A Very Heavy Sleeper

Story by Joshiah on SoFurry

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#1 of Somnophilia Stories

Irving's been having a little trouble falling asleep lately, but thanks to some help from his girlfriend, Bridgette, he's finally getting a good night of sleep in this commission, plucked right from his sweetest dreams.

The aforementioned Irving begins the story stressed and struggling to sleep, even though he's got a big day ahead of him. Bridgette is no stranger to those kinds of struggles, and she offers him some of her favorite advice and some classic aromatherapy to get the job done.

She's amazed at how quickly Irving ends up falling asleep, but when he passes out, one part of his body stays awake for some fun...and Bridgette's sleep sex kink gets the better of her. After all, she can't fall asleep until she's had a little fun, and she knows the sleeping Irving is a willing participant in her nocturnal passions.

The only thing that remains to be seen is if she can contain all the evidence of what she's done!

-

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As always, read, comment and enjoy!


"I'm sure you did an amazing job out there today, sweetie. You really shouldn't beat yourself up over the little things, so much..."

One dish could have used another pinch of salt, another could have been pulled from the range just a few seconds earlier, and yet one more should have been given a few extra seconds to set before it was taken out to the customer, resulting in a less than perfect presentation.

The devil was in the details, and he was tormenting Irving every step of the way, as the poor canine tossed and turned against the covers.

"I know you mean well, love...but...I just can't get over it," he confessed. "If I'm gonna bother with the job in the first place, every plate needs to be perfect ; if I go too easy on myself, I'll just be even sloppier the next day."

"Did you ever think that the fact that you were sleeping so poorly might have something to do with your mental slips?" Bridgette asked, her cheek propped on her palm and her elbow digging into the pillow so she could address him properly: she wanted him to know that she took this matter very seriously. "You keep beating yourself up over the smaller mistakes, so much that you're losing sleep over it...and going into work on a poor night of sleep is only going to make matters worse."

In her own line of work, little details could be the difference between getting another freelancing job, and accidentally leaving a vulnerability in the backdoor of a firewall; she couldn't afford to sleep poorly, either.

"And so the vicious cycle continues," Irving groaned, knowing that she was right. "But what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Given that the usual methods are only wearing you out physically ," she teased, letting the meaning of her words dangle over his thoughts, "Perhaps you could try something that's always worked for me?"

"And that is?"

Bridgette rolled over to the other side and pushed a tiny button on the odd, vial-shaped object on her nightstand. A soft glow swelled up from the wooden façade around the bottom, and the plastic tubing near the top took on an entire rainbow of different colors, each one delicate and soothing to the eyes.

Seconds later, a mist rolled up and through the end of the vial, and the most pleasant blend of lavender and vanilla tickled the air...potent enough that it could overcome the other foods that left Irving nose-blind after a long day of work, but not so much that they were irritating to his sensibilities.

"After a long, stressful day, especially before you came around, I used to turn on these essential oils at night...the combination is supposed to be both a stress reliever, and a sleep inducer. I'm sure a lot of that is placebo, but between that scent, the light, and the little bit of white noise, it always ended up working for me."

It could have been the kindness in her gesture that made the machine work with such immediate effect, but Irving's stresses were already melting away, replaced with a tiny, but genuine smile at her efforts.

"It must be placebo effect," he agreed. "No way that some lavender and vanilla would work this fast...you sure you didn't put something else in that diffuser?"

"If I'd done that, don't you think I'd be getting sleepy, too?" she reminded him. "I think I'm pretty well used to it by now, but if it's gonna help you fall asleep and stay asleep, I'm more than happy to run it again, for old time's sake...and yours."

To have such a caring girlfriend was already a gift, but to have one that would listen to his concerns about his work and try to help him through them, especially after her own busy, difficult day...that was a blessing that Irving would never take for granted.

Leaning up just enough to steal a quick kiss from her lips, he curled back to the other side and dropped his head into the pillow, knowing how badly he needed a good night of rest; the sooner he could get started on that, the better.

"You really are the best, Bridgette...I love you so much."

Irving was curled up on his side in a matter of seconds, but he remained conscious long enough to feel the affectionate brush of her tiny lips against the side of his muzzle. "Love you too, big guy. Sweet dreams, hm?"

His response was a quiet rumble of affection and a brief twitch, but the combination of lavender and vanilla was a potent bouquet, finding the fine line between helping Irving relax and knocking him right the hell out.

Bridgette felt fortunate to be able to watch her boyfriend fall asleep like that, all told. Just knowing that he had finally experienced some kind of relief was a relief to her in turn, and seeing the tired, goofy smile that crossed his lips before the first snore rattled his muzzle, she knew that he was finally going to get some sleep that evening, which was more than she could say about the week previous.

