Dark Desires Of The Stolen Night

When Your Dreams Leak Into Your Real Life

The moon’s been staring at my dark desires all night, fat and silver, like she knows I’m restless. It’s kind of like a sneaky affair. I lit a candle and it sputtered like it was laughing at me. That was rude, as I wasn’t in the mood to be mocked by fire. My fingers smelled like incense and wax, and I swear I felt the room thicken, like the air itself was pressing into my skin. This is the moment I remembered that I’m not just horny, OMG I am haunted by dark desires.

It’s wild how sometimes I don’t even know if it’s me or something else pulling those kinky strings. As if I’m a witch or a puppet? To be curled up in my thick, soft blanket one moment. Next, I’m squeezing my pillow in between my thighs with my eyes rolling in the back of my head. Those moments bring so much pleasure. You’d think I was about to explode. If you’ve ever been so turned on by something like this happens to you, then yeah! I can say those moments bring the most out of this world orgasms.

That’s the whole trap of dark desires.

I’ll tell you something wild. Sometimes I swear when I touch myself, I feel other hands. Not just mine. Not soft either. Stronger. Hungrier. Like the kind of grip that says you’re mine now, don’t fight it. Do I fight it? Hell no. I spread wider. I moan louder. And then I feel guilty for like two seconds, because isn’t that what good girls are supposed to feel? But I was never a good girl and I’m too seasoned to start lying now. That’s the fun of living inside dark desires.

There was this dream—no, not dream, more like a memory wrapped in fantasy. Deep in this dream state, I dream of the perfect fuck without anyone being there. Face on the bed, ass in the air, and strong hands on my waist. I couldn’t see him in my dream. Feeling what I need makes me feel so deep. What follows was only something that could come from my dark desires.

His booming voice telling me to fuck him

That made me cum alone. As I thrust; I felt him. He was inside of me in an astounding way. I felt him cum, I felt myself cum. Both of us surrendering to this fantasy fuck that topped real life. Then I woke up. Hot, sticky, and wet. I knew it was my dream but i need more as I closed my eyes. First, thinking of the dream. Then, I drifted to my body. Rubbing my hands on my huge tits and then down in between my thighs. Ingulfed by this crazy mass of dark desire.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m summoning someone out there when I do this. Like, maybe every orgasm is a beacon, lighting up the night sky, calling in whoever’s tuned to my frequency. Silly thoughts? Maybe. But tell me why I always wake up with the smell of smoke in my room, or why the candles burn lower than they should, or why my dreams taste like iron and honey. Something’s listening. Something’s watching. Watch me, it feels good. Don’t judge me. These are just the rituals of my dark desires.

There’s nothing polished about my sex life, and I’m not trying to be. As it’s wild, impulsive and shall I say FUN!! Perfect is boring. That doesn’t make you sweat. Perfect doesn’t leave claw marks on your chest. No, perfection doesn’t live here. Only dark desires do.

I wonder if you’re willing or brave enough to share all of your dark desires with me?

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