Erotic Sleep Stories Novels & Stories

“Okay. So how do I even start?” “Like any other conversation. Start slow. Let it simmer. You don’t go straight for the clit, right? You tease, you build it up. Do the same here. You could start with the classic ‘what are you wearing’ line, but if you want something that really works… tell a story.” “Story?” she echoed. “You mean, like, read erotica?” “No, I mean tell him something from your life. Something hot, or something that could have been hot if it’d gone just a little further. Something real—then spice it up. Let your imagination play with the memory.”

He'd made her orgasm like a fucking ocean and she'd fallen asleep from the intensity and the strain of the party and using her powers. She'd woken up to the chill of the night, and when she realized that he wasn't in bed beside her, she'd gone looking for him only to meet such an erotic scene. Odessa walked into the room and closed the door gently behind her, she twisted the knob making sure it was locked and walked towards her beautifully erotic mate. His dick was hard, his hands were rubbing furiously, he was leaking precum badly, his eyes were tightly shut and his veins appeared to be popping out of his head.

Kinks: Sleepy sex, somnophilia (consensual), edging, soft domination The room was bathed in shadows, the only light coming from the dim streetlamp outside, casting faint lines across the bedspread. Everything else was quiet, wrapped in a calm so thick it felt almost alive. She lay on the soft mattress, her body still and warm beneath the thin cotton sheet. The vibrator hummed softly between her thighs, its steady pulse a gentle reminder of the pleasure lingering just beneath the surface of sleep.

Not wanting to be bothered by any more useless remarks, he took off his clothes and went to bed. That night he was restless. He was having a vivid dream of him and Ruby together in bed. How he kissed her and held her beautiful face in his hand. It felt so real as if he was holding her in his arms. How she groaned and moaned from the pleasure of their sex. Embracing her as he ejaculate inside of her. Eric woke up and felt wet. "Damn it!" grunted Eric. He changed his clothes and bed sheet. After getting on some clean clothes, he tried to go back to sleep.

My eyes were heavy and I couldn't control the sleep that overtook me anymore. When I opened my eyes, still sleepy, I saw him lying on the bed. The position with one arm behind the head and the other on the chest was classic. She'd seen him like this before, when she'd sneaked into his room. While I was at his house, I found myself visiting his room at night a few times. Ric talked in his sleep and it was addicting to watch him dream about me. His body gave signals at the same time of his nightly desire. I often wanted to touch him. I knew he slept naked. I saw his chest rising and falling and it turned me on. Only a sheet covered his private parts and I wanted to touch him, but I controlled

It looked like he was getting out of bed. “No,” I whispered as I pulled him back to me. He gave no resistance as he lowered his body back onto the mattress and held me close. The habit that Max had instilled within me of having sex while half asleep came forth. After I stealthily removed my bra and panties, an erotic anticipation flooded every inch of me. When I seductively fondled him, I could feel his body briefly stiffen before he gave in to temptation and made sweet, passionate love to every inch of me. In his usual vampire fashion, he repeated the act multiple times. In my usual greedy way, I loved every minute of it.

"Oh, if he knows what's gonna happen to you in our bed tonight, he will call it an erotic story." There he goes again with a promise of pleasure.

What our story is, from what I myself have just said, I already have the answer, but I wanted to hear from his lips, to know what he thought our story was. "I'm the one asking you that question, Ethan!"--- I take my cup.--- "What our story is to you." "An erotic, almost sexual poem."--- He begins to answer.--- "It is short like a poem, where most of what it tells you is about that, sex. But not just any sex, one that you forget after a few minutes. One that is remarkable, with orgasms so powerful they take you to the moon with such. They are remarkable moments despite everything, despite the short time you have together. You will know that it will soon be over, but you will remember every mo

“I love it when you flatter me.” He picked up speed going harder and faster. The bed creaked under us, the headboard hitting the wall in steady rhythm. I didn’t care who heard. Sarah’s room was beside mine. She’d ask questions tomorrow, but for now, I didn’t care. I hadn’t seen Alex for years. I wasn’t going to try and stay quiet now. His hand slid between us, his thumb finding my clit again, rubbing tight circles in rhythm with his thrusts. The dual sensation was too much. Too good. I clenched around him, already feeling that familiar pressure again.

I came hard, biting my lip to stay quiet, his shirt still pressed against my nose. After that night, it became a dangerous routine. Every evening while he was away, I would sneak into his bedroom. I touched myself on his chair. Against his desk. Standing by his window. Each time I imagined him catching me. Each time I came harder than the last. Tonight was supposed to be the final time. Tomorrow he would return, and I swore to myself I would stop this madness. I couldn’t keep risking everything. I crept into his room, heart racing with excitement and guilt. This time, I didn’t stop at the wardrobe. I climbed onto his massive bed — something I had never dared to do before. The silk sheets fel