Falling Into Darkness

I was falling. I screamed for help, but the faces watching me were a blur, devoid of concern. It all went dark, a suffocating silence descending as the world spun away from me. Then, a jolt, a sudden return to consciousness. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the lingering echo of the terror. Only five minutes had passed since I’d drifted off, yet the nightmare clung to me like a second skin, raw and insistent. I rarely experienced nightmares, but when they did, they were always cataclysmic, leaving a residue of fear that took a long time to shake off.

As I struggled to make sense of the experience, a warm hand settled on my chest, anchoring me back to reality. It was Sarah, my wife, her presence a soothing balm against the lingering panic.

“Rough one, huh?” she murmured, pulling me closer, her body a comforting weight against mine.

I didn’t respond, unable to articulate the sheer intensity of the terror. I’d always avoided sharing my nightmares with her, feeling a primal need to protect her from the darkness within me. But she knew. Somehow, she always knew. When I succumbed to the terror, the only solace I found was in wrapping myself around her, seeking refuge in her warmth and safety. It was the only way to navigate back to the shores of sleep.

“How did you know I was having a nightmare?” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“I heard your cries, your desperate pleas for help,” she giggled softly, a playful sound that cut through the lingering fear. “Luckily for you, I didn’t hear any other names, no whispers of another woman, because that’s when the real nightmare would have begun.”

Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, down my chest, over my stomach, and beneath my pajama bottoms, her touch sending shivers through my body. “The nightmares aren’t real, darling,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear, “they can’t hurt you. But this,” she squeezed my penis, her fingers digging in, “and the love I feel for you… that’s undeniably real.”

The sensation was immediate, undeniable. My body reacted instinctively, the muscles in my lower abdomen tightening as my member began to swell, pushing against the confines of my pajama shorts. Sarah continued her exploration, her hand gliding across my groin, her touch both gentle and insistent. It didn't take long before my penis was fully erect, a rigid cylinder protruding through the fabric, a stark reminder of the potent arousal she was igniting.

Her hand moved upward, tracing the length of my shaft with exquisite care, allowing me to revel in the exquisite pleasure. Her tenderness, her consideration, chased away the last vestiges of the nightmare, replacing it with a burgeoning sense of anticipation.

She looked up at me, her blue eyes filled with a knowing warmth, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience. “Well, it looks like somebody’s wide awake now,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Without a word, I pulled her face closer, pressing my lips against hers in a desperate, passionate kiss. She responded in kind, her hand still firmly planted on my erect member. As I reached for her breasts, she gently pulled away, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge.

“Not tonight,” she whispered, her voice laced with a seductive promise. “This is just about you, about the release, the pleasure you crave.”

With that, she slid further down the bed, positioning herself between my legs, her body a perfect fit against my arousal. As my wife took my penis into her mouth, the sensation was overwhelming, a shockwave that resonated through every nerve ending in my body. My hips rose in response, instinctively seeking her embrace, as she used one hand to massage my balls and the other to stroke my member. Her tongue danced across the sensitive flesh, a tantalizing exploration that built anticipation with each passing moment. I could see her head bob slightly, her lips moving rhythmically as she worked her way up my shaft. The scent of her arousal filled the air, intoxicating and primal.

My breath grew ragged as I lost myself in the sensation, my hands rising to her arms, pulling her hair, tracing the delicate curve of her spine before descending to her buttocks. The touch ignited a fire within me, a burning desire that threatened to consume me entirely. She shivered, a small, involuntary reaction to the escalating pleasure, and her right hand instinctively reached for her right nipple.

As she continued her exploration, her movements became more frenzied, faster and shorter, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure through my body. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a symphony of sensations that left me breathless and yearning for more. Her moans, soft at first, grew louder, more insistent, as she leaned deeper into my embrace, her body shaking with the intensity of her arousal.

The heat intensified, the desire reaching its peak as we both succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure. My hands tightened their grip, drawing her closer, while her own movements became more desperate, more urgent. It felt like time had stopped, the world outside fading into insignificance as we plunged deeper into the depths of our shared pleasure.

Finally, with a final, explosive release, I let out a guttural cry, my muscles clenching in ecstasy. The pleasure washed over me, leaving me weak and spent, yet utterly satisfied. Once we had recovered, my wife snuggled against me, her body relaxed and content.

“I bet you don’t have any dreams as good as this,” she murmured, her voice husky with pleasure.

I lifted my head, gazing into her eyes, and smiled. “Only if you’re in them,” I whispered, nuzzling into her hair.

A giggle escaped her lips. “You’re such a schmoozer,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

She leaned down and we exchanged a passionate kiss, our lips meeting with a desperate hunger. I rose my hips, pushing my erect member further into her embrace, seeking to prolong the intense pleasure. She reciprocated, grinding her hips against mine, our bodies locked in a rhythm of passion and desire.

Her hand moved downward, tracing the length of my shaft with exquisite care, her touch igniting a fresh wave of pleasure. We continued our dance of dominance and submission, each movement building upon the last, until we reached the crescendo of our shared pleasure.

Once we had reached the peak, my wife leaned back, her body relaxing against mine. The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating her face, her eyes filled with a look of pure contentment. I held her close, savoring the lingering sensations, the memory of the exquisite pleasure we had just experienced.

As I looked into her eyes, I knew that this was more than just a physical encounter; it was a connection, a shared experience that had transcended the boundaries of the physical. It was a reminder of the power of love, the intensity of desire, and the joy of losing oneself in the moment.

“I plan to make sure all of your dreams are sweet,” she whispered, her voice filled with a promise of future delights. And as I drifted off to sleep, I knew that her words held a profound truth. The nightmares were gone, replaced by the sweet, intoxicating memory of the pleasure we had shared, a testament to the power of love and the enduring beauty of our connection.

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Falling Into Darkness

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