The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

"Maddy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Hold on."

And she carefully slipped out of the bed and joined her husband at the door. They slipped out into the hallway, and that was as far as they made it.

6.

The guttural, strangled sounds coming out of his wife's mouth woke Nick Stewart from a dead sleep. His eyes popped open in the darkness of their bedroom, and for a few delirious moments he lay trying to figure out what he had heard. Then Maddy groaned out another hoarse cry and suddenly stopped, and he knew that she was having a terrible dream. He was still contemplating reaching over to shake her, when the sound of her desperate whisper caught him off guard and made him start.

"Nick? Honey?"

"Are you okay?" he asked her. She hesitated just long enough for him to open his mouth again - he was going to ask her if she'd had a nightmare - and then she answered him.

"I need you."

In the back of his mind he recalled vaguely that they had been arguing - not quite... more like "not getting along" - when he fell asleep, and he instantly sensed the opportunity to make it better now, so they could wake up in a better mood than they had gone to bed. Exactly what they had been arguing about dawned on him a moment after that, and suddenly it didn't seem that it had been worth making her feel bad about it before bed.

He rolled over to look at her in the dim light shining through the window over the bed, and she was gazing at him with wide, expectant eyes, her hair splayed out around her face in a tangled mess, one hand tossed up beside her face. She looked as if she were paralyzed, or too scared to move. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

Still staring at him with the wide, blank eyes of a terrified doe, she said, "I need you to go into the other room with me."

"Why? What's wrong?"

He heard her carefully exhale a long, deep breath, as if she were trying not to make too much noise with it, and she told him, "Just go. I'll tell you in there."

He couldn't imagine why she wanted to talk about it in another room - he wondered if she were expecting to cry, and didn't want to wake Danny - but he did as she asked and slithered out from under the blanket with barely a ripple in the mattress. He crept to the door, and Maddy made no indication that she intended to follow him, so he waited.

"Just a sec," she said. And it must have been one hell of a nightmare, because he could hear in her voice that she was still short of breath, and he could see in the stiff way she lay posed on her back, twisted slightly at the hips so that her legs were facing the middle of the bed and her upper body lay flat, that she didn't dare to move an inch.

He gave her a moment, then asked her again, "Maddy, are you okay?"

Finally she stirred a little, relaxing her hips so that her butt settled onto the bed and her legs faced in the same direction the rest of her did. "I'm fine," she panted. "Hold on."

Awkwardly, she swung her legs off the bed and stood; she cast one quick glance down at Danny, who was sleeping soundly and had not so much as twitched during their exchange, then she crossed the room, taking tender steps that looked strangely like she was limping - it looked a bit like her foot might have fallen asleep, only with every step, she planted both feet firmly, so that couldn't have been the problem. In the shimmering wash of the moonlight, her short, small figure was a mess of bed hair and wrinkled white t-shirt that covered her nearly all the way to the crotch - he could just barely make out the dark green bump of her panties where they curled back under her body. Even in the confusion of the midnight hour, he did not fail to notice the stark impressions of her two hard nipples straining against the sweat-moistened fabric of her shirt - apparently he could add "fear" to the list of oddball things that he had discovered could make a woman's nipples hard; he really didn't understand those things at all - but this was hardly an appropriate moment to be staring at the distressed woman's breasts.

She met him at the door and gestured impatiently for him to open it, and for the first time he looked down at his wife's face and realized that there was absolutely no sign of terror there. There was some small bit of perplexity mixed with an overall look of urgency, but there was not a trace of fear.

He led her quietly out of the room, turned to pull the door shut as silently as possible, and then turned in her general direction - it was almost pitch black in the hallway at the top of the stairs. The only source of light was a single window at the bottom of the stairs, and from around the corner where they stood, its influence was pale indeed. His eyes, still tuned to the brighter moonlight in the bedroom, had just barely picked out the darker outline of her silhouette in the darkness around them when she whispered, "I don't think I can walk... any farther."

"Maddy, what the hell is the matter?"

"Promise you won't laugh at me?"

"...why... would I laugh?"

