The Other Side - Sleepy Breeding

That powdery, flowery scent I'd always caught in a little breeze when she walked by my desk in class. I'd taste a hint of it on my tongue while staring down at my notebook, and then look up just in time to see her hips swaying, her beautiful ass jiggling just slightly with each commanding step she took.

I don't know how to explain my attraction to her in any coherent way other than to say that there are some older women who remind you of your mom, and then there are some older women who remind you of someone else's mom—a woman who commands the same respect and power and force of presence, but who you can also paradoxically feel a physical attraction towards. She used to walk the aisles between the desks, stop at the front of the class and slap her hand down on her desk just to see who would react.

And if you didn't react, she'd point a finger at you and say, "You're not paying attention to your test, are you?"

And I know, I know, she meant nothing dirty by that, but she would scrunch up her brow, and a wrinkle would run across her nose, and one corner of her mouth would go up in a little half smirk, and her inescapable gaze would strike you to your core, and just as your heart rate was building up she'd lean forward a little as if to grant you the vaguest peek down the front of her shirt at those wonderful breasts she kept bunched up in there—as if she knew what you were paying attention to rather than your test, and she was glad to tease you with the fact that you could always look but never touch.

I turned her over onto her stomach, got her onto her knees so her ass was up and that slender back was arched, and then I slowly pushed her skirt up, revealing her perfectly curved ass. She was wearing panties under the panty hose, but I didn't care. I slapped my hands against her ass and squeezed it tight and yanked at the panty hose, getting them down around her thighs.

Then I closed my eyes and just imagined. I saw myself back in that classroom. I saw her walking past the other students as they watched, eyes wide, lips apart, until she reached my desk, turned around and arched her back so that I had full access to her ass. I imagined her rolling her skirt up until it was bunched up against her lower back and then spreading her cheeks, her panties still on, and telling me this was my punishment for not taking my schoolwork seriously.

"If you like the way I smell so much," she said in my imagination, "then why not take a nice big whiff?"

In the real world, my eyes still closed, I grabbed her ass, spread it and put my nose up against her hole, her panties the only thing blocking me now. It felt so warm, even with the fabric in my way, and her smell filled my nose and mouth and chest—a blend of her faint body odor from sweating in her panty hose along with that flowery fragrance she doused herself in every morning.

In my imagination, Doc reached back and shoved my head between her cheeks, so in the real world I dug my fingers into her soft ass and ground my nose on her sensitive hole, barely noticing her sleepy groans. My dick was so hard it hurt by then, but it never occurred to me to use it, because all the rational parts of my mind were powering down, and all that was left was this desire to worship this sleeping beauty I had before me.

I sniffed hard and loud. I wanted her scent to stay with me after it was all said and done.

Letting out a breathy little noise, I kissed her hole and sucked on the fabric. The drug not only knocked its victims out, but made them incredibly horny, so her panties were already quite dark with her juices in the front.

I bit each asscheek, digging my teeth in hard and then sucking loudly as my lips pulled away, and then I pulled her panties down and gazed upon that puckered, dark hole of hers.

The Dr. Lenox in my mind was bending over so deep she could wrap her hands around her ankles, and her panties were yanked down just under her massive ass. Her pussy was oozing and her asshole was clenched tight, and by now the whole class was watching us, stunned into silence by what was happening.

I touched the tip of my tongue to that that warm hole, just to get used to the strong taste of it. Bitter. A faint hint of salt from the sweat. In the real world, she was on the bed with her ass up, and I was kneeling on the edge of it, leaning in with my face between those warm cheeks. I kept my eyes open and focused on the present moment, discarding my fantasy, and I let my tongue dance up and down against the ring of her asshole as I rested one of my hands against her foot, at which point I felt her toes curling up.

She may not have been awake, but she was definitely enjoying this.

Now accustomed to that salty flavor, I moved on to the inside of her asscheeks, sucking on her dark skin hard and loud and leaving it sticky with my spit. I switched back and forth between each cheek, biting into her soft meat as hard as I thought I could without drawing blood, and then nuzzling my nose against the spot.