She also hadn't anticipated that one part of his body would be so stubborn about resting, but the lack of sleep was making it difficult for Irving to perform at his usual pace and vigor...and just as he rolled flat onto his back and shuffled under the covers, Bridgette captured the sight of a full, tented erection near the middle of the bed, illuminated only by the low, soothing light of the diffuser.

"...And where has that enthusiasm been all week?" she asked, her voice a nearly silent tease of the sleeping canine; she knew that he couldn't help being a little less than his best, right then. "Figures that you'd go and pitch a tent when I'm trying to sleep, too..."

Irving had his own distractions to worry about with work, but Bridgette was a little better at turning off that part of her brain at the end of the day.

What she wasn't so great at was overlooking the way that her boyfriend's member twitched and bounced against the bedspread...and as she licked her lips and took in more of the diffused scent, she began to wonder if there might be some truth about the combination being as much of a natural aphrodisiac, as it was a natural stress reliever.

"There's no way I'm gonna be able to sleep next to that thing...he...h-he'd understand if I just had to climb on top and give it a quick sample, right?" she whispered to herself, knowing that Irving was always happy to be stirred awake by the naughty little mouse...but in those instances, it didn't matter if he woke up or not.

She wasn't sure that she'd be able to properly work out her own frustrations without stirring him from his sleep, but as a fingertip settled between her thighs and captured a hint of the moisture that was gathering at her soft, silky petals, she made up her mind that she was going to try , no matter the consequences.

"He'll fall right back asleep, even if I do manage to wake him up," she thought aloud, as she gripped the covers and started the slow, stealthy process of rolling them down from his torso. "I'll just tell him he's having a really sweet dream or something...he might not even know the difference!"

If there was any angel that could come to Irving in a dream, it would have been Bridgette; there were plenty of occasions before then that started with the mouse letting her paws wander, and more often than not, Irving would only wake up just in time to help her clean up the mess.

She could never tell just how deep his sleep really was, but that time, she was convinced that she could find the right balance of technique and pressure to keep from roiling him out of his dreams...

...She only hoped that the reality she'd create was as pleasant as the dreams that currently held him.

"Just have to be really, really careful...really delicate," she said, but her voice was little more than a whisper, the weight of those words so gentle that they wouldn't make any sort of impact on Irving's leg, even as she moved down the front of it and tugged the sheets away from his naked body. "Expose him a little at a time so the temperature shift doesn't bother him...let that big, throbbing cock out...and...get a grip of yourself before you grip him a little too hard..."

Ever since Irving put Bridgette on the path of coming out of her shell, she'd been raising the bar for herself in silence, wanting to outperform the timid little mouse that she used to be; she knew that Irving was just happy to have such pleasant company in the first place, but she, too, held herself to a standard that could be a source of stress.

She wanted to give him her very best whenever she had the chance, and in the bedroom, wrapping her digits around the plentiful flesh of his shaft and guiding the quivering tip to her lips was only ever the first step.

He's already drooling precum on my tongue, she thought, having to bite back a quiet, but powerful rumbling of delight from escaping her throat. Don't tell me he was playing under the sheets before he fell asleep when I was right there to take care of it for him...?

She didn't think he would have hidden such a thing from her on purpose...or, if he had, he would have done it with the intention of getting caught.

Must have been a coincidence...but he has no idea what a wonderful surprise this is for me, her train of thought continued, spurred on by the lewd act unfolding in Irving's unconscious lap. Stressed as he'd been, I can tell that he's still worried about my needs, and...I feel like I haven't been able to take care of his , either...this...this is gonna be wonderful.

Balance was important in any relationship, and when someone brought the stress of their work home, it was a surefire way to disrupt that balance and let things get out of hand.

On one hand, Bridgette admired her boyfriend for having such drive to improve himself and advance his career, but she didn't want him to overlook the good things that he already had...and though she shocked herself with such a bold thought, she hoped that he considered her one of the good things within his grasp.

After all, I'm already swirling my tongue over the tip of his cock while he sleeps, taking care of his desires when he can't even answer to them...he'd better consider this is a good thing, she thought.

They'd had more than a few discussions about how much Irving enjoyed waking up to the sight of Bridgette struggling with his length, but those days, she didn't have anywhere near the same amount of strain that she did before: she was growing blissfully accustomed to the way that the tip of his cock swabbed at her throat when she was only nearing the middle of the shaft, and her efforts were always rewarded with something more than the plentiful cream that ended up swirling around in her stomach.

She didn't need to work for that affection, of course. Irving was happy to share that with her regardless, but being able to return the favor by bobbing her maw slightly on the tip of his length while he slept seemed a perfectly fair trade off...and one did that wonders for her confidence, as much as it did wonders for Irving's concerns about life.

