All You Would Wish for Yourself

He lay awake in the dark, his heart pounding in his chest and his pillow cold and damp with his sweat. Not just his pillow, his hair was sodden. Much of him was uncovered and cold. There was the faint green light from his old clock radio but it didn't really penetrate the darkness. It was at times like this he regretted moving out to the sticks. One of the great selling points when his wife had first suggested buying a house in the middle of the Yorkshire Moors was the lack of light pollution and spectacular night skies. He hadn't counted on the seemingly permanent cloud cover obliterating any starry nights.

Growing up and spending most of his life in a suburb of Manchester he was used to everything being bathed in an orange light if you were unlucky enough to find your sleep disturbed. Sodium lights, where are you when I need you?

He didn't how many times he had this dream, it didn't matter he knew it was a dream. It terrified him. For some reason it punched all his buttons. Nobody knows you like your subconscious, but quite why it had decided to turn on him now was as big a worry as the dreams themselves.

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It all starts with a sense of intense wellbeing. A Friday evening leaving work after a really good productive week and weekend plans he'd been looking forward to for months kind of feeling. He's walking down a set of stairs. They are tiled black and white alternate squares. The walls are less important. There is a well worn dark wooden rail along the inner edge of the oval stairwell. The previous euphoria is gradually erased and replaced with a sense of ill ease. Firstly it dawns on him he doesn't actually know where he is. Next he looks up and down the stairwell and only the floors immediately above and floor below seems to be illuminated. He's been walking for a while, downwards and has always been in light. He has no clue what floor he is on or which he is headed for. And lastly there is the echo. If it is an echo. Every step his leather soled brogues make on the tiled stairs there is another identical step above him, a fraction of a second behind. It is always there, it is always at the same time. And yet somehow it is getting louder, it is getting closer. It is the floor directly above now and he leans over to look up. Grinning back is a parody of himself. Blackened eyes and an evil sneer but definitely his face. It's at this point he wakes up, terrified and coated in a sheen of sweat.

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Greg and Daisy O'Dowd had met through work. At least that's what they told anyone that asked. She was in scientific research and development and he owned a coffee shop she and her colleagues often frequented. Both had been in relationships that weren't going well. Greg suspected his then girlfriend was cheating on him and Daisy had been with the same guy for 12 years and they were simply drifting apart. She just wasn't the same person she was had been at 22 but he seemed content to never change, never grow or move on.

It was one night after work she just wanted to postpone going home and decided on some quiet "me" time at the coffee shop.

Greg ran the early evening shift by himself, it was never busy and he spent most of his time restocking and preparing for the next day before closing up.

When Daisy entered there was one other customer staring at an eBook on a tablet and Greg smiling amiably at her. He was cute. Bright friendly brown eyes and a tussle of wavy russet hair. He was tall, which was a definite ticked box for her, but quite skinny which definitely wasn't.

He recognised her immediately. She was 'pot of earl grey for one'. She was small and pretty but always looked terribly serious. He had often wondered if she ever smiled. She would probably be quite beautiful if she smiled. He decided tonight he would find out. Tonight he would he would put all his wit and charm to good use. Tonight he would stand behind his counter tongue-tied and silent and try not to appear to be staring at the pretty brunette with the earl grey for one.

She barely touched her drink. She watched people out on the pavement making their way home or off to meet friends. She hated drinking alcohol on a work night and couldn't stand to be around drunks when she was sober. She hadn't noticed the other customer had left half an hour ago. Her tea was tepid at best and Greg had done as much as he needed to do. As much as he liked definitely not staring at her he just wanted her to leave now.

"Are we all done with these?"

He smiled that warm smile at her sitting form. Out of reflex she picked up her cup and took a sip. Uck! She grimaced and swallowed.

"Gone cold."

She spoke to her cup as much as to Greg, before she looked up into his face.

