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Subject: Questions in the Night(MF)
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This is a story of a free and wicked imagination, not to read by anyone 
under whatever the age of adultery is in their locality.

For the readers of mature years, please let me know how you like it.


Did you awake, or did you dream, as you felt a presence in the room,
somebody sitting by your bedside, holding a hand over your eyes?
Did somebody cover your eyes, or did you simply hold them closed?
Did my fingers trace the features of your face, the curve of your
lips, the line of your jaw, tickle the sensitive wings of your nose
with a scratchy nail, or did you stroke your face in the darkness
of night?
Did you feel my hand stroking your throat, lifting the covers, while
holding a hand over your eyes, not brutally, but insistently, softly,
or were you caressing yourself in a dream?
Did my hands gently curve your breasts, nipples burning hot, clench
them, then let go, running a scratchy nail from a careful finger in
a circle around your nipples raising a palisade of goosebumps, or
did you hold yourself in your sleep?
Did you feel my hand stroking your stomach, playfully probing your belly 
button, caressing your lower stomach, brushing the fringe of
your hair, or were you exploring your own possibilities of joy?
Did my hands explore you between your legs, lying naked in the night,
spreading your legs welcoming me, feeling my fingers stroke your
entrance, gently thumb my way with your clitoris, whisper in your
ear :"We call this galatuppen", the Cock-a-doodle tip" with hot breath, 
tug your earlobe with my teeth, or was it your dreamy imagination?
Was it my fingers that slipped inside you, first one, feeling the
 slickness, feeling the heat, probing deeply, rubbing upwards, the
leave, wet and slippery, and return with a friend, probing just as
deep and broader than the first time, or were they somebody else´s
Did I put my fingers to your mouth then, letting you taste your joy,
or were they your own fingers?
Did I return with my hand to your cunt then, now fucking it harder
with my fingers as you move beneath me, putting your heels in the
sheet, digging in, arching up against my feel, or was it perhaps
only a dream?
Did i kiss you then, you feeling my heat and weight, and discovering, if 
you opened your eyes, that it was so dark you could not see, or
did you only dream it?
Did you the feel me probing you with three fingers, you whimpering,
slamming your hips up an down, wet and gushing,, or was it three of
your own fingers?
Did you sense me moving in the darkness, my breath exhaling as I laid
down beside you and pulled you to me, or did you roll in your blankets, 
wetting them with your nightsweat?
Did I pull you on to your knees now, push your forehead to the bed,
your arms resting by your sides, leaving you open and undefended,
or did you move yourself?
Did you feel the hard, persistent tip of my cock, thick long gnarly
veiny, hard as stone, bloodblue bloodred with desire probe the hot
wet slutty cuntopening you presented to me, or did you dream it?
Did I grasp your hips and push forward and enter you and make you
feel it, so strongly, so so deep so stretching you felt like a virgin,
fucking for the very first time, or was it your imagination in the
Did I fuck you strongly, my hips bucking forward, holding your hips
your shoulders, your breasts, riding you from behind as you arched
your back and I grasped your hair to hold as a bareback rider grabs
the mane of the horse, or was it only nightride of the mind?
Was my cock filling you now, filling you hard, making you feel that
the pressure coming into you almost made your eyes pop out, your arms
shaking uncontrollably, or were you relying on a firm hand and a rich
The saliva drooling from your open mouth to the pillow, the sweat
beading your body shining in the moonlight as if you were clad in
pearls, the breath of you as if running a long long long run in 
unfamiliar terrain, did I do this to you, or did you do it to yourself?
The wildness within you as my prick fuck your cunt, the giving way
of you, the surrender of you to the shivery, shuddering, hopeful 
hopelessness of my cock stamping its mark on your cunt as mine, is it 
only your imagination, away from the daylight?The momentary shifting, 
your blank relaxation followed by curious and mixed emotions as I 
withdraw my thick long rough cock, like a baby´s  underarm holding a 
tangerine, wet and slimy with your wetness, hot with your heat, and you 
feel a hard presence probing your anus, does it come from my acts, or 
was it among your fears and among your
wildest fantasies?
The waiting on the brink for the terrible to follow, is it from what my 
cock is going to do to you, fuck your virgin asshole hard and rough,or 
is it in the dark recesses of your unstated unwanted dreams.
The great exultation of pain and pleasure as I lose every resemblance
of mercy, and you feel my cock fucking your asshole, filling you,
bursting you, making you feel impaled on my cock, tickling your tonsils 
from behind, making you seem a mere appendage to the great machine 
filling you, is it what I do to you, or what you to do yourself?
As I fuck you so hard, holding you in front of me as a wheelbarrow,
pushing you forward with each thrust, each thrust filling you, each
thrust fullfilling you, and you go over the brink with each thrust,
falling off a mountain top and landing in the furnace, falling off
a mountain top and landing in the furnace, falling off a mountain
top and landing in the furnace, as each and every orgasm shake you
and rage through you and burst out from you, did I do this, or did
you yourself?
As I scream in orgasm, and your feel my hot heavy bursts as I lose
the power of speech and merely bellow, and my hotness wetness sperm
and desire spill over you, do you feel my wetness , or your own?
Did I fuck you tonight, or did I only send you my words?

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