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He watches in amazement as I dip my hand between our bodies, plucking at my clit, rubbing it frantically as I stay seated on his cock.
My pussy tightens as I come apart on top of him; at the same time, he bucks his hips wildly, my orgasm leading him to follow right behind. I’m not sure if he finishes again. Both sated and suddenly exhausted, I drop down, splaying my body over the monster.
Considering how gently he runs his shadow claws along my spine, almost as if telling me ‘good job’ I’m thinking he did.
And that’s the last thought I have before everything goes black as I fall back into a well-earned dreamless sleep.
* * *
My dream is stillfresh in my mind when I finally begin to wake up again the next morning.
I’m sprawled on my side, one hand pillowing my cheek, the other nestled between my naked thighs. For one terrifying second, I don’t knowwhyI’m naked. I distinctly remembered changing into a tank and sleep shorts before going to bed. Still half asleep, it takes a second until I recall getting so hot in the night that I stripped down to my panties.
Only I’m not wearing them anymore, either.
Strange. Maybe I got up in the middle of the night to pee and I kicked them off or something. Considering my thighs are somewhat sticky as I flop from one side to the next, I wonder if I forgot to wipe.
Something dribbled, and since I haven’t been with a guy since Tyler, it’s way more likely that I had a bit of an accident than any other reason I might be sticky. Unless I got so turned on while I was sleeping I creamed myself.
If that’s the case, I think I need to sign up for a dating app or something. The ‘true love’ spell was definitely a bust, but if I’m so hard up that I’m getting off on a sexy dream about a seven foot tall monster of all things, I need to get laid andbad.
Whatever the reason I’m sticky—sweat, pee, or something else entirely—I know that a shower is in order. Checking my phone for the time, I see that it’s eight o’clock. Plenty of time to get up, get clean, change, and have some breakfast before heading down to Turn the Page.
Shimmying out of my bed, I go over to my dresser. I pull out a fresh panties, a bra, and a pair of nude stockings. To me, May is sundress and flats weather so I’ll need the stockings. The shoes I can pick out after I’m showered. Since I usually get dressed in the bathroom, I’ll need to pick out a dress.
I keep my collection of dresses, sweaters, and jeans hanging up in the closet. That’s all that should be in there.
So why, when I fling the door open, do I a pair of eerily familiar glowing white eyes.
The way it’s positioned in my room, it’s always been dark in the closet. The door blocks the light from the window hitting it so the small closet is full of shadows.
Today, it’s full of the shadow man I dreamed about last night.
Only it wasn’t a dream, was it? Unless I’m still dreaming—
I pinch myself. Ouch. I felt that, just like I see the way his eyes glow even brighter when I let out a soft yelp.
My yelp becomes a cry of surprise when he lashes his shadow arm around my hip, dragging me into the closet with him.
What is he doing in here? Forget the more obvious question—how can he bereal—since there’s no denying the brand on my naked hip as he tugs me up against his hot body. But if last night wasn’t a dream… why did he leave my bed and go hide in the closet?
Shadow, I think. He has that red-skinned form, but he’s also part shadow. How much do you want to bet that he can’t be out in the sunlight?
Just like how do you want to bet that the magic spell book I messed around with last nightdidactually work?Manifest… oh, I manifested something last night.
Worse, Ifuckedit.
And from the way those glowing white eyes are traveling all across my notably naked body, I get the feeling that he wants to do it again.
I don’t even get the chance to back out of the closet or even try to stop him from whatever the shadow monster is planning. Letting go of my wrist, I have a second to react before he lowers both of his hands to my waist.
With anoof, he lifts me up easily. And I meanup. My legs are dangling for a moment before he raises me high over his head. Mine nearly bumps my vaulted ceiling before he shifts my weight, hooking my legs over his shoulders.
Losing my balance, I fall forward, hands grasping wildly for something I can grab onto. Pushing past the fabric and the metal hangers hooked over the closet bar, I wrap my fingers around that.
His oversized hands are holding onto my waist. He gives my ass a gentle push, scooting my bare pussy as close to his mouth as possible. His nose bumps up against the top of my mouth. Something solid yet slick nudges my labia.
Fangs, I remember, bringing back some of the more hazy details of last night. This monster has equally monstrous fangs and theircentimetersaway from my private parts.