He heard a shuffle of fabric against skin as she moved in the blackness, but he couldn't see what she was doing. The next sound he heard was the whispered thud of her shirt - it had to be her shirt - hitting the floor in a heap. The meaning behind what he was hearing hit him like a ton of bricks - but it was the most off-the-wall thing he could imagine. Maddy? In the middle of the night?

Her hands searched him out in the darkness; he felt her fingers brush the front of his bare chest, press him a bit as she tried to figure out what she was touching, and then she found her way to his waist line and gripped his hips. "I... had a dream. It gave me... some womanly feelings. I'd appreciate your help with it."

He felt her trembling as she revealed this, and he was immensely glad for the darkness, because as his wife whispered the words to him, the thirty-five-year-old man suddenly burst into a grin like an eighteen-year-old boy about to get his first piece. "Are you serious?" he asked her. As if for some crazy reason, his incredibly tame wife would wake him up in the middle of the night just to make a joke about wanting to have sex. But it was by and large the boldest, most unexpected approach the woman - who almost never approached him for sex in the first place - had ever employed.

"So serious," she assured him fiercely, and he could hear the little shiver in her voice that he had only ever heard while they made love, and she tried to speak when he was doing something very right. "It's not going to take much, though. Really. I almost- was done- right there in bed. But I promise if you help me, I'll help you."

"Where should we go? Downstairs-?"

"Nowhere. Right here. If I try to walk, I'm going to go off on the way." She couldn't quite get all of this out without laughing at herself - he'd have given anything in that moment to have been able to see the look on her pretty little face. He pictured the same mildly embarrassed smile of pleasure she usually flashed whenever he first touched the dampness between her legs and made her squirm - surely that was the look she wore now. But to picture it was not as satisfying as actually seeing it.

He judged the angle of her arms by the way she held him around the hips, and judged it fairly well. On the first try, he placed both of his own hands on her warm, naked shoulders and gently kneaded them, and though he couldn't see her, he heard the relief in her next breath, and felt her melt beneath his hands.

"Don't touch me- anywhere sensitive yet," she begged him. "Not even my- breasts. Okay?"

Had he not heard the hesitation, the awkwardness, in her words, he may not have realized that this was the first time in ten years he could specifically recall her talking about her body to him during a moment of passion - he sensed the pause as she tried to decide what to call her breasts. He could not remember her ever calling them anything but her boobs; the more erotic nature of the word "breasts" rolled off her tongue with just a hint of uncertainty. He realized that she was making a move just now that was far enough out of character for both of them to notice it, but enough within her character for her to give it a go. Apparently, whatever she had dreamt had put her in a frame of mind to push the envelope a bit.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Maddy," he said. "This is all yours."

Her hands were squeezing at his hips. She glided them around his back and slipped them into his boxers to clutch his buttocks, and in the darkness he could only feel what he could not see; her big, soft breasts pressed to his belly; her nipples were so hard he could feel where they lay on his midriff, without his fingers searching for them.

He let his own hands slide down her back as she came closer, his hands drinking in the smoothness of her bare skin in a way he would not have noticed, but for the absence of his sight. They drew each other in tight, and she pressed her breasts to him so hard they were nearly flat on her chest, bulging all over his belly like two warm pillows. He felt the reaction of his penis immediately; it stirred against the inside of his boxers and slowly woke, probably no less surprised, in its mindless way, than he was to be called to action in the middle of the night.

"I feel you in there. You're poking me in the belly," Maddy whispered - was she making a joke? This was a side of his wife he had hardly suspected she possessed.

He didn't know if there was a right way to reply to that, so he didn't say anything. She wiggled her belly against his groin, and his stiffening member grew even more eager. The harder it got, the more it wanted something more solid to touch than the stretching fabric of his boxers and the maddening hint of flesh on the other side. He leaned his pelvis in and pressed the length of it into her stomach, sending a powerful jolt of want through the tip of it.

She giggled quietly, involuntarily. Still clenching his buttocks with her hands, she twisted her arms a bit to force his boxers away from his body, then used her wrists to push them down his legs. His cock sprang free, and as she dipped low to guide his boxers to his knees, her dangling breasts softly slapped it on both sides. Inspired by the way he squirmed in closer and let out a low breath of approval, Maddy seized the opportunity. "Oh, you like that?" she teased him, grasping the sides of her breasts to wrap them around his whole erection, surrounding him in soft, smooth warmth.