I wanted my mouth to touch every little crack and crevice of her ass, wanted my tongue pressed hard against places her fingers had never even felt, and I was thorough about pursuing that goal, holding her asscheeks as spread apart as I could and digging the tip of my tongue into the skin on the inside of each cheek and dragging it everywhere, from around her asshole to up her crack all the way to the small of her back, and then back down to that tender stretch of skin between her ass and pussy, which I closed my mouth against and sank my teeth into slowly until I felt her buck hard underneath me. I relaxed my jaw. Even drugged, a nice shot of pain can wake anyone up.

Then I pulled back and put the heel of my palm against her asshole and noticed her fists clench up. I bit my lip.

Resting one hand on her lower back, I ground the heel of my hand on her sensitive hole, listening to her quiet, whispered moans. I pushed harder and worked my hand back and forth slower, and she sunk further and further down until she was flat against the bed and her spread legs were trembling. That's when I attacked, pulling my hand away and putting my mouth against her hole and sucking on it hard until my lips came away with a loud smack over and over, Doc clenching up each time. I reached one finger to her clit, put pressure against it and worked it a little, and almost immediately my goddess Dr. Lenox had a full-body sleeping orgasm, grunting and exhaling and inhaling hard as I mercilessly fingered her clit and sucked loudly her asshole.

I played with her clit for so long that she actually reached down and pushed my hand away.

A shot of fear struck me in the gut, and I stood up straight. She turned onto her side and covered her sensitive crotch with her hands and opened her eyes, gasping for breath—but the instant I saw those brown irises darting back and forth I knew she was no more awake now than she had been when I walked her out of the bar.

Still, that was very close. I didn't even want to imagine her waking up. I figured I'd better get this thing over with before the kink—oh, and also my fucking life—was ruined.

There's a part of the scheme that I haven't told you about yet. She'd submitted her forum post in a section titled Sleepy Breeding, a place for women whose very specific kink was being knocked out and impregnated in their sleep. I'd love to pretend I knew about this phenomenon of sleeping orgasms women seem to be fucking having, but I didn't until I discovered The Other Side—and, quite obviously, the idea caught my attention.

So that's why I was there: To give her the baby her husband couldn't.

I pushed her onto her stomach again and pulled her pants and panties all the way off of her, and as I straddled the backs of her legs, inching closer with my dick out so I could enter her from behind, I rationalized everything she'd done with one excuse after another.

My hands fell against her fat ass, my thumbs sinking into her flesh. "She loves her husband more than anything," I said, "but she also wants a child."

I pressed the head of my dick up against her entrance, her dripping, warm pussy lips spreading under the pressure. "She wants to go to a sperm bank, but she knows he'd feel embarrassed."

With an animal growl, I forced my dick inside her burning hot pussy, feeling the walls close against my shaft and the lips quiver slightly as she clenched. Slowly, very slowly, I invaded her, and then I let out a sigh when I was all the way in, my crotch pressed up against her ass. "She wants to fuck a guy for his sperm, but she would feel guilty if she felt any pleasure. She'd feel like she was cheating."

Her pussy was soaking wet, warm, tight; I actually felt a streak of her juice run down my balls before dripping to the bed. I fucked her slow, clutching two handfuls of her soft ass and closing my eyes. I wanted to enjoy every moment of this—it would never happen again.

I spread her ass and put my thumb to her hole as I fucked her, applying pressure slowly until it slipped past the ring to the first joint on my finger. She hummed against her closed lips, encouraging me to push my thumb all the way into her. When my thumb bottomed out, I started thrusting it inside her, and she immediately started to cum, another series of grunts and gasps and exhalations as her body stiffened out and her ass crushed my thumb, her pussy flexing and relaxing against my dick, clenching down painfully tight on my shaft and then easing up, and then squeezing again.

I almost lost it, and any guy who's almost gone over the edge masturbating will know the feeling. You stop everything and close your eyes and hold your breath and hope to god you haven't gone one stroke too far. You wait and wait, the pressure building in your dick... and then it subsides. You're safe.

