I woke up, the more I struggled, not because I wanted him to stop, but because I wanted him to keep going - and wondering if he could reach a wooden spoon to use on me.
That's when we both woke up.
For a moment, we were disoriented. The house smelled like tomato sauce and baked mozzarella (not unusual since I'm half Italian and so is my cooking) and Bill's tongue was half way down my throat.
There was nothing "half way" about the part that was in the other end of me.
We quickly sized up the situation and went right back at it. Bill started to rape me in earnest (because he could) and I fought him, knowing it would make him more violent.
He hurt me. I screamed, and thrust my hips at him so he would slam harder into me. I turned my head away.
He let go of one arm long enough to slap me across the face, once in each direction, then forced my mouth back toward him so he could get back inside.
I bit him - both his tongue and his lips - and got carried away enough to bonk him in the face with my forehead.
What followed was one of the most mind-blowing, uninhibited, violent, dangerous fuck-frenzies we've ever had. We both ended up with bruises all over the place, but nothing was broken or seriously damaged.
Bill had to take a sick day today to heal the teeth-marks, scratches and the shiner on the underside of his cheekbone. He got ice on it fast enough that he'll hopefully look somewhat respectable tomorrow - or at least by Thursday (oops, tomorrow *is* Thursday, my time sense is off).
Thankfully, I'm on a project at the moment where I can work from home. I don't have to show my face (or wrists or arms or neck) in public for a while.
Bill's dream: for some reason, he was married to a girl he knew in high-school. She told him that she wanted a divorce because she found out that he was sleeping around with me.
He was really pissed off and knew it was the last time he was going to fuck her. He made it good.
Once he woke up, he kept going from the sense of euphoria - and the fact that I was egging him on. He knows I like it rough. He gave me what I wanted and allowed himself to enjoy it.
He can't normally let go that way with me.
I just made some stuffed shells with marinara sauce for breakfast (no manicotti in the pantry, damn it). It should be done in another ten minutes.
I used two wooden spoons to stir the sauce and the filling. I'm going to put them on the tray (still dripping with sauce) when I take it all into the bedroom. It will be too hot to eat at first, but a good blow job will pass the time. He's earned it.
Then Bill's gets to figure out something fun to do with the spoons.
You might be wondering how much of this is true...
HA! You should see what I left out!
Hubby and I like to touch each other while one or both of us are asleep. We've been doing it long enough that either or both us are able to sleep through it if we want to.
But sometimes we wake up. And occasionally, we wake up in mid fuck.
Last night, we were both exhausted and both horny. We drifted off to sleep in each other's arms with our hands making feeble attempts to get something started.
A couple of hours later, I was having a really good dream that involved Bobby Flay with stuffed manicotti as the "secret ingredient" (you would have to watch "Iron Chef" to get that reference).
As I started to wake up, Bobby turned into my husband, Bill (there's actually a pretty good resemblance). He was on top of me, inside me (at both ends), and having some kind of a good dream of his own.
In that half-awake state, he seemed convinced that whoever he was screwing was trying to get away from him. He grabbed my arms, pinned me down and started doing it really hard.
Still half asleep myself, I thrust myself against him, trying to get the manicotti even deeper inside me and wondering why it wasn't Mario Batali (and then realizing that he would be too heavy).
The more I woke up, the more I struggled, not because I wanted him to stop, but because I wanted him to keep going - and wondering if he could reach a wooden spoon to use on me.
That's when we both woke up.
For a moment, we were disoriented. The house smelled like tomato sauce and baked mozzarella (not unusual since I'm half Italian and so is my cooking) and Bill's tongue was half way down my throat.
There was nothing "half way" about the part that was in the other end of me.
We quickly sized up the situation and went right back at it. Bill started to rape me in earnest (because he could) and I fought him, knowing it would make him more violent.
He hurt me. I screamed, and thrust my hips at him so he would slam harder into me. I turned my head away.
He let go of one arm long enough to slap me across the face, once in each direction, then forced my mouth back toward him so he could get back inside.
I bit him - both his tongue and his lips - and got carried away enough to bonk him in the face with my forehead.
What followed was one of the most mind-blowing, uninhibited, violent, dangerous fuck-frenzies we've ever had. We both ended up with bruises all over the place, but nothing was broken or seriously damaged.
Bill had to take a sick day today to heal the teeth-marks, scratches and the shiner on the underside of his cheekbone. He got ice on it fast enough that he'll hopefully look somewhat respectable tomorrow - or at least by Thursday (oops, tomorrow *is* Thursday, my time sense is off).
Thankfully, I'm on a project at the moment where I can work from home. I don't have to show my face (or wrists or arms or neck) in public for a while.
Bill's dream: for some reason, he was married to a girl he knew in high-school. She told him that she wanted a divorce because she found out that he was sleeping around with me.
He was really pissed off and knew it was the last time he was going to fuck her. He made it good.
Once he woke up, he kept going from the sense of euphoria - and the fact that I was egging him on. He knows I like it rough. He gave me what I wanted and allowed himself to enjoy it.
He can't normally let go that way with me.
I just made some stuffed shells with marinara sauce for breakfast (no manicotti in the pantry, damn it). It should be done in another ten minutes.
I used two wooden spoons to stir the sauce and the filling. I'm going to put them on the tray (still dripping with sauce) when I take it all into the bedroom. It will be too hot to eat at first, but a good blow job will pass the time. He's earned it.
Then Bill's gets to figure out something fun to do with the spoons.
You might be wondering how much of this is true...
HA! You should see what I left out!
lucky girl 
