Alpha King: Dreamy Nightmare

Chapter One

“Are you serious?!” I am panting like a dog, and covered in sweat for the third time this week. Kicker is, I only just woke up! How is it, that a dream can make me so.. I don’t even know what you call this, worked up?

“Knock knock”

Autumn is pushing my door open. “Are you u…..” she stops mid-sentence and just stares at me before speaking. “Again? What kind of dreams are you having?! And why aren’t I having them?!” She can very clearly see that I’m drenched in sweat. She covers her nose like she is trying to keep herself from smelling something. What she smells is me, and I don’t mean all of the sweat either.

“Very Funny” I mock. That dream has definitely been leaving me with some irritatingly unwanted arousal.

“I’m serious! What is your secret? Do you read a steamy book before bed? Watch porn? You gotta tell me!” She says, acting with anticipation

“Can you stop with your weird ass? Get out so I can take a shower”

“Hey now, is that anyway to talk to you’re favorite auntie Autumn?” She is being very melodramatic with her body movements and batting her eyes at me like she is innocent.

I begin to laugh. “Just get out.” And then I throw a pillow at her hoping she better understands my request.

“Fine, fine but hurry up. We have to open the shop!” And then she leaves, Clicking my original wooden door shut behind her.

We live in a Victorian town home. There is a parlor on the main floor, which is where our shop is. The second floor is where most of the bedrooms are along with the kitchen, but I have the only room on the third floor. There is a master bedroom and a small sitting room with a balcony that looks out over the street just in front of the shop. This is also where I go to hide when all of Autumns kids come home from their travels.

I start to undress to get into the shower when I notice that the red marks on my inner thigh are nice and red again. I don’t know what is going on. I must just scratch myself really hard in my sleep or something. As I run my fingers over it though, just like the other three times, I start to feel…warmth? But at the same time a feeling of loss? I don’t know how to even explain it. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could actually make Sense of it. For example, why I keep dreaming about someone I don’t know, among other things. It always ends the same way, me waking up to full on arousal, a bed and myself drenched with sweat, and red welts on my thigh.

Unfortunately, I know nothing else will make the feelings subside, so I give into it.

I get into the shower and start to lather soap over my body. I can’t help but feel the need that my body is aching for So I slowly run my hand down my body. Starting at the top of my neck, tracing down over my breasts. I grab one breast firmly and begin a massaging motion, making sure to give my n****e some attention as well. I continue one down my torso with my other hand until I find the taut, round nub that sits between my thighs. I begin to massage my c******s slowly and gently Until me knees start to buckle from the unbearably amazing stimulation. Then I dip my fingers further between legs. Still massaging my breasts, going back and fourth between the two, I shove two fingers into my soaking wet core and start ravaging myself with different movements and pressures, in hopes to satiate my hunger.

“Oh f**k!” I moan out as I reach my climax.

I step out of the shower after cleaning myself up and like normal, Everything is clouded with fog from the steam. I wrap myself in a towel and wipe off the mirror to look at myself. I stand at 5’6 so I’m a little taller than average female but not by much. My ears stick out a little from my head and are slightly pointed, but you cannot really tell with the amount of piercings I have. They aren’t pointy like Elvish ears from a Tolkien book, but more subtle.

I run my fingers through my pitch black hair that stops at my shoulders. It is so thick that most days I want to shave my head, But I know that I would regret that soo I always choose against it. I reach for my contact lenses and realize that I only have one pair left. “s**t”.

“Raven Rosewood, hurry the hell up would you!”

Autumn and I are best friends, but she is also my aunt. She is three times my age, but thanks to our wonderful “stop aging” genes, she doesn’t look much older than I. We run a flower shop out of the parlor on the main floor of our house. We don’t have to open for another thirty minutes but she knows I’m always late.

I throw on my favorite white button up blouse, some black skinny jeans, and a pair of ankle high black boots. This is how I like to dress when I’m goin out or to work, but when I’m at home, there is nothing I love more than putting on a pair of sweats that are three sizes too big, and a cut off t-shirt. After I finish with my last second hair check I head down stairs.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” As I am coming down the stairs, I bump into what feels like a squishy wall. “ s**t Sorry Uncle Sterling!” He just laughs and sends me on my way. Sterling is one hefty guy. Average height, muscular, sparkling silver hair that he has had his whole life. He was just born with it. He wonders to the kitchen to get started on our lunch that he makes us everyday, and I continue down to the parlor. I sprint to the door and flip the sign on the door to “Open”.

“ Let’s get this s**t show on the road shall we?” Autumn and I both start laughing and two minutes later our first client comes strolling in.