Malcolm was sleeping, flat on his back on the bed, head turned to the right side on the pillow, sheet drawn up to his chin. My balls stirred with desire, the dark, handsome guy looking so peaceful and innocent, fucking hot.
Malcolm and I had been going together for only a couple of months. But he’d already given me his key. And I’d used it, to let myself in early that morning. To observe the luscious liquorice man sleeping. It’s a fetish I have, watching men sleep, kissing them, licking them, fondling them, fucking them while they sleep. A man’s never so beautiful than when he’s at peace with the world, nestled in the warm, comforting arms of slumber.
I hadn’t mentioned my mancolepsy to Malcolm. This was my first chance to give him a try.
I slipped off my T-shirt and kicked off my shoes, unbuckled my jeans and pushed them down and off. I stepped out into the warm yellow early-morning glow of Malcolm’s bedroom completely naked, my cock stretched rock-hard in front of me, gleaming dark and smooth and long as my boyfriend’s body stretched undercover out on the bed.
I gripped shaft and buckled at the knees, suppressing a moan, my meat throbbing wildly in my palm. I stroked, caressing snake, watching the perfect rising and falling of Malcolm’s chest, the twin points of his nipples indenting the thin cotton sheet, the rigid outline of his form.
Savouring the exquisite moment, I jacked slow and sure and strong, slipped a hand up onto my chest, clasped fingers around a stiffened nipple and rolled. I had to swallow another groan of pleasure, pulling on my cock, pulling on my nipple. I plucked at the other nipple, got that black bud up and brimming, then slid my free hand down my body and around my erection and on to my balls.
I cupped and squeezed and twisted my shaven sac, tugging on my smooth-skinned dong. I bent almost double under the illicit sexual pressure, working the nuts, the pole. And then I advanced, cock leading the way.
The shag hid my footsteps. I stood right next to the bed, cock jutting out in the warm, breathless air, straining to overshadow Malcolm’s calm, chiselled face. I reached out and gripped the top of the sheet, drew it slowly down.
More and more of the lean, muscled man appeared, the white curtain lowering on his ebony body, sliding down his chest, popping over his nipples. I stared at those blue-black buds and licked my lips, almost tasting their thick, rubbery firmness.
Malcolm’s arms were down by his sides, and as I pulled the sheet lower, over his flat, hard, undulating stomach, he clenched at the edges, grabbing onto the reinforced cotton. ‘Damn,’ I breathed, stopped just above his bellybutton.
I knew the guy slept in the buff, but the way his hips were turned slightly, his cock wasn’t even a bulge in the sheet. I had to do something about that. If I couldn’t see it, I could feel it.
I climbed onto the bed, slowly, carefully, stealthily, a spring-whisperer extraordinaire. There was hardly any sound at all. Just the smooth, uninterrupted breathing of my man, the pounding of my heart in my chest and the beating of the blood in my cock.
I straddled Malcolm’s narrow waist, standing up on my knees, not touching the sleeping dawg. My cock speared out over him, and I gave it a few brisk, loving tugs, feeling the heat of Malcolm’s body so close, smelling the musky scent of the hot-blooded man.
His nipples were just too good to resist. I lowered my silky fingers and softly traced circles around the pebbled areolas, as delicate as twin feathers. Malcolm smacked his lips and thrust his chin up, arched his muscle-humped chest. But his eyelids stayed firmly closed. I lowered my head in place of my fingers and slid out the glistening pink length of my tongue and tapped one of Malcolm’s buds with the tip.
He grunted, his night-shaded nipples swelling up thicker, higher. I tickled the other pointed protuberance with my tongue, breathing hot, humid breath all over it. Then I withdrew my sticker and pushed out my lips, softly kissing one of the buds, the other, cushioning a nipple between my lips and oh-so-gently tugging.
Another grunt, a turn of the head. I nursed on Malcolm’s other nipple. The pair soon shone wet and rigid with my loving. I nipped one with my teeth and then drew back. Something else had swelled up now – in between Malcolm’s legs.
I cautiously kneed my way up higher on the bed, almost over the top of Malcolm’s head. Then I lifted my right leg, swung it around, rotating my body. My left knee slid onto the pillow next to Malcolm’s slumbering head, right knee planting down on the other side.
It was a delicate manoeuvre, but I’m a pretty delicate guy; except for that swelled-up appendage in between my legs, of course. I let it hang down to Malcolm’s face, bloated hood taking the warm, even breath from his mouth. As I faced his own swelling cock in the sheet.