"Are you closing now?" She hadn't kept track of time but the autumn dusk was deepening and street lights were flickering to life. She didn't want to go home. She couldn't face another round of circular arguments going on for hours, draining her energy and killing what love she had left for Pete. How can you feel love for someone you dread to be around? Pity, fondness, even the physical attraction was still there, but not much love any more. They had so much shared history, so many very happy memories but was that enough? He would always have a place in her heart but...

Her usually serious face fell. From serious to sad. Greg was about to answer her question in the affirmative but saw such loneliness and sorrow in her lovely face he just didn't have the heart. He crouched so their heads were at the same level, "You know earl grey is meant to be drunk hot, otherwise you don't get the wonderful aroma of the bergamot. If anyone found out a customer of mine was drinking cold earl grey tea in my very own coffee shop...well..." He shook his head sadly, "My reputation would be in tatters. I'd be run out of town, and justifiably so. Can I get you a fresh pot?"

And there it was. Daisy's sad face morphed into the most beautiful heart rending smile he had ever seen. She placed a hand on his, "Thank you."

When he returned with her tray she smiled again. He was nice. His humour was gentle, self-effacing and she wondered why she hadn't noticed before.

Daisy looked around the empty shop, "I'm Daisy by the way, will you keep me company?"

And so it began.

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Greg squinted at the green glow. 03:44 as usual. Do dreams have internal chronometer? Same time each night. Not each and every night but the same time each night he dreamt. Becoming more frequent, third time in five days and getting closer every time. He felt himself starting to drift. Next thing he knew it was morning.

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Greg didn't know for sure she was cheating. All the signs were there, sudden increase in her interest in her appearance (Ursula had always looked good, really good. Small blonde, blue eyed. Small sharp nose and pronounced cheek bones, full lips) more revealing outfits, staying out later, and less interest in him. She had become quite dismissive of him and rarely seemed to be even listening to him. By God she was sexy though, and their physical relationship blew him away. She had been the one to latch on to him in the first place. A fairly unpromising Friday night out with a couple of friends had met up with more friends and a trip to the local night spot. Ursula had decided he was her target for the night and made her intentions clear from the off. Greg had never experienced a sexually aggressive woman before and loved every minute of it. She took him back to her flat and fucked his brains out, soon he was besotted and six weeks later she was moving in with him. Now it seemed she was bored and had reset her sights elsewhere. With a curt air kiss and a "Don't wait up," she was out of the door and gone nimbly ignoring his questions and giving no indication where she was going. Greg decided there and then, even if she wasn't seeing anyone else he couldn't stay in this relationship any longer.

For the she-didn't-know-how-many times Daisy asked Pete to please put down the Xbox controls and listen to her. Pete loved his video games and his football and his nights out and occasional weekends away with the lads. And Daisy. He always had. He still did. And that was the problem. He just wanted life to be the same as it was when he was in his twenties. His teens. He was still in the same job, exactly the same job, at the warehouse. She wanted more. She wanted to get on and he just didn't get it.

"Pete, I've grown, I need more. I can't stay in this same situation forever going nowhere."

"Why? What is wrong with our life? We have fun don't we? Loads of people would be happy with what we have."

"I know Pete, but I'm sorry, I'm not loads of people. I need to grow. I need to change."

They sat in silence for a minute or so. Neither could look at the other. Pete eventually picked up his games console controls and returned to his zombie slaying.

"I can't cope with this right now." And he turned to face the TV screen. Daisy went and lay on her bed and wept.

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Greg was walking down the black and white stairs again. The echoed steps are louder ever closer. His sense of wellbeing evaporated as he sensed someone directly behind him. He didn't turn, his body refused to move. A hand on his shoulder and unmistakably his own voice but deeper, darker somehow, "Hello Gregor."

He woke in his own bed as usual, this time there was no sweat, this time he was able to easily see. It was dark and the only illumination was his clock radio, but somehow he could clearly make out Daisy's sleeping face. She looked especially sweet when she slept. Innocent and childlike. He gazed at her for a moment, drinking in her beauty. She wore an old pyjama set of t shirt and shorts. Her breasts were a nice size, not big like Ursula, B and a half she used to say. The covers were off one shoulder and she had one shapely leg out from under the duvet.