I was safe.

I pulled out of her pussy.

My dick was wet with her juices, and I could've finished off in her pussy, but the way she had locked down on my thumb had awoken all those old fantasies from my early days in college, when I studied every contour of her ass silhouetted under that thin skirt she always wore. The blinds for the classroom window were too high to reach without a stick, so whenever she wanted to show something on the projector she'd go to the door, lean forward, bending at the waist, and call for a janitor to come over and help her.

I and everyone else would have to sit with our mouths slightly open, all conversations stopping abruptly as we watched her skirt rise just enough to reveal the bottoms of her ass cheeks for the smallest glimpse of a second.

At night, I oftene dreamed of her lifting her skirt to expose her ass and just sitting in my lap, crushing my dick with her weight. In the mornings I'd wake up and jerk off, and my dick would still be rock hard even after I came.

I simply was obsessed with her ass, and now here it was right in front of me.

Through clenched teeth, I said to myself, "I will stick my dick in you, ass of the gods! Even if her husband walks in with a gun right now!"

I spread her ass cheeks as wide as I could and stared at that trembling, tight hole, and when I put the warm head of my dick to her asshole, she bit her lip and started breathing hard through her nose. I glanced back once at the door, just to be sure her husband wasn't actually walking in with a gun, and then I pushed my weight behind a thrust that buried me balls deep into her asshole, each inch disappearing slowly but surely until my body was pressed up against hers and the lips of that tiny mouth were puckered against the veiny base of my dick.

She instantly had an orgasm—that drug was fucking powerful. I held my ground, squeezing fistfuls of her marshmallow ass as the earthquake passed, a clenching and trembling of her asshole that I felt hardest at the base of my dick, where the ring of her hole seemed like it might cut the circulation.

This was probably the biggest test of determination I'd ever been through. I squeezed my eyes shut, but in my mind I saw a fantasy of myself sitting on the edge of the bed with Doc sitting in my lap, her panties tugged aside and her unreasonably warm asshole swallowing the entirety of my dick. She was looking back at me and chewing on her lip and arching her back and cumming on my cock so hard it actually hurt—a blend of what I was feeling in reality and what I'd always wanted to feel in my dreams.

I wanted to cum in her ass and then lick it clean... but I held my fucking ground.

When it was over she relaxed. I opened my eyes to the real Dr. Lenox and put my hands against her lower back as I leaned into her and started fucking her nice and slow.

Her ass was sucking on my dick. There's no other way to put it. It felt like she'd grabbed on and wasn't willing to let go. I clenched my teeth and put my weight against her and thrust her slow and hard, the sound of me slamming against her ass clapping through the air. We were grunting like breeding animals, sweaty and hot and primal.

As another orgasm rocked her body, I threw myself down flat against her and fucked her ass a lot faster, and now I had her scent again—that burst of flowers tainted slightly by her body odor. The drug would keep raising her body heat, but never to dangerous levels. I buried my face in her neck and put my arms around her waist and crushed her body against the bed, the friction building in her ass everytime my dick bottomed out inside her.

Though she still had her shirt on, I reached under her and grabbed her tits, and then I bit so hard into her neck she gasped aloud, and I kept fucking her, even as I knew the orgasm was building, until that sensation came over me, and I knew if I didn't stop I would cum.

But god, I never wanted to stop. I was living out a fantasy that had run through my mind so many times I'd convinced myself it was literally impossible, as if my desires for this woman were like when someone desires to fuck a supernatural being—as if the fundamental laws of physics prevented it.

I had made her the embodiment of all the things I want in life that I will never have because I will never be good enough, and now that I was fucking her I was letting out all that pent up frustration.

But I had a job to do, and I had already resolved to do it.

I got up on my knees and pulled out with shaking hands that only held still when I gripped her ass and slammed my dick in her pussy.

With my cock forced so deep inside her that I could feel my balls up against her, I pumped a heavy load into her cunt, and I grunted with each spurt of cum, and my eyes rolled back as she clenched and relaxed again and again with seemingly no end in sight, until I was finally so sensitive I had to pull out.