And he did. Maddy had her way of being so affectionate when they made love it was exciting, but she was not generally very experimental. They had their ways, and their ways worked well, so neither of them had felt any compelling need to work in anything all that different. But suddenly, with no rehearsal or discussion, his loving wife stepped out of her box and stooped over to wrap his cock in the heavenly cushion of her big breasts, and she stroked his length with them as naturally as if she had been doing it all her life. His weight settled back against the closed door of their bedroom, and he gripped her shoulders, feeling her body glide up and down in front of him while she massaged him inside her two warm boobs, squeezing them together around his shaft and rubbing the head of his dick against her breastbone until it was swollen and raging with want.

Then she was away from him in the black hallway, and he heard the snap of her waistband as she peeled out of her panties. He waited, trying to see her, but only saw a vague black spot moving in front of him while his hips still kicked slowly forward and back in a steady rhythm. In the darkness, Maddy moaned sharply, and then whispered, "Oh my god, I'm not even touching it and I'm almost there!"

Suddenly she lunged back to him, found his hands, and pulled them to her breasts with force. Her whole body clung to him hard, and she clenched his wrists strongly enough to hurt; in his palms he felt her pebble-hard nipples and did his best to rub them, but she didn't notice, and didn't care, because he felt the scraggly patch of her pubic hair against his thigh; she clamped her thighs hard around his leg and gave a few desperate humps. She concentrated the opening of her vagina on his solid thigh, dragging a wet trail up and down it as she shook, gasped, and then exploded, collapsing in his arms, shivering, groaning. "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," she murmured over and over, once with every contraction of her orgasm, it seemed - at least five times, and maybe as many as eight.

He held his wife in the fullest embrace he could manage around her shuddering body while she came against his leg, kissing the knotted tangle of hair on the top of her head, caressing her lower back and ribs, letting his thumbs float along the sides of her heaving breasts. His cock was pinned between her naked hip and his own abdomen, and he was already too excited to stand still; while Maddy continued to shiver and squirm with ecstasy in his arms, he was humping her bony hip with abandon, thinking to himself that it wouldn't bother him a bit if she wanted to simply stand there and let him go on like that. Somehow - and maybe it was just that it was an unusual encounter for the two of them in the first place - he almost felt more excited about making love to the outside of her body than he did about slipping in; strangely, he thought that in this one particular case, even a quick hand job would feel as good as the real thing. What he was liking about this meeting was less the physical things, and more the shock of it all; he would not have imagined in a million years that his own modest wife would drag him out into the hallway in the middle of the night for a surprise tit fuck - god bless wet dreams!

"Hoooo!" she gasped, clenching her legs around his thigh another time and giving another dramatic shudder in his arms, apparently still coming a good thirty seconds after it had started. In a heaving, broken whisper, she told him, "I meant- to last longer- than that. I'm sorry I- kind of had it without your help."

"If you liked it, don't worry about it."

"I did. Oh god, I did. I can still feel it a little. Wait- as soon as it goes away, I'll let you-" She didn't finish; god bless the woman, there wasn't a comfortable word in her vocabulary for what she was going to let him do.

But he was still happily fucking her hip bone, and no matter how weird it was going to seem in the light of day tomorrow, it was doing the trick right now. "You don't have to, Maddy," he told her. "Stand here. Just like this."

The cool wetness of her lips touched the side of his chest as she planted a moist kiss there, and then he felt one of her slender hands close lightly around his cock. "It's fine," she promised quietly. "I know you'd rather have the real thing." Slowly, with the shy grip he had come to love in ten years of marriage, she pulled upward on his shaft with nothing but the tips of her fingers, and began to jerk him off.

"This is the real thing," he said. "All of this plenty real - everything you do. There's nowhere to lay down, and you're already happy. I don't need you to have sex with me. Just stay close to me and let me feel your skin."

"Like... like this?" she whispered, pressing him flat against the region of her hip again, this time a little more squarely on the sleek flesh of her upper thigh.

