Insomnia: Where Worlds Meet


This one goes out to all the insomniacs out there: I am one of them, and at this very moment I am writing this at 1 in the morning, because of this terrible habit.

* * *

It was one of those nights.

Those of you who are reading this who are insomniacs know what I’m talking about. For those of you who are not, count yourself lucky.

It was one of those nights when the line between the real and the unreal seems to blur, even disappear entirely. One of those nights when you could have sworn there were 53 flowers on those curtains, but tonight you’re counting 54. It was one of those nights.

And I could stand it no longer.

Six nights it had been since I last slept. Six nights. From my place in the bed, I looked across at the bedside clock.


1:13 am.


I could swear that second hand just went counter-clockwise…


Definitely counter-clockwise.


Damn you clock, what the fuck do you know…


Stop fucking ticking…


Stop fucking ticking…


Stop fucking ticking…


1:14 am.

I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, stretching my arms over my head. My eyes fell over the naked form of my wife, sleeping soundly under the blankets on the other side of the bed.

Oh, my beautiful Kaitlyn. 5’6″… four inches shorter than myself… thin, shoulder-length curly escort istanbul red hair, beautifully peaceful face. Under the blankets, where I could not see, were her pert breasts, her perfectly flat stomach, and further down, the slightest red curls of pubic hair, and a cute, tiny ass. I could see your whole body in my mind, if not with my eyes.

For a moment, I am jealous of her ability to just sleep like that. How do people do it? God damn. Maybe I’m just fucked up.

I trudge into the adjoining bathroom, quickly turning the tap on and splashing hot water on my face. As the droplets ran down my skin, I looked up, into my eyes in the mirror.

My name is Daniel. I’m 24, 5’10”, well built, cropped brown hair. My hand caressed my chin, reminding me that I needed to shave.

Still naked, I left the bathroom, walked out into the kitchen, my hands searching through the left-overs of last night’s pizza. I picked up a slice of cold Hawaiian and make my way over to the couch, picking up the remote and turning on the TV as I did. I threw myself onto the couch, sprawled out like a slob as I ate my cold, left-over pizza.

I found myself watching one of those cheap, “do-it-yourself” cooking shows. Some unknown fat bloke was showing me how to make… god, what was that mess?

My brain is numbed as I flick through the channels. Sports games, old re-runs of soapies, more cheap cooking shows.

I turned the TV off and threw down the escort bayan istanbul remote in annoyance, my attention now turning to the piece of pizza in my hand. Without a care in the world, I pick a hair off the pizza, before taking a big bite. How I hated the taste of cold pizza.

After I had finished the piece, my hand trailed down my stomach and rested against my genitals. For a moment I tried to fight off the need, but before I knew it my hand was running its way along the length of my shaft. I closed my eyes, laying my head back against the end of the couch, letting my mind slip away.

Of course, I could no longer tell what was real and what wasn’t.

And so, naturally, I thought it was real when the gorgeous blonde wrapped her lips around my cock.

We were… we were on a beach, but there was no-one else there. We were both naked, myself lying on my back on a beach towel, and her with her face in the middle of my lap. I looked down, but all I could see from here was her mane of golden hair, and instinctively my hand reached out and ran through her hair as her tongue licked my shaft. I moaned as she took a little more of my cock in her mouth, her tongue still working its way over my cock as she swallowed more and more of my meat. I could feel myself expanding in her mouth, threatening to gag her, but still she did not slow down, taking in progressively more and more of my cock until she had nearly the entirety of my massive bayan escort istanbul dick in her mouth, her tongue still gliding up and down my length as her head began to bob up and down on my crotch. I grabbed fistfuls of her golden hair in my hands, pulling her hair, but if she noticed she did not react nor slow down as I moaned in exhilaration. Her hand now formed a fist around the base of my cock, all that she could not take into her mouth, and began to stroke my cock in rhythm with her head movements.

This was too much, and I felt myself beginning to erupt in her mouth.

“Oh, shit, I’m cumming…” I heard myself whisper, my hands now letting go of her hair to apply force to the back of her head, forcing her to take in more and more of my dick, just before the first of my semen flew from my cock, straight down the back of her throat. She deep-throated my cock and began to swallow like a pro, taking in all of my cum not once, but twice, three, four times. I moaned one last time, before my cock gave up its efforts and began to grow limp in her mouth. She slowly removed it, still licking all along its length, before it finally came out of her mouth. She looked up, and for a moment my eyes met with hers, those deliciously blue pools threatening to suck me in…

And then I was back in “the other world” again, my hand now drifting away from my cock, the evidence of my orgasm all over the couch, floor, and on my thighs. I looked down again, and for a moment there seemed to be a shadow there, but I summed it down to my mind playing tricks on me.

And then, for the first time in six nights, I slept, a tiny smile creeping onto my face as my mind finally began to drift away…

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