My Dream Lover, or Is It?

I was 16 when mom remarried. At the time, I was in boarding school and met my new family only at the wedding and later once a year, every holiday.

My step father had two sons from his earlier marriage; both the boys were older than I. One was 18 and the other 19. After school, I went on to college and then started working. In all these years, I got a lot of support from my step-dad and some sage advice, whenever I needed a friendly shoulder.

At 23, I got posted to the same town as my mother's new family. My step-dad suggested that I could move in with them, thus save a substantial amount on rent and living expense. The offer was too good to pass up and I agreed.

My room, was a little away from the rest of the house, and had been used as a guest room, till I moved in. I had a separate entrance and could, if I wanted, go in and out, without the rest of the family knowing about it.

Before moving in, I had a long talk with my mother and we both agreed that I would not be bringing in any of my boyfriends home. I could if I wanted to stay out in the night, but this was allowed only on the weekends, same as the "boys". Since, I did not know anyone in the city and my new family had been so nice to me, I agreed.

My real dad had left mom for another woman, soon after I was born and had never bothered to help us out. Mom had been so hurt that she had not even taken child-support from him; she had raised me all by herself. For me, once I moved in, this was the first time that I had a real family. I loved playing board games with my "brothers" or the family dinners. The house always seemed to be full of laughter and fun.

My step-dad had been a widower when he married mom, and both the boys confessed that they had moved in after the wedding, since they missed having a real family too. The family dinner and the post-dinner coffee became a ritual with us and all of us looked forward to this quiet time after the hectic day at work.

While things couldn't be better at the family front, my personal life had completely gone for a toss. While moving in to this city, I had broken up with my boyfriend, and I had been dating him for 3 years. I hadn't met anyone yet that I found remotely interesting. A few of my colleagues had shown an interest in me, but somehow I found myself getting bored on the few dates I went out on. My mind would be running back home, and I found myself wanting to go back home earlier and earlier everyday. This new family was like a drug to me and I couldn't have enough of it.

The fallout of this situation was that I missed sex, a lot. I had always been aware of my urges, but of late it was like a switch had been flipped. Maybe it was because I was more confident now and comfortable with my body, or perhaps I missed it because I was used to getting it on a regular basis, but whatever the case I found that these days I was almost constantly horny. The presence of three hunky, sexy men around me did not help matters at all. I figured that I had masturbated more in the past month and a half, since moving in here, than I had in the two years I had been single after college. Back then I indulged maybe a couple times a week if I was really horny that week. Now it was almost everyday and I even did it a couple of times in one day, once when I woke up, after a particularly sexy dream, and then again before bed.

That night, after I had pleasured myself, I slipped into yet another hot dream. This time the dream was so vivid that I could actually feel it. I felt someone nibbling my neck, while his hands fondled my breasts. I had taken off my clothes earlier, and the effect of those hands on my breasts, felt like an electric current passed through my body. I arched up offering more of myself to my dream lover, inviting him to take more of me.

In my dream I could feel his heavy weight on top of me, pinning my arms to my sides with his legs so I can't struggle away. He forces my legs wide apart. I feel more exposed than I ever have, and still I can't help but feel myself growing damp between my thighs. I prayed that he wouldn't notice, but part of me knew that he would. His hands slide over my flesh; kneading my thighs and stomach roughly enough I was certain I'd be bruised.

I knew that I could not fight him off. He had me pinned to the bed, was on top of me and I didn't have stitch of clothing covering me. I shook my head to let him know that I would cooperate, but the pressure of his hand only increased. I gave in then, letting my body relax and gave in to his explorations.

He realized that the fight had gone from me; I was his to do as he pleased. He called me a filthy whore, and that he could smell my fear and desire just before slowly beginning to lick my exposed pussy almost tenderly. I writhed under his touch, disgusted with myself as I felt my arousal begin to burn in my groin far hotter than it ever had before.

His fingers plunged into me suddenly, I twisted and tried to squirm away, and he began to suck my clit. I could feel the bed growing damp underneath me from my juices, and I blushed in desire and shame. I began to feel hot as his thick fingers plunged into me roughly, and I could feel my muscles tighten down on his fingers, making them feel even bigger inside me. My head swam, and my body was afire, tingling everywhere with need. Orgasms over take me, and then suddenly, his mouth and fingers are gone...

My senses were hazy, in my half sleep, half dream state I can hear the sound of a zipper being yanked down. I shudder. It's not over yet, I think to myself, though my body still screams for more. All my senses are concentrated around his cock. His erection pulses, oozing with pre-cum eagerly as he stands beside the bed. He climbs between my legs, pressing his hard cock against my slick opening. He slides his erection against me, teasing my slippery sex. He tells me he wants me to beg him to fuck me, and I protest, tears running down my face. I am not sure why I am crying, I so badly need to feel him inside me.

He continues to slide himself against me, and I weakly ask him to fuck me, my words barely audible. He slaps me, and demands I say it louder. I sob, and comply. He says it's my lucky night.

With one hard stroke, he slams himself inside me, bruising my flesh a little in the process. He slams himself inside me, all the while saying I'm a dirty girl. I feel myself growing lightheaded, and I can feel that familiar tingling. I cry out in pleasure as much as protest, but I seem to have lost all words at the moment. I orgasm again, and he continues to thrust, extending the sensation for what seems like hours to me. I hear his breathing become erratic, and he continues to fuck me hard and without mercy. His breathing was ragged and he moaned as I felt the length of his cock throb and pump into me. I just lay beneath him as he fell on top of me and continued to pump his pulsing cock into me. After maybe ten minutes or so he just settled down and lay on top of me with his cock still deep inside of me. I felt a bit of liquid gush past his cock and it ran down my butt onto the sheets. I didn't care anymore, I slid into another dream. I let him have me all night long.

I awoke alone, and the first thing I thought was it had all been a dream like so many times before. This time though was a little different, I was naked and my body ached pleasantly in various places. In one horror filled moment, I realized that the events of last night were real and not a dream. I had been taken by either my step father or one of my step brothers and I did not know who it was; all 3 men in the house had a similar built, large, stocky but athletic.

Hearing voices outside, I decided to get up. My knees still felt incredibly weak, and I couldn't even walk straight - I had been well and truly fucked. I decided to take a shower and get dressed. As I join the rest of the family, I look for signs of acknowledgment, some signal that might let me know who it was. I can see no tell-tale signs and am none the wiser. I guess I'll have to wait till tonight to find out, that is if he decides to visit me again.