The Sibling Pact: A Somnophilia Story
Delilah Cole
The Sibling Pact: A Somnophilia Story
Delilah Cole
Delilah Cole
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Introduction
side. Sit back and enjoy.
Delilah Cole likes to write naughty, smutty short stories. When she's not writing, she's reading books in the same genre. Delilah is a crazy animal lover, and although she finds it difficult to remember the names of people five seconds after she's met them, Delilah can tell you the name of someone's dog she met thirty years ago.
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of Edenbrook, a peculiar event unfolded at the local convenience store. Stacy, a Twenty-One-year-old cashier with a penchant for horror novels, found a strange book titled "The Dreams of the Unaware." The cover art was unnerving, yet she couldn't resist purchasing it. She had no idea the book would soon become more than just a source of chills.
The evening was sticky with the heat of an unrelenting summer. Stacy trudged home, her shift at the store finally over, the soles of her shoes sticking to the pavement. The house she shared with her two older brothers, Mike and Jeff, was a beacon of cool air on the humid night. She couldn't wait to sink into her bed and lose herself in the eerie pages she'd just bought.
Her bedroom was plastered with band posters and fairy lights. The air conditioner hummed a comforting lullaby as she changed into her favorite oversized T-shirt and shorts. She cracked open the book, its pages whispering secrets of the night. Her heart thumped in her chest as she read about the ancient ritual that allowed one to tap into the sensual dreams of another. She told herself that it was just a story, but something about it made her skin crawl and her cheeks flush.
The first dream came as a surprise, a deliciously wicked intrusion into her slumber. Stacy felt a pair of hands caressing her body, exploring her curves with an intimate familiarity that sent a jolt of excitement through her. She was powerless to stop the sensations, her mind a whirl of confusion and burgeoning arousal. Each night, the dreams grew more vivid, the touches more insistent, and her body responded in ways she never knew possible. Her mornings were met with wet panties and hardened nipples, a secret thrill she didn't dare share with anyone.
Stacy's older brothers had always been protective, but lately, their gazes had been lingering a moment too long. Mike, with his piercing blue eyes, and Jeff, with his mischievous smirk, both seemed to be hiding something from her. The tension in the house thickened with each passing day, charged with an undercurrent she couldn't quite place.
One evening, as she emerged from her room, Stacy overheard a snippet of hushed conversation between Mike and Jeff. Their words sent a shiver down her spine: "It's working." "Yeah, she's so into it." "But we can't let her find out." The door clicked shut before she could catch more, leaving her with a jumble of emotions. Fear and curiosity battled within her as she realized that her dreams might not be so innocent after all. Would they really sneak into her room? And why were her panties getting wet at the thought?
The following night, unable to bear the suspense, Stacy set a trap for her brothers. She pretended to fall asleep early, leaving her bedroom door a crack open. She lay awake, her heart pounding in her chest, listening for any signs of movement. Hours later, she heard the soft tread of footsteps approaching her room, the floorboards creaking under the weight of a cautious step. She felt the bed dip as someone sat beside her, and a tremor of anticipation coursed through her body.
The hands from her dreams found her in the darkness, warm and insistent. Stacy bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut, as she recognized the scent of Mike's cologne mingling with the faint musk of Jeff's aftershave. The reality of the situation crashed into her like a wave of cold water. Her mind reeled with the truth—they had been the ones invading her most private thoughts, touching her in her sleep. Yet, instead of fear, she felt a strange mix of arousal.
Her body responded as if it had been waiting for this very moment, her nipples hardening to the point of pain as someone—she wasn't sure if it was Mike or Jeff—began to suckle her left breast. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of pleasure and shock that made her toes curl. A soft, wet sound filled the room, the rhythmic pull on her sensitive flesh sending a jolt of electricity to her core. Her breaths grew shallow, and she willed her body to remain still, not wanting to give herself away.
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