Phantxm

Focused on the little changes in your expression, heat curling in his stomach when your night gown refuses to stay in place. He feels guilty. It’s not like you could choose what you dreamt about or how you reacted. It was shameful for him to be getting off to the sounds you made.

That same turmoil starts eating him alive when you roll over. Now on your side, your leg thrown across his lap, your cunt is snug against the side of his thigh. You’re moaning into his shoulder, your hand balled against his chest.

It doesn’t help that you’re literally rutting into him either. His boxers ride up, and he can feel how wet you are, the thin fabric of your underwear soaked through. He’s frozen on the spot, cock throbbing on his thigh. And his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when the next thing you moan is his name.

He should be a good friend. He should wake you up and lie. Tell you that you were just having a nightmare, save you the embarrassment and move on.

But his selfishness wins.

Tim maneuvers you on top of him, making you straddle his hips. You want him, you want him bad enough to hump him in your sleep. At least that’s how he justifies it.

Your face is buried in his neck, your body rocking back and forth. Clumsy grinding, with your folds slotting over his length. Even through the layers, it’s enough, and his head tips back, mind hazy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, palms settling on your waist. His gaze is half lidded when he starts rocking up into you. The bedroom temperature spikes, and nothing but quiet pants fill the air. The pleasure is muted, prolonged- having him dribble pre against his stomach.

The bed squeaks a bit, his feet planting on the mattress for more leverage. Somewhere along the way, your panties had slipped to the side, and the second he thrusts, his cockhead nudges inside by an inch. The fabric of his boxers stretch, drenched in your mixed arousal as he bounces you a bit.

He’s fucking you with just the tip, feeling your pussy through the cotton. It’s too good to stop, and his breathing grows shallow. The squelching is obvious, lewd enough to make him twitch. He pulls out after a minute, reaching down blindly to free his cock before lining up with your cunt once more.

The satisfied groan that leaves him when he sinks inside balls deep rumbles in his chest. Eyes rolling back then scrunching shut. You blink drowsily two thrusts in, slurring. “Mm, Tim?” The sensations catch up to you only a moment later, and you arch sharply, mewling.

The stimulation up till this point crashes into you all at once, and you clamp around him, lips forming an ‘O.

You rock against his base desperately, limbs still heavy with sleep. The coil snaps, and you writhe over him, jolting as you cum. Tim bucks once, twice, his teeth grit. “Hah- shit. Sorry, baby.” He fills you to brim, gluey-white spend leaking out of your pussy. You swallow thickly. Dragging your head up and molding your lips together.

His fingers are digging into your waist, rough as you whine into his mouth. The friction on your clit makes you squirm, your slick gathering at his hilt, dripping down his balls. It’s disgustingly messy, and he snaps his hips into you.

The drag of his cock is so addictive it makes your brain melt. Heavy inside your tunnel, stretching you with each thrust. You claw at his shoulders, drooling while he pumps in and out. Sticky plaps bounce off the walls, entwining with your breathy moans and Tim’s low grunts—