Shadow Sex

I want to tell you all about this dream I had. I need to tell someone, so I can hear it for myself, to see if I sound as crazy as I think I do. Because this dream, it scared the shit out of me.

There wasn't anything special about that night, or the whole day for that matter. Work during the day, dinner and a couple beers in front of the tv at night.

After a few hours of re-runs on tv, episodes of Big Bang Blonde Tits or some shit, I was starting to feel tired. Around midnight I decided to head to bed. So, getting up off the couch I turn off the tv and head to my bedroom. It's just your typical bedroom, dresser on the left-side wall next to the closet. Queen size bed with small table next to it. Lamp on the table. Keys, wallet, and phone set down next to the lamp. Window on the far-side of the room.

But that's not what you're interested in hearing about. You want to know why the hell I'm even talking about this. I'll get to it then.

I was sleeping soundly, having fallen asleep soon after laying my head on the pillow. For some reason, I woke up in the middle of the night. Checking my phone, it was 3:33am, and there was something not quite right about my room. Everything seemed hazy, the darkness of the room seemed so...foreboding. Looking around the room, I started to get that prickly, tingling feeling across my scalp. Goosebumps raising on my forearms. I actually shivered under the covers. Not from being cold because I was sleeping naked, but because it felt like, someone was watching me.

My attention was eventually drawn to the corner of my bedroom where the closet was. Even with the bedroom door left slightly ajar I was squinting to look through the darkness. I was trying to make out shapes of my clothing hanging on the bar. My pile of dirty clothes on the floor, but I couldn't see them. The shadows seemed unusually dark. It felt like something was there. My heart was starting to race. That prickly tingling spreading down my head and face, making my lips feel numb. I could swear there was something there. Some form or shape that wasn't anything that was hanging up. Some kind of subtle movement, a shifting in, or of, the shadows.

But despite the fear I was feeling from staring into the shadows of my closet, I knew something was wrong, because I could smell it. A scent that I can scarcely describe to you. It was the most intoxicating smell of sex and sweat and, strangely, a faint tinge of burnt matches. It was the scent of sweet, pungent sex, of lovers sweat, mixed with the acrid undertone of something sulphorous. Subtle as it was, it was there. But it didn't diminish the effect this scent was having on me. I was growing hard. Really hard, real quick.

I couldn't understand why that was happening. I was in the process of being scared shitless. But here I was, with a raging hard-on between my legs. The hardest I had ever been. It felt huge. Not that I was, not like all those guys you read about in those sex stories you read in Hustler or Penthouse (does anyone still read those?), or websites. I was no more than six inches long, half as thick, and cut. And because of this smell permeating my room, it was rock hard and throbbing harder than it had ever before.

Despite my fear, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to wrap my hand around it and stroke myself to the amazing orgasm I knew a hard-on like this would give me. But I couldn't. I didn't dare move an inch on my bed, because the shadows in my closet...they were definitely moving, swirling in on itself. They were taking some kind of shape. The form the shadows took, it was vaguely human. Arms, legs, torso, head...but like fog or smoke.

I knew it was there, I knew I wasn't seeing things. I knew it was real because the shadows it was made of, were darker than the rest of the shadows in my room. It had me frozen in place. I was scarcely breathing. A cold sweat covering me from head to toe, but I didn't dare shiver, for fear this...thing, would see me. My fingers were gripping the bedsheets so hard it hurt my hands. Lips trembling as that prickly tingling feeling spread all over my body, tightening my chest. My eyes were dry and hurting from staying open for so long. I was so scared I didn't dare blink.

My heart was thundering in my ears and chest as I watched this form start to move out from the closet. Liquid shadows flowing across the space between my bed and the closet. I don't know why I thought staying still would keep it from seeing me, I couldn't even tell if it had a face. It's not like I could have moved even if I wanted to, the terror I was feeling was far too great to let me do anything but watch this thing advance across the room towards me.

And through all of this, my cock maintained its hardness. In fact, it felt like it was getting harder. It felt painfully hard. Throbbing with my heartbeat. Pointed right at this creature, this thing. The smell in the room was getting stronger. I couldn't explain it. Here I was, sitting up in bed, holding myself up by my arms, drenched in sweat and scared out my wits, but all I wanted to do was cum. To have the most animalistic, raw, body-breaking sex imaginable. The desire to have this orgasm was becoming almost as intense as the fear I was feeling.

As frightening as it was to watch this form move at me, what chilled my blood then (and still does when I think about it) was the sound it made. Once it reached the foot of my bed it stopped and, I assume, looked down at me. Reaching out with a shadowy appendage, it took hold of the sheet covering me and slowly pulled it off. The sensation of the sheet rubbing against my skin, not just my engorged cock, but my entire body causing me to shudder involuntarily. That's when it made this sound. This hard, rasping, croaking sound. The Predator...have you seen that? I can't watch that movie anymore because of this. The sound the creature makes? It was a sound like that. It was something unholy sounding. A sound that shouldn't ever have been heard, because it shouldn't exist to be heard.

I watched this thing crawl up on the bed and over me. I was trembling but couldn't do anything other than that. I could only watch and hold my breath, thinking to myself that this is my last night. I was going to die. Whatever this thing was, it was either going to kill me or I was going to have a heart attack. Either way, I was sure a nightmare was going to kill me.