He’d moved his hips flat now, so that I could clearly see his outlined dick trailing down his right thigh. I knew just how big that member could get, and I vowed to get it up and coursing full-length, as my man slept.
I traced a finger over the thin cotton, from the base of Malcolm’s cock to the tip. I could feel the rugged veins and the meat of the shaft, the lip and thickness of the hood, all through my finger and up my arm and into my dick. Malcolm caressed my cap with his heated exhalations, his cock twitching, expanding, as I finger-stroked up and down.
One finger quickly wasn’t enough to encapture all of the ballooning dong. I leant it a hand, grasping shaft through sheet, feeling the pulse, the heft, pumping warm and damp and even. Malcolm sighed and thrust his hips upwards, his beefy cock filling my clutching, shifting hand.
The big guy was as easily aroused as I was, and when aroused, even bigger. His prick surged out down his thigh, stretching long and meaty under my moving hand. I had him stroked out to his full fearsome potent potential in a matter of moments, his cock consciously taking what his mind could only dream about.
I gripped his dong with both hands and squeezed, lowering my hips so that my raging cock kissed parted lips with mushroomed hood. Malcolm stuck out his tongue, wetting his lips, and my slit. I barely caught the moan in my throat. Then I kissed Malcolm’s massive cap through the sheet, french-style.
He gave voice to what I was feeling – a groan of pleasure. Still asleep, but so awake and alert between his legs. I gripped his dick at the wide base and licked up and down the tree trunk shaft, bumping my own hood up and down on Malcolm’s cushioning lips.
His hot breath flooded my groin, faster now. I curled my lips around the swollen, sheeted bulge of his cap and sucked gently through the threads. As I dipped hood into Malcolm’s partially-open mouth, shuddering when I hit wet tongue.
His mouth opened up wider, to make room for his breathing and my cockhead. I lowered half my cap inside, the silky slide of his lips, the hot, damp touch of his tongue, making me quiver all over. I held onto his wood for dear life, daring to go deeper, sinking my entire hood inside his mouth and then basking in the wet-velvet heat.
His mouth closed on my cap, lips sealing, sucking.
‘Fuck!’ I groaned.
The guy had taken to my cockhead like a baby to a mother’s nipple. He was still asleep, but he was sucking on my hood. I slid my lips up and down his dong, giving him the best blowjob I could under the covered circumstances. My body and brain burned with the awesome eroticism of it all, that earnest pull on the tip of my cock.
It couldn’t last. I couldn’t last. It had gone even further than I’d imagined, even given my fine-tuned skills as a sexual dream-weaver.
But it was Malcolm who went off first. His cock jumped under my stroking lips and swabbing tongue, the tremendous shaft surging come-hard – the cock coming. Semen spurted out, staining the sheet, burst after burst, Malcolm pumping out his unconscious ecstasy. My head went even dizzier, tasting the shooting sperm through the cotton, smelling the heated ball juice. My own cock jerked, and a shudder of sheer delight ran the length of my trembling body.
I just managed to pop my top free of Malcolm’s plush lips and shift my cock over, using the last quivering ounce of my willpower. So that my jets of joy splashed the pillow, didn’t drown the guy in a heated sea of jizz.
The only thing tougher than getting Malcolm and myself off while he slept, was getting that bed linen off and washed clean before he woke up.
It was a dream, a warm, lush, beautiful dream. I was in Malcolm’s bed. Malcolm was caressing my bare butt cheeks with his strong, wide-palmed hands, spooning in behind me. He was naked. I was naked. His smooth, rubbing palms and long, stroking fingers felt so very good on the tingling skin of my buttocks.
‘Yes,’ I moaned, thrusting out my mounded backside.
Malcolm cupped the packed pair, squeezed them, his hot breath filling my ear. He licked in behind my ear, and I shuddered, shivering my cheeks in his hands.
‘Frot me, big guy,’ I murmured.
He bit into my earlobe, liking the idea. But I liked his idea just as much.
Because he squirmed down behind me in the bed, got butt-level, his face facing my ass. His hands spread my cheeks and his tongue shot in to fill the gap, stroke my crack all wet and wonderful and wickedly sensuous.
I jerked with pure delight, the damp, budded sensation of his tongue on the tender skin of my butt cleavage amazing. He licked again, and again, lapping my crack, tonguing me from balls to tailbone, over and over.