He stroked her face lovingly. He loved looking at her; it never failed to stir him. He allowed his hand to slide down to her breast. He squeezed it gently feeling the nipple spring to life and press back against his palm. Taking it between finger and thumb he rolled her nipple quite roughly, causing her to gasp in her sleep. Her chest rose and she squashed herself against him. Almost without him realising, his other hand stroked its way up her exposed thigh and under the leg of her shorts. Her legs opened willingly and his finger found her pussy. His fervour was building and he squeezed and pulled at her breast. He pulled her t shirt up to get his hand on her naked flesh and mauled her. Her gasps turned to moans and she writhed against him encouraging him, leading him further. As he pawed and sucked her tit his other hand was busy stroking and probing. Her wetness rose with his own erection. He slid one, two fingers into her wet tunnel. Daisy let out a low growl and opened her eyes. She looked at Greg with pure lust.

He bit her nipple. It hurt her and it excited her. More growls and he felt her pussy spasm around his fingers in response, he knew she liked it and bit her again. Her hands went behind his head and pulled him into her as her orgasm started to build.

All he knew was he wanted to be inside her and placed himself between her legs. Her legs opened wide to give him access and he tore her shorts from her. His cock head was nestled at her entrance and he pushed.

His mouth was still clamped to her nipple and he sucked hard on it while pushing himself in. Daisy wailed her arousal. She screamed in joy as he bottomed out , filling her entirely.

"Fuck me you dirty bastard, fuck me right now!"

Greg withdrew only to push straight back in. Hard and fast from the off he fucked his wife with more ferocity, more passion than she had ever experienced or he had ever felt.

Pounding again and again they rushed headlong into their mutual orgasm. Their lust was wild and unfettered, urgent and out of control. They thrust back at each other and grunted in unison. He raised his head and howled as he released inside her. Her orgasm exploded in her loins and sent shock-waves through her being. She dug her red pointed nails into his back, breaking flesh and drawing blood. Backs arched, sweat ran between then and for a second they were held rigid before he collapsed on top of her.

Within a minute he had turned away and was asleep. She felt the dull ache and the wondrous afterglow in her breast and pussy. Never before had she been so thoroughly fucked, never before had she felt so completely desired. Soon she too was smiling and asleep.

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As Daisy's friendship with Greg blossomed both their domestic situations worsened and it wasn't long before they moved things up a gear. Neither of them dealt with confrontation very well and they wanted to avoid as much of as scene as they could. They found a place to rent together and independently they informed their other halves they were leaving in one month. Ursula was used to doing the breaking up and responded very badly. She screamed and threw whatever came to hand, smashing numerous glass and pot ornaments and three times they found their target. Greg fled the flat while she calmed down and was instructed by more than one passers-by to visit A&E. The gash on his forehead was worse than he imagined and when he caught his reflection in a shop window he almost threw up. As he walked into casualty he passed up. The police were called because he was registered as an assault victim but he could never press charges, not even when he returned home the next day to find most of his clothes and belongings destroyed.

Pete went through the seven stages of grief. Each one took an inordinately long time by Daisy's estimations and a disproportionate amount of that was wallowing in self-pity which, she felt was frankly cheating. Somewhat belatedly and begrudgingly he arrived at acceptance. This had been a long time coming and it wasn't as though she hadn't made her feelings known. Pete was genuinely very sad, a big part of his life was over, a part he'd enjoyed. A part he'd loved. He wasn't a malicious man however and try as he might he couldn't blame anyone, nobody had done anything wrong; it was just one of those things. One of life's shitty breaks. He loved her, he couldn't be angry for long.

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"Hey tiger!" Daisy snuggled against Greg's upper arm; she'd been watching him for the last half hour waiting for any sign of wakefulness. There was still about 40 minutes till the morning alarm went off. She still throbbed pleasantly from earlier and the recollection of being thoroughly ravaged made her quite moist.

"Thank you for last night, it felt very naughty and exciting."

