This post discusses sleep sex (and sleep ‘other things’). Everything that happens here is 100% consensual, with a guy I trust a lot, and with whom I have had numerous conversations about sleep shagging. It is not an endorsement to go ahead and do this with people who you haven’t had similar conversations with, obviously.
Apparently on Saturday night I kept a guy awake for hours by repeatedly wrapping my arms round him and begging him to touch my tits.
Yeah, that’s weird, isn’t it?
I was also either 100% asleep for the entire thing, or I have suffered selective amnesia. When he explained to me, very patiently, on Sunday morning that he was a bit knackered ‘because of your weird midnight nipple demands’ you could have knocked me down with a feather. You could also have knocked him down with a feather, because – thinking I was awake – he kindly acquiesced, until eventually he fell asleep on me for a while before I woke him up for more.
This is definitely not the first time I have tried to get it on with dudes while I am asleep. At Uni, my nighttime brain was clearly pretty active, and on a fair few occasions I’d wake up to find myself grinding against the bloke I was in bed with. Sometimes rubbing his nipples or gripping his dick. As a consequence, the ‘can we fuck while we’re asleep?’ question is one I’ve had frequently – occasionally in the form of a challenge to blokes I trust to see how far they can get without waking me up.
Obviously I’d only do this with someone who knew exactly what my ‘stop’ looked like (in the case of sleep sex, it is a mumbled ‘blergh’ and a twitchy flailing of arms, as my semi-conscious self tries to bat away something unwanted. The converse is me going ‘mmmf’ and pulling him closer).
It occurred to me, though, that there’s something deeply and excitingly filthy about the other way around: the fact that sleeping-me was obviously so horny she overrode what my body would usually do (lie there snoring gently and occasionally mumbling until morning) and instead decided to try and persuade someone to wrap his lips round one of my nipples and suck until I felt tingly and good.
Sleep sex is not out of character for me…
It’s not the only time I’ve done stuff in my sleep – I suspect there are things I’ve done that I’ll never even know about. Of those I do know about, they usually begin in dreams: the dream state takes me somewhere I’m lying on a bed, and without realising I’m doing it in real life, I roll over onto my back and run my fingers down the slit of my cunt, feeling the stickiness that’s there from the previous evening’s fuck. On occasion I’ve woken to find my fingers in my mouth, and had to suppress a tired grin of self-satisfied post-fuck horniness. Once or twice, I’ve woken up to find I’m kissing someone – he’s awake and aware and I’m still woozy, unable to tell the difference between the guy who’s next to me and the man who just disappeared from my dream.
And that’s before you even get started on the dreams you have which – achingly, desperately, horribly – get you within one light stroke of orgasm before dumping you, horny and indignant, into the waking world again. I’ve never had one of those dreams where you actually orgasm in your sleep. At least, not to my knowledge – I guess it would be harder to tell than it would for someone who’s actually orgasmic dream is marked by a wet, white patch on the bedsheets.
I don’t know what the point of this blog post is, and to be honest that one night where I was fast asleep throughout is a rare one this month, so my tired brain has no conclusion to draw. I guess if pushed I just want to say: it’s nice, isn’t it? I like the knowledge that when my conscious brain turns off, and I can get rid of the ringing stress that hammers around it during the daytime, my nighttime instincts match so perfectly with my conscious ideal. That I don’t shout or cry or worry or any of the things I hate when I’m up: I just grapple for something warm and sexy and comforting.
I reach out to the guy lying next to me, and beg him to touch my tits.