My cock boned out full-length, vibratingly erect. Each long, moist tongue-stroke flooded shimmering heat all through my body. And when Malcolm corkscrewed the tip of his mouth-organ all around my pucker, I knew I was in heaven.
We hadn’t done much ass play in our relationship so far. But to sleep is perchance to dream.
Malcolm proved an expert in the art of eating ass. He squirmed his slippery sticker all around my manhole. Then he pushed and pulled my cheeks as wide as he could manage, really opening me up, thrusting his tongue right inside, plugging me full of erotic pleasure. He hardened his tongue into a pink blade and jabbed it in and out, fucking my anus.
I undulated my bottom, taking it and loving it. Malcolm poked deeper, filling my chute, his tongue wet and hot and alive inside me, plunging me to a whole new depth of sexual sensation.
I groaned with despair when he finally, slowly drew his sticker back out of my ass. But he quickly filled the void, squirming back up in behind me and sliding his slab of beef into the slickened chasm of my butt cleavage. I moaned, his massive dong cramming up between my cheeks, gliding along the over sensitized skin of my butt crack.
He was pronged out as long and thick as his huge tool would go, I could feel it, all through my ass and body. He let go of my cheeks, spilling the tingling flesh over his dick, locking his cock down tight. I gripped it even tighter with my buttocks, revelling in the wicked sensation of all that dong lodged along my ass crack, pumping my bum cleavage.
This was one wild dream, brought on by our torrid night of lovemaking earlier, no doubt. Malcolm gripped my shoulders and pumped his hips, frotting back and forth in my crack. I blazed with passion, my ass on fire, the slide of the man’s massive sledge between my cheeks simply awesome.
Malcolm and I had never gone anal before. ‘Fuck my ass, Malcolm,’ I breathed now. ‘Pull that huge dong of yours out of my crack and stick it in my ass. Fuck me!’ In dreams, anything was possible.
Malcolm swirled his tongue around in my ear, shunted his cock in my crack. Before pulling back, out. I spasmed when I felt the cool mist of lube, shivered when I felt Malcolm’s fingers smoothing the slipperiness into my cleavage, smearing it all around my pucker. I held my breath.
Bloated hood bumped up against my manhole. ‘Yes, Malcolm! Stick me! Fuck me!’
His grunt came loud and clear and dripping with lust in my ear. His cap pressed harder against my starfish, squished through, in, busting my ring and bursting into my anus. I bit my lip, trembling body and soul.
He pressed his advantage home, breathing hard, squeezing his ebony snake into my chute. Inch after swollen inch plowed inside my ass, stretching my walls and blowing my subconscious mind. My butt swelled with cock, my body with electric sensation.
‘Fuck, I’m buried inside you! Balls to the booty!’ Malcolm hissed in my ear.
He didn’t have to tell me. I could feel every engorged, throbbing inch of his powerful prick, stuffing my ass and my dreams. ‘Fuck me, Malcolm!’ I pleaded.
His hands went damp on my shoulders, his breath coming in gasps, his body burning against mine. We were joined in the most intimate, manly manner possible – at the cock and chute. Malcolm shifted his hips, pumping my anus.
I pushed back, helping the man along, helping him saw my ass with his log. ‘Fuck!’ he grunted, feeling it almost as much as I did.
The bed creaked, we groaned, the pressure building and building. It felt like my ass would explode with all of that cock surging back and forth, hammering away at my backdoor. My own cock jutted out from my loins, brimming with feeling, and precome. Malcolm reached around and gripped it, ripped it, pumping in rhythm to his own cock pumping my anus.
It felt so real, so intense. My balls boiled, my butt ablaze, my cock about to explode.
I blinked my eyes open. Just as Malcolm yelled, ‘Fuck! I’m gonna come!’ He yanked on my cock, pounding into my chute from behind.
It was no dream! It was really happening! The full radical realization of it dawned on me. Just as I jerked, spurted semen out of my hand-jacked cock. As Malcolm spasmed, shot white-hot sperm deep into my bowels.
I stared unblinking at the morning sun-glowed curtains, blasting blistering orgasm out of my ruptured cock, taking sizzling orgasm up my reamed ass from Malcolm’s detonated dong.
The guy later confessed it’d always been a fantasy of his to make love to a man while he slept. He hoped I wasn’t too upset by his imposing on me like that?
Who says dreams don’t come true?