She kissed his shoulder and one hand drew nails across his chest. He did his best to hide his confusion. The last thing he remembered was stroking her face and falling asleep after he was woken by the dream at the usual time. Nobody had said anything he'd done was naughty and exciting since he was about 17 and stole a pint of milk off a doorstep on the way home from a party. The dream! Where did it get too last night? Normally every last detail haunted him but he could only remember that he'd dreamt not what had happened.

Daisy brought her leg up and hooked over his. Her nails continued their journey south across his belly.

"I'm still a bit sore, but in a really good way." She looked down her top at herself, laughed and pulled it up at the bottom. "Look what you did, you animal!"

The shock must have shown on his face. Her breast was bruised and bitten, her nipple still thick and erect. Aroused. Small details started coming together. Where were her shorts? He could feel her damp pussy pressed against his thigh. What the Hell had happened to her breast? What exactly was it he couldn't remember? Her nails scraped across his scrotum and up along the flaccid length of his cock til they met over the head. It felt really nice. It sent excited tingles deep into his core. But it didn't cause him to be erect. As Daisy saw it, it didn't arouse him. The feeling of being desired that she'd basked in all morning evaporated in an instant and cold hard anger condensed in its place.

"I don't know who it is you were dreaming of last night, but it sure as hell wasn't me!"

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Whirlwind they called it. After a month of moving in together they were engaged, and four months after that they and a small select number of friends meet them at the local registry office to be officially proclaimed Mr and Mrs O'Dowd. Word of their nuptials reached the ears of Pete. Pete had convinced himself she would see the error of her ways and come crawling back. He'd spent a good deal of his time since being a teenager in a land populated by witches and wizards and monsters. He felt dead inside. She had lied, she left him for someone else. She'd cheated on him. She must be punished.

"I've changed. I need more." Her words echoed in his head.

"I'll change you, you two timing bitch."

Later that evening as they left the restaurant that had hosted their wedding meal a dishevelled figure emerged from the shadows.

"Congratulations Daisy, I hope you'll be very happy." Pete forced a smile. Greg moved to stand between Daisy and Pete but she stopped him and walked to stand by Pete.

"Thank you Pete, that means a lot. I will certainly be happier knowing I have your blessing."

"Speaking of which I made you something for your special day. It's not of any monetary value but..." His words trailed off, he pulled an A5 envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Daisy. It was black thick good quality paper. The flap was tucked in, not stuck down and she opened it. Inside was a single sheet of black paper of the same quality. It had been folded in half to form a card of sorts. On the front there was a hand drawn rune or symbol. It was quite beautiful and very well rendered. Inside, written in scarlet was the message, "Wishing you all you could wish for yourself."

"Did you make this?" Daisy had never known Pete do anything at all creative.

"I had help; I just wanted it to be personal."

Daisy hugged Pete and kissed his cheek. She was very close to tears and found it difficult to speak. She mouthed a thank you and turned and walked away. Her arm was hooked in Greg's as they made their way home. Their first night as man and wife was spent at home. Their honeymoon in Edinburgh would begin in two days' time.

That night they were curled up on the sofa watching a film together. It was a rather good, but very adult, thriller they had both been too embarrassed to see at the cinema. Daisy reached across for her wine, there was a graphic scene where the female lead was being cajoled into sex. It made her uncomfortable and the wine was a distraction. She knocked over her handbag which was on the same table as her glass and bent to pick up the spilled contents. Pete's card was in her hand and she took it out of the envelope and re-read it. She took in the detail, the effort that had gone in to the symbol on the front. Then she put the card down and returned to the film. The woman was having sex. It was rough and she was reluctant, but the moans she uttered left you in no doubt she enjoying it. Daisy caught her breath. There was a flutter in her core and despite herself she was excited. She glanced up at Greg beside her but he was absorbed in the movie too. She had surprised and disturbed herself; tried to put it out of her mind.

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He was on the stairs again. There was no elation this time only unease. Unease turning to dread. He knew there was someone behind him someone close enough to touch him.