Sleepy Stories For Adults Novels & Stories

I began, my voice shaking a little at first. “It started about a year ago and it just keeps getting worse. I get these waves of uncontrollable arousal all the time, even when I’m not thinking about sex at all. My pussy just starts getting wet, really fucking wet, like I’m in heat or something. Sometimes I’m sitting in class trying to focus on a lecture and suddenly I feel it start dripping down my thighs. I have to excuse myself and run to the bathroom just to wipe up or change my panties before it soaks through my clothes. And the wet dreams… every single night. I wake up humping my pillow like a desperate little slut, sheets completely soaked underneath me, my clit throbbing so hard it act

he murmured, writing it like it was a mission objective. She watched him. Focused. Serious. Intent. Like a determined father trying to memorize a world he had missed. “And he likes stories before sleeping,” she added softly. Reid paused at that. “What kind?” “Adventures. Brave heroes. Silly monsters. Anything where someone protects someone else.” He nodded slowly and wrote: Bedtime stories – protective theme. The room felt different now. Not heavy. Not tense. But quiet. “You already had lists for me too?” she asked after a moment.

Tonight was our first official sleepover in the treehouse, and we'd dragged up sleeping bags, flashlights, and enough snacks to last a week. "Tell me a scary story," Avy said, settling into her sleeping bag. "I don't know any scary stories." "Make one up." "Okay, um..." I pointed my flashlight at my face for dramatic effect. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who read so many books that her eyes fell out." "That's not scary, that's stupid." "Fine. There was a boy who was so bad at football that the football grew teeth and ate him." Avy giggled. "You're terrible at this."

Marcus just chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Wait till you're older." That night, after the kids were asleep, Sarah found herself pinned between Adam and Marcus in their bed, Jeff's mouth working a bruise into her thigh. "Thought we were done?" she gasped as Adam's teeth grazed her collarbone. Jeff's laugh was dark. "Never." Lia's voice crackled through the baby monitor...."Daddy, I had a bad dream." Marcus rolled off with a sigh, but not before palming Sarah's breast.

he said softly. He sat on the edge of the bed, his voice low and steady as he began. The story wasn’t anything complicated. Just something simple. Something about a wolf who got lost and found his way back home. But the way he told it— The way the kids listened— It did something to the room. Something I wasn’t ready to name. By the time he finished, all three of them were asleep. Peacefully. Together. I stood there for a moment, watching them. Then turned.

I ordered pizza for us and as they gamed, I fired up the laptop in my bedroom, curious to read the stories he'd been stroking to yesterday. As I read story after story, I was shocked both at the content of the stories and by what these stories were doing to me. My pussy was on fire, and my left hand slowly pleasured myself as I read each incestuous story. Some of the stories had dominant sons seducing their mothers, while others had powerful daughters dominating their mothers, while still others were more intimate and egalitarian in the sexual relationships between sons and mothers. I'd never even remotely considered my children in a sexual way, but yesterday's events of my son's masturbatio

BEFORE YOU READ Nobody is coming to save you. Themes: Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Size Difference, Breeding Kink. This story features a possessive, reclusive hero who hasn't seen a woman in years. Expect primal play, rough sex, and intense possessiveness. (***) Gabrielle

“We’ll stay until you fall asleep.” Liam lies back down, his little hand reaching out to grab mine. I sit on his other side, smoothing the blanket over him. “Daddy, tell me a story,” he mumbles, his voice already heavy with sleep. Jason chuckles softly, leaning down. “Once upon a time, there was a brave little wolf who loved his Mommy and Daddy very much but was scared to sleep alone in his bed...” By the time Jason finishes the short tale, Liam is breathing evenly, lost in dreams. Jason glances at me, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s out.”

Through stories, through silence, through drawings left like breadcrumbs in the night. I didn’t sleep right away. I sat up with the map in my hands, the soft snores of Mera carrying through the walls, and Aaron’s bedroom door shut but not locked. I remembered the way he used to sleep as a baby — one hand curled against his cheek, a faint whimper when the blankets got too warm and I thought about the woman who’d watched him grow in my place. The bedtime stories she told. The lies she fed him wrapped in gold ribbons.

Andrew opened the children's storybook and started reading. "A long time ago..." Andrew's voice was low, smooth, and magnetic, like a cello in the quiet night. Initially, Asher listened with wide curious eyes as his dad narrated the story, but as he listened, his eyelids began to grow heavy. By the time one book was finished, the baby had already fallen asleep. Sleeping babies were the cutest, with their round chubby faces, slightly pursed red lips, and long eyelashes covering their eyes. Their pure sleeping faces hinted faintly of their mothers.