Almost a shame that you're not waking up, she thought, grinning around her mouthful. I can only imagine how far you'd spear my throat on this fucking beast if you were awake enough to grab the back of my head...and just push...just gag me like I always think you're going to...

Their relationship didn't require a certain amount of sex to work, nor did it require a particular quality...but as the months had gone by, Bridgette was becoming more and more adventurous.

As she worked her way further down the shaft, holding it steady and appreciating every single throb of the larger veins along the underside, she could taste memories of herself struggling at that point, choking and gagging herself for fear that Irving might get bored of her if she couldn't reach the balls...only to find his comforting paw brushing along the side of her face when she failed, and a bowl of ice cream to be waiting for her in the kitchen to ease her tired throat.

He'd worked with her all the way through, assuring her that she didn't need to be able to do that for him; adventuresome as she'd become, she eventually stopped caring about whether he needed that treatment or not, wanting to do it for herself.

In the lowlight of the diffuser, even Irving might have missed just how much of a bulge was pushing against the edges of her neck, but she was still working her way further down, until the very tiniest bit of her tongue was able to tickle the very top end of his sack...and even stuffed to the brim and pressed on by his flesh, her vocal chords still managed to produce a tiny, adorable giggle.

Made it all the way down...bet you'd be so proud of me if you were awake to see it, she mentally cheered herself on, wishing that she could hear Irving's praises for that effort...although, feeling them was a wonderful consolation prize. Actually...you'd probably be crying out and warning me about what a mess you were about to make...about the load you were about to fill me up with...

She was small enough that she could actually see the imprint of his cock against her pubic mound when he was fucking her, but she wasn't so adept to be able to see that same bulge in her throat as she eased back.

She could see how much of a glistening mess she'd left behind on his manhood when it was left to twitch in the air before her, but seeing it pent up, throbbing and dripping like that, she could only gaze upon it so long before it was akin to feast: appreciating the meal with only her eyes would have been an insult to a chef that had prepared her such a wonderful dish.

It was meant to be consumed, and only the flicker of her tongue of her lips was offered as a warning before she opened wide and took the whole head into her maw again; a rapid, thorough pumping from the back of her head was going to get him off before too much longer, and through wincing eyes, she was trying to see if Irving was going to stir awake...

...But she'd already allowed herself to get too far carried away.

Oh, shit. He's cumming...hurry up and swallow!

He still didn't stir, thanks to the impressive depths of the aroma therapy that he'd fallen under, but Bridgette was convinced that he would spring right awake if a strand of his own seed was allowed to fly back onto his chest or stomach.

Wide eyed and struggling, she tried to keep an eye on his expression, but as far as she could tell in the middle of rapid, thorough suckling, he was so deep asleep that even the tight grip of her lips around the middle of his tool and the rapid swallowing of her neck around his tip didn't manage to shake him from his dreams.

Some part of her wanted to be insulted, but she recalled the first time she used her aroma therapy kit to fall asleep, and the memory of almost missing her work alarm brought her around to how powerful those scents could be.

Still...that he was able to sleep through all this...

Her train of thought took pause as she waited, keeping a paw on his orbs to hold them until she couldn't feel the deeper, stronger pulse of his orgasm any longer. She offered a squeeze around the girth of his knot as a pleasantry, knowing a simulated tie would be a better way to keep him asleep than denying his flesh that pleasure...but feeling that shape in her grasp wasn't going to wake him up, just yet.

What it did stir awake was a terribly naughty thought, one far beyond the idea of curing her oral fixation with a midnight snack.

He doesn't know how much I've been practicing for that, does he? I've even left some toys out and some hints about what I've been doing, but...he hasn't said a thing...probably doesn't suspect a thing, either...

Swallowing another proper, fulfilling gulp of his seed into her gullet and easing back from the tip of his member, Bridgette was flustered, almost frustrated to see that his cock was still twitching at the air with a proper erection, but she was absolutely brilliant at making lemonade out of the lemons of life.

She wouldn't be able to sleep next to such an impressive cock while it was hard and ready to go, but she was sure she could outlast her boyfriend, even when he wasn't awake to match her efforts.

And he's still leaking that nice, slick cum...he's got so much to give...should be more than enough to keep me lubricated while I try it...

Gliding a single digit through the fresh trail of his spilled ejaculated, Bridgette teased that fingertip to the hood of her own clit in a slow, easy circle, knowing that she needed more of a warmup than that...but she wasn't going to go to the trouble of finding her other toys for the occasion.

She was excited, bordering on giddy about the idea of getting to know the weight of his flesh in her tailhole for the first time.

