But it didn't. Instead it straddled me. It hovered over my body and I didn't dare blink. I couldn't. It gave me the best chance to have my best up-close look at what this was. What I saw...I don't know what I saw. I couldn't look through it so it seemed solid. Up close it seemed like it was made of smoky, flowing, shadows. Inky tendrils of itself separating and floating up, dissipating. And I was right. It had no face. Just a blank, black, smoking expanse between what would have been its chin and the top of its head. It was face shaped, oval or so, but it was blank. Like staring into the void and feeling in your bones that it was staring back at you. The lust that had been building in me had me wanting to kiss this void. I wanted to bury my face it in. The only thing holding me back was my fear. Fear and desire battling each other inside my chest.
But the desire inside me was building rapidly. I could hear it drumming in my ears. I could feel it in my veins, tensing my muscles and joints. Fear and lust pulsing through me, all centering between my legs. Pushing my cock to a hardness I'd never felt before. My entire being wanting to explode out the end of it. Open mouthed I watched as it raised its hand and spread out its fingers. Smokey digits like human fingers touching my bare chest. The icy, burning caress freezing the already cold sweat on my skin. What breath I was drawing in caught in my throat. My body shivered with its touch, my skin turning white as it slowly drew its fingers down my chest and stomach. I felt that cold burn around my cock while this thing sat down on me. It didn't feel any weight, it had substance but no mass. All I could feel was the cold burning, vise-like grip it held on my cock. Arching my back and pressing my hips into it. White cold fear and lust driving my hips up as far as I could. Though it had no weight it moved with me, up with my hips and then back down, faster and faster. Moving into it with no other thought in my head then to drive my hips up harder and harder and harder.
I felt cold and fuzzy as this creature rode me, leaning back and but seeming to be looking down at me. The warmth of my body being pulled from my arms and legs. My face felt clammy and pasty. Draining of color like the rest of my body, everything running directly to my cock, driving deeper into the icy hot depth of this being. My hips moving on their own. The mattress springs creaking louder and louder. The headboard rocking and knocking against the wall. My cock burning and growing. My breath held in my throat, mouth open. Wanting to moan, and scream out at the top of my lungs in ecstasy
This frantic fucking carried on for what seemed like the rest of my life. No matter how hard and fast I threw my hips up it wasn't enough to trigger my orgasm. Wild eyed, grunting and groaning now with the want, the desire, the desperate and absolute need to cum inside my shadow lover. Sweating with exertion, my sheets cold and wet under me, clenched between my numb fingers. My lap burning cold where this thing was sitting on me.
The burning in my cock grew more and more intense. One-two-three-four-five more thrusts and the dam in my testicles broke. I felt as if everything in my body rushed out through the end of my cock. All warmth draining out of me through my cock, the icy vise sapping it from me. I could feel my body growing cold, colder than I thought was possible without dying. Like part of me was being sucked out of me. My skin was tightening around my muscles with a sharp, pinching pain. My heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest. My breath was heavy in my non-functioning lungs. I couldn't support my body with my arms anymore. They gave away and I fell back on my pillows. Back arched up high and tight, my mouth working for breath, opening and closing in vain like a fish out of water, as I emptied myself of everything I had in me into the living, coupling, shadow.
I could only stare, I still hadn't blinked since this whole scenario started. I could only stare and watch the shadow spread a hand over its...where its middle, midsection, its stomach...or where its stomach would be. It held its hand there, like it was full, or pleased. Why would it do that? It held its hand there, I could see it do this. It held its hand there as it started to slowly dissipate. Its inky blackness dissolving like smoke caught in a breeze. Wafting and floating up and away, rasping out that blood curdling sound again as it disappeared.
I woke bolt up-right in bed, gasping for breath, as if I had been holding my breath without knowing it. My first lungful of breath making choking me, causing my stomach to turn and lurch. The whole room reeking of spoiled, hot garbage and burning hair. Leaping out of my sweat and urine (I had pissed my bed out fear of this dream) soaked bed and tripping over my wadded up bed-sheet on the floor, I scrambled to the bathroom, throwing the toilet cover up with a loud clank and vomiting violently into the bowl. Gagging and heaving, muttering and crying into the toilet. Spitting and sitting back against the bathroom wall, the acid burning sensation in my nose and the back of my throat. Groaning and shivering, trying to collect myself and shake this awful feeling of dread, scared to death to go back into my bedroom. I spent the rest of the night there on the bathroom floor. Shivering, naked and afraid.
It was well into the afternoon when I finally moved myself off the bathroom floor and saw myself in the mirror for the first time. I swear, I looked older. There were deeper lines around my mouth and eyes. My hair seemed faded slightly in color. I could see the red, finger-width sized welts down my chest. I followed them down my stomach to my crotch, which stung when I touched it. Looking down, my whole crotch was tender to the touch. Cock, balls, and thighs were a bright, pinkish-red, like the onset of frostbite. After a hot shower I collected my dirty sheets and everything else I would need out of my bedroom and closed the room off.
Was it real? It felt real. It felt so real I haven't spent a night in that room since. My friends think I'm fucking crazy. They tell me either I need professional help or that I should stop drinking before bed. But, it felt real. The marks, that's proof, right? Its frostbite, not some rash like the doctor said, right? It really happened to me, didn't it? I'm not going crazy, am I?