He launched into humping her again, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in an unexpectedly loud grunt of approval. He didn't have to answer her - as soon as he kicked back into his rhythm, she chuckled against his chest, sending a few little gusts of wind tickling across his torso, and she said, "Apparently we're just both in the mood to hump each other's legs tonight." Then, to make sure he wasn't offended, she added, "I had no idea it could be so good that way."

Lost in the slowly building pressure inside his eager cock, he let a chuckle slip out of his lungs, just to acknowledge her little funny, but didn't speak. Pumping against her leg with perfect abandon, feeling the dam begin to weaken a little already, he had no desire to come out of his zone long enough to speak. If it was a little weird, to hell with it. It wasn't like he was going to read about it in the paper in the morning, was it?

She continued to pop little kisses all over his chest and neck, but Maddy was completely out of her element; she didn't know how to let him go without participating. He felt her right hand slip back around to grab his butt, and then her left floated up to her own breast, squeezing it and molding it against his body to remind him that it was there. Struck with inspiration, she whispered, "I want to do something for you. Do you want to put it here again-?" she emphasized the soft globe of her breast against his midsection, but now that the madness was gone from her body, she couldn't say the words "do you want to put it between my breasts", so she let her breasts speak for themselves, "or would you like me to use my mouth?"

Feeling the deep, clenching power of an approaching ejaculation, Nick truly didn't care. But he knew his wife - he knew that she was hardwired to please him, not just to sit idle and let it happen on its own. He also realized, quite suddenly, that she hadn't put her lips around his cock for so many months he couldn't recall the last place it had happened, and then he remembered how good it felt when she did.

"Okay," he mumbled, still trying to hold himself in his zone. "I- you don't have to..." he stammered. He couldn't concentrate. He didn't want to concentrate.

She released his cock and slipped down his body fluidly - how did she know him so well? For a moment, there was nothing; the growing buildup of sperm settled like boiling water pulled off the burner, back into the bottom of the pot. Then, suddenly, her mouth closed around his member, her hand gripped him firmly down by his balls, and she gave him a wet, passionate suck, playing her tongue flat against the underside of his shaft. He buried his hands in her messy hair, jolted hard by the sudden change from the casual pressure between her palm and her hip to the tight vacuum of her mouth - jesus god, had she always been so good at that? Her head worked back and forth along the full length of him, sucking and licking, then sucking some more; she jerked at the base of his penis too, and then with her other hand she cupped his balls and gave them the gentlest squeeze - she had never done that before, and he had no idea where she had learned it; was his little Maddy sneaking in a little porn while Danny was napping? He groaned, feeling another chink break open in the dam; suddenly he was visualizing her in his mind, reclined on the couch with some wild fuck flick playing, rubbing herself off in the afternoon quiet - or did fantasy-Maddy have a dildo hiding somewhere? If he weren't already fully engaged with the eager thrusting of his pelvis and the groans of pleasure creeping out of him at every breath, he might have laughed out loud at the thought of Maddy masturbating; if there was one thing he could be pretty certain she wasn't doing behind his back, it was that. It was hard enough to get her into a sexual frame of mind under the most ordinary conditions; he couldn't imagine her having thoughts by herself.

But while she knelt in front of him in the almost perfect blackness and sucked his cock, the image worked for him in the absence of any true visual input, so he leaned his head back, savored the feeling of her juicy tongue firmly sliding around his glans, and pictured her in nothing but her panties on the couch. Her head was cocked off to one side, her eyes closed so tightly there were deep creases in the skin at the corners Her mouth was slack and her jaw hung open. Maddy Stewart, hand sneaking down into the front of her panties and dabbing at the slickness of her pussy; her face suddenly washing over with innocent confusion - my god, is it natural for a woman to do this to herself? he imagined her thinking, because that would surely be what the woman would think the first time she discovered that it felt good, even without Nick's help. Her other hand, cautiously slipping up her body to grope her big round breast, to pinch the nipple - he could spend all night with a hard-on, just picturing her big, perfect, motherly boobs hanging naked in the daylight while she fiddled with her pussy and moaned, oh god, oh my god, it feels so good!