I’ve never run into someone actually fucking me while I/he was asleep before I met V. I’d read about it, of course, in conjunction with headlines about it being used as a defense for rape, but never knew it was an actual, real, THING. People could initiate sex while sound asleep, unbeknownst to them. Whether or not that can be used as a defense, as an excuse, I don’t know. All of the times it’s happened to me, he’s always woken up somewhere in the middle, and I am always aware, as I come awake, that he is not. He really doesn’t know what he is doing, and occasionally doesn’t remember, if I rebuff him in the beginning. The morning after I will say, “Do you remember sleep fucking me?” And, depending on how deeply asleep he was, he’ll either have no recollection of it or a vague one, dreamlike, in which he comes to consciousness halfway through.
I always know the moment he becomes aware.
I don’t know why, but it is an incredibly erotic thing me; to be woken by his hands on me, his weight, him trying to push himself inside of me.
Being a “sleep sex” person is not a thing he is unaware of. We had basic rules of “safe sex” early on and he said, “I may try to fuck you in my sleep. It’s up to you to make sure we honor the boundaries we’ve set, and wake me up if it happens, so I can stop.” I admit that I was skeptical at first. I grew up in the “Just a little bit, just the tip!” generation, and this sounded an awful lot like wanting to be granted permission “accidentally.” But the first time it happened, I realized that no, he was completely unaware of what he was doing. And that yes, it was up to me to take charge and make him stop.
This was pretty anti-ethical to my whole take on D/s. When I grant you right to my body, when I say it is yours to use as you see fit, I really mean it. Timing – however crabby, not-into-it, tired or sleepy I might feel – is yours to dictate. There are a lot of soft-limits/hard-limits that we can negotiate through, but that, to me, is a bottom-line, non-negotiable part of my submission. If you own me, you own my sex. Waking up in the middle of the night with your hands on me, with your fingers spreading me open, with you fumbling to push your half-erect cock into me? There is not even a thought of resisting. Why would I? You own my body to do with as you please, even if I don’t particularly “feel like it” in the moment.
That is a very hard thing to reconcile with me “making him stop,” when it was necessary.
Also, being wakened that way, being taken that way, is very, very erotic to me.
So. There I was, sound asleep. Warm and snuggly after an intense scene, followed by perfectly-cognitive sex. The room was dark, heavy with the scent of our bodies, our sex, our sleep. And I was pulled from that sleep by the feel of his hands on me.
It’s strange, because even in this half-aware state, even when I didn’t know that he does this in his sleep, I was aware of…I don’t know what. A detachment on his part? That his mind was not there, just his body. His hands pushed mine aside (I react in sleep instinctively, guarding myself), and he rolled onto me. I felt his hand between my thighs, insistent, spreading me open. And then he pushed his cock at me, trying to press it into me.
Later, I came to recognize this as a “sleep sex” sign. I liken it to my own sex dreams, in which I rub and hump and strain to reach an orgasm, but never can. In his sleep, he is dreaming of fucking. In real life, his body is still half-asleep. Not quite with the program.
But he is insistent. Quietly forceful…eerily quiet. It really is as if I am fighting off a body with no mind except that to take, to fuck, to possess. And in that moment, I want that too. God how I want it. I want him to fuck me mindlessly, not because of all the reasons you fuck someone you love, someone you are in relationship with, but simply because you must. Because your body dictates it.
I fight him. I struggle beneath him, I push him away. No condoms, no sex. When he acquiesces, it is like a lightswitch being turned off. He rolls away, sighs, relaxes immediately into sleep. No recollection, no memory, of what just passed. The first time, I lay awake, stunned and disbelieving. But no, he was truly, peacefully, asleep. The next morning, I believed him when he said he didn’t remember a thing.
We’ve moved beyond those early days. Being fluid-bonded has…changed this scenario in significant ways. I can accept him, allow him to take me in the throes of sleep. Really, referring back to my take on being owned, I can’t deny him, even when I know he is asleep.
And that is exactly the way I want it.