A thin string of cum connected the head of my dick with the mouth of her pussy. I watched it hang there for a few months before snapping and disappearing, and the second it was gone the weight of what had just happened hit me.

"Shit shit shit," I said, scrambling out of the bed in such a panic that I fell over onto the floor with a heavy thud. I rose on my knees and looked over at Doc, expecting her to have woken up, but there she was—sleeping as soundly as a child. Her legs were spread, and her pussy was still clenching, and the lips were working slightly, as if her cunt was trying to say something. Cum was smeared around the entrance and the lips, and some had pooled with her juices beneath her on the bed.

There was no going back now. Doc was going to be a mom.

I won't go into detail about the cleanup process—it was as slow and nervous as you'd expect, and every little sound I heard convinced me that her husband would come walking up the stairs any second. But that night as I drove home I felt a new kind of energy coursing my veins. I felt like I'd done something so new and unique, so unacceptable in our culture, and yet so right. She wanted it. I wanted it. We were two people with a twisted fetish, and we made it happen in real life in a way no one would've thought was possible—we pushed through to the other side. Suddenly this website was making perfect sense.

But when I got home and rushed to my computer to write up a long post in the "Success Story" subforum, you can probably guess what happened next.

"No way," you're probably saying right now, but the universe is laughing maniacally and saying, "Yes way."

I saw a new comment from the original poster who had set up the scheme—the woman I thought was Doc. The comment said she was cancelling her request. She almost went out to the bar tonight, but she'd gotten cold feet about the whole thing. She was sorry if any guys went to the bar looking for her.

It felt like a blood vessel had burst in the pit of my stomach.

I checked the time stamp. Posted about twenty minutes ago, when Doc was too busy getting her pussy wiped clean to be posting on the forum.

Doc couldn't have possibly been the original poster is what you need to understand. She couldn't have been my target. She couldn't have had anything to do with the scheme. So basically I had gone out to role play a date-raping scene and actually date-raped my favorite teacher.

What better way to scrape a self-satisfied grin off someone's face than to let them realize on their own how much of a failure their "Success story" was?

If you think there isn't a god by now, you're too optimistic.

Sitting back in my chair, my eyes wide and my chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, I slowly realized the worst part. The worst part wasn't the fact that I would have to watch for weeks and months as Doc's belly grew bigger and her marriage grew closer built on this lie; and the worst part wasn't the fact that I would never look at her the same again, would never sit in a room alone with her without having war flashbacks; the worst part was that I knew all of these things were true, and I still found the situation hot.

My dick was rock hard.

In the default setup, the girl is the one who touches the other side of her kink, because she gets drugged and she gets taken home and she gets impregnated—all by a stranger, at a time and date she can't predict. She lives the scenario as if it were real. She never has to acknowledge the charade. But for the man, the whole thing is a charade from beginning to end, and he has to be content with "close enough."

But by accidentally targeting the wrong woman, I had accidentally touched the other side of my fantasy.

And all I wanted was to do it again.

I'll be upfront right now and say I've never gone after another girl after that incident with Doc. I never even tried to help anyone on the forums; I was too fucking scarred. But I obsessed over the original poster I'd never met. I always wondered what happened to her, where she was, why she hadn't come to the bar.

And most of all, I wondered how Doc ended up in that exact bar, saying exactly the right words for this situation to happen.

In my search for the answers to these questions, I took part in a lot more internet stalking than I'm willing to admit, and in the end I found myself tracking down one specific person.

This redheaded English major I'd met at Doc's dinner party didn't realize it, but I had been targeting her for seven months by the time we met, and that night was not going to be some random act of violence, but a premeditated strike.

That's why I sat next to her at the dinner party that night. That's why I slipped my straw into her drink. That's why, an hour later, I was falling asleep in my car on the side of the road waiting to see her drive by on her way home—and when I saw her car go cruising through, the wash of her headlights illuminating the foliage around me and then passing on—I pulled out into the road after her and followed close behind, knowing she'd be too out of it to recognize me.