But it didn't. Instead it straddled me. It hovered over my body and I didn't dare blink. I couldn't. It gave me the best chance to have my best up-close look at what this was. What I saw...I don't know what I saw. I couldn't look through it so it seemed solid. Up close it seemed like it was made of smoky, flowing, shadows. Inky tendrils of itself separating and floating up, dissipating. And I was right. It had no face. Just a blank, black, smoking expanse between what would have been its chin and the top of its head. It was face shaped, oval or so, but it was blank. Like staring into the void and feeling in your bones that it was staring back at you. The lust that had been building in me had me wanting to kiss this void. I wanted to bury my face it in. The only thing holding me back was my fear. Fear and desire battling each other inside my chest.

But the desire inside me was building rapidly. I could hear it drumming in my ears. I could feel it in my veins, tensing my muscles and joints. Fear and lust pulsing through me, all centering between my legs. Pushing my cock to a hardness I'd never felt before. My entire being wanting to explode out the end of it. Open mouthed I watched as it raised its hand and spread out its fingers. Smokey digits like human fingers touching my bare chest. The icy, burning caress freezing the already cold sweat on my skin. What breath I was drawing in caught in my throat. My body shivered with its touch, my skin turning white as it slowly drew its fingers down my chest and stomach. I felt that cold burn around my cock while this thing sat down on me. It didn't feel any weight, it had substance but no mass. All I could feel was the cold burning, vise-like grip it held on my cock. Arching my back and pressing my hips into it. White cold fear and lust driving my hips up as far as I could. Though it had no weight it moved with me, up with my hips and then back down, faster and faster. Moving into it with no other thought in my head then to drive my hips up harder and harder and harder.

I felt cold and fuzzy as this creature rode me, leaning back and but seeming to be looking down at me. The warmth of my body being pulled from my arms and legs. My face felt clammy and pasty. Draining of color like the rest of my body, everything running directly to my cock, driving deeper into the icy hot depth of this being. My hips moving on their own. The mattress springs creaking louder and louder. The headboard rocking and knocking against the wall. My cock burning and growing. My breath held in my throat, mouth open. Wanting to moan, and scream out at the top of my lungs in ecstasy

This frantic fucking carried on for what seemed like the rest of my life. No matter how hard and fast I threw my hips up it wasn't enough to trigger my orgasm. Wild eyed, grunting and groaning now with the want, the desire, the desperate and absolute need to cum inside my shadow lover. Sweating with exertion, my sheets cold and wet under me, clenched between my numb fingers. My lap burning cold where this thing was sitting on me.

The burning in my cock grew more and more intense. One-two-three-four-five more thrusts and the dam in my testicles broke. I felt as if everything in my body rushed out through the end of my cock. All warmth draining out of me through my cock, the icy vise sapping it from me. I could feel my body growing cold, colder than I thought was possible without dying. Like part of me was being sucked out of me. My skin was tightening around my muscles with a sharp, pinching pain. My heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest. My breath was heavy in my non-functioning lungs. I couldn't support my body with my arms anymore. They gave away and I fell back on my pillows. Back arched up high and tight, my mouth working for breath, opening and closing in vain like a fish out of water, as I emptied myself of everything I had in me into the living, coupling, shadow.

I could only stare, I still hadn't blinked since this whole scenario started. I could only stare and watch the shadow spread a hand over its...where its middle, midsection, its stomach...or where its stomach would be. It held its hand there, like it was full, or pleased. Why would it do that? It held its hand there, I could see it do this. It held its hand there as it started to slowly dissipate. Its inky blackness dissolving like smoke caught in a breeze. Wafting and floating up and away, rasping out that blood curdling sound again as it disappeared.

I woke bolt up-right in bed, gasping for breath, as if I had been holding my breath without knowing it. My first lungful of breath making choking me, causing my stomach to turn and lurch. The whole room reeking of spoiled, hot garbage and burning hair. Leaping out of my sweat and urine (I had pissed my bed out fear of this dream) soaked bed and tripping over my wadded up bed-sheet on the floor, I scrambled to the bathroom, throwing the toilet cover up with a loud clank and vomiting violently into the bowl. Gagging and heaving, muttering and crying into the toilet. Spitting and sitting back against the bathroom wall, the acid burning sensation in my nose and the back of my throat. Groaning and shivering, trying to collect myself and shake this awful feeling of dread, scared to death to go back into my bedroom. I spent the rest of the night there on the bathroom floor. Shivering, naked and afraid.

It was well into the afternoon when I finally moved myself off the bathroom floor and saw myself in the mirror for the first time. I swear, I looked older. There were deeper lines around my mouth and eyes. My hair seemed faded slightly in color. I could see the red, finger-width sized welts down my chest. I followed them down my stomach to my crotch, which stung when I touched it. Looking down, my whole crotch was tender to the touch. Cock, balls, and thighs were a bright, pinkish-red, like the onset of frostbite. After a hot shower I collected my dirty sheets and everything else I would need out of my bedroom and closed the room off.

Was it real? It felt real. It felt so real I haven't spent a night in that room since. My friends think I'm fucking crazy. They tell me either I need professional help or that I should stop drinking before bed. But, it felt real. The marks, that's proof, right? Its frostbite, not some rash like the doctor said, right? It really happened to me, didn't it? I'm not going crazy, am I?