I really feel like I should wake him up for this, but...if I don't, then I can always spring it on him later and consider it a surprise, she thought. Just throw the idea out there and when he tells me that he's worried about tearing me in half, show him that I can hack it...at least a little bit.

Taking the entirety of his flesh in her womanhood was literally impossible, given the difference in their size...but Bridgette found a certain, fulfilling comfort in knowing the pressure of his member against the furthest reaches of her womanhood.

In theory, she'd be able to take him in her tailhole a little bit deeper with practice, but owning up to her idea was going to take a little more than gusto and gumption.

Rubbing the tender, blissfully sensitive nub of her clit was a good start, but that was only enough to cause a clench in the muscles of her vaginal passage; it was, of course, a necessary distraction from the pressure she was about to feel, as she clumsily stood up and lowered herself slightly, only having to squat a little bit to kiss the warmth of her tailhole against the tip of his cock.

Safety first, she remembered, as she allowed the long, thin flesh of her tail to wrap around the head of his member and glide down just slightly, setting a cut-off point for herself. Any deeper than that, and we're both gonna have one hell of a rude awakening...

Thus far, she'd only been able to take the shortest of her toys into her backside with any proficiency, and those weren't always the thickest; that made for a delightful surprise, when the tapered tip of a canine length teased back and forth over the stretch of her rear entrance...and at the slightest dip of penetration, Bridgette sucked in a breath, breaking all the rules that she'd already learned.

Focus on your clit, doofus...

Swirling her finger again, she caused a curl in her toes and a quick, outward push of her sex, but the pucker of her asshole relaxed just enough to allow that first inch of his tip inside of her, finding the pleasant warmth of her own spittle and the last of his offered seed.

It was quite the welcome sensation, and fresh precum was already joining the mix as she eased herself a little further back, working the next inch into her body with a little more confidence.

What I wouldn't give you for you wake up right now and tell me that this was what you'd always wanted, she fantasized without shame, able to imagine him throwing her over the edge of the bed and throttling her asshole, unrealistic as it might have been.

She didn't care much about realism when her boyfriend was dreaming in the first place. Rather, she hoped he was dreaming about exactly that: about probing every inch of her most forbidden depths with his impressive length, while she struggled her way through guiding the third inch into the real thing.

What I wouldn't give...just to have you rubbing my clit, instead...calling me a good girl and leaning your full weight into me as you break me... please wake up and do it, Irving!

The mouse knew her boyfriend well enough to know that if she was simply bold enough to ask, Irving would give it a conscious try, but to not have the fear of judgement, nor the pressure of expectation...that made for an even greater pleasure as she squeezed and squatted low enough to ease the fourth and fifth inches of Irving's girthy cock into her tailhole.

Right then, she felt the resistance of the makeshift stopper that was her own tail, and disappointed, she was mindful of her limits, and the lack of practice that she was still making up for; it was nearly impossible in the heat of the moment, but she knew she needed to ease back, toward the tip.

Of course...that wouldn't stop her from lowering herself again and starting a slow, eager pace on the first few inches of his member, finding it the perfect compliment to the eager, rapid circles she drew on her own clit, and the feverish thrusts of her fingertips, probing into the dripping petals of her womanhood.

Nope...nope. That feels way too good, she realized, as her toes gripped that much tighter into the sheets, threatening to dig holes in the fabric with her sharp, tiny nails. That fucking settles it, though...the next time he's fucking me from behind, while I'm bent over the bed...I'm gonna grab his wrist, guide his thumb right to my asshole and tell him to figure it out...

She knew she wouldn't be able to contain herself if she moved any faster, but with her tail as a safety measure, she was able to make the most of the few inches that she could handle.

Bucking herself that much faster and timing up every push of her fingers to give her the rare treat of a proper, dual penetration, she fingered herself as deep as her palm would reach at the peak of every bounce, until she could almost imagine a second cock taking the place of her digits.

Somehow, she still only saw Irving before her, penetrating both passages at once as she coated the front, ethereal length in a proper, squirting length of her feminine juices...and further impossible was the way that she stifled her gasp when she saw what massive gush of ejaculate she'd offered up to the bed.

Guess those rumors about putting a toy in your ass to make it easier weren't just rumors...oh fuck, I'm still squirting! Don'twakeupdon'twakeup-

Her thoughts went blank as the coil of her tail failed her: she was sitting a full six inches on his length, that throbbing flesh buried in her tailhole and rattling her from the inside out.

The unconscious canine throbbed with his second orgasm of the evening, pumping an impressive load of warm, virile cum into the passage and forcing Bridgette to clasp both of her paws over the tiny, adorable muzzle, just in time to muffle the high-pitched squeal of her own climax...

...But she'd never be able to explain the massive, lengthy streak of her squirted arousal, soaking the edge of the bed a simply incredible volume...