31. Dream or Reality

We thanked Ray before leaving, his polite smile following us all the way to the door. My wife slipped her arm under mine, steadying me, her movements cautious as though I were made of glass. Every step I took back toward our home felt heavy, my mind still circling around the strange echo of Ray’s words. Pay more attention... Why did it sound so much more than an health advice?

I stole a glance at her as we walked, and she caught my eyes with a gentle smile, warm and reassuring. Something inside my chest tightened, a dull pang I couldn’t explain. Why was I feeling this way? She was out here supporting me, holding me and yet unease coiled quietly inside me.

We stopped by the pharmacy on our way back, my steps unsteady but her hand never leaving my arm. She took the prescription Ray had written and spoke quietly to the pharmacist while I sat on a bench nearby, rubbing the side of my head. She returned with a small paper bag rustled in her hands and concern in her eyes.

We reached home, it felt nice breathing familiar air. I told her I’d take the day off from work, and she nodded without protest, fussing around me, making sure I sat carefully on the sofa. Her attentiveness soothed me.

She returned from the kitchen with a small glass of water and two tablets resting on her palm. “Here,” she said softly, crouching beside me, “Ray said that these will help with the pain in your head. But… they might make you a little drowsy, so just rest afterward.”

I took them, watching her delicate fingers as they brushed against mine. Her eyes lingered on me, still damp with worry, as if she was afraid I might collapse all over again. Guilt stirred in my chest for putting her through so much.

I swallowed the pills, the bitter taste churning my tongue and leaned back. She set the glass aside and smoothed the blanket over me like I was a patient in her care.

“Just close your eyes,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of everything else.”

Her warmth made my chest ache with love. My head grew heavy almost at once, the medicine already started working its charm, pushing me to sleep.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Slap…

At first, it was nothing. A faint sound, somewhere far away, wrapped inside the heaviness pressing down on my skull. I shifted under the blanket, trying to ignore it.

Slap… slap…

The rhythm grew clearer. My brow furrowed. My ear twitched. What… what was that?

Slap...

I groaned, pushing my palms against the cushion, forcing my head up a little. The world tilted. My stomach pressed into the sofa, my chest heavy, but I could see straight ahead, down the hallway.

And there it was.

A figure, back turned to me. Skirt... lifted, pale thighs exposed, ass jiggling with every smack.

And... hands—striking hard, then grabbing, kneading, squeezing.

Slap.

He was swinging both his hands together at her exposed ass. She staggered on her feet, legs bent, heels digging into the floor as though the smack had stolen her balance. Her hands were looped around the man’s neck, clutching tight, clinging for support.

I blinked, trying to clear the fog. Who… who is that?

I squinted my eyes hard, focusing, they kinda felt... familiar.

The man’s hands were roughly grabbing her ass, squeezing, smacking. He spread her cheeks, held them wide, then clapped them back together with a wet sting. My stomach twisted. He was groping, sliding fingers between her crack, digging in, kneading the meat of her flesh while his other hand kept slapping loud, sharp.

Slap. Slap.

Her legs buckled under it. Every time he hit her, her thighs shook, knees knocking.

I blinked, my vision wavered, doubled. The man’s face came into view, lines deep, eyes narrow. His face… it felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on who he was. He was staring right at me. And... Smiling.

My chest thudded. Was the medicine playing tricks on me?

He didn’t look away, not once. He just grinned at me as his hand grabbed two greedy handfuls of that woman's ass, squeezing until his knuckles whitened. Then he let go just to smack again, hard enough that her body lurched forward against him. Her ass was completely red and swollen.

I tried to say something. My lips opened, but no sound came out. My body refused to move. Only my head lifted, heavy, trembling, just enough to catch those blurred shapes.

She tightened her hands on his neck. Her back arched, her chest pressed against him, and he tilted his head closer, still looking at me.

Then, slowly, he fisted her hair. Pulled her head back. Her body jolted, throat stretched, lips openef in a faint gasp. Her face turned just enough, the faint edge of her face coming into view. A sliver of cheek, the curve of her open mouth, the shadow of her lashes. Familiar. Too familiar. My chest twisted hard.

That… face. Where had I seen it before? My chest stung with something I couldn’t name, a knot pulling tighter the more I stared. I knew her. I was sure of it. It was all so damn familiar… but why couldn’t I place it? Why was my head refusing to give me the answer, as if it was locked behind that blank haze?

He leaned in. His mouth clamped down on her neck. Loud, wet, sucking, lips dragging, teeth scraping. Her knees trembled harder, thighs rubbing, a faint moan slipping from her mouth that sent a cold chill racing through me.

All while his eyes stayed on mine. That grin widened around her skin as he sucked harder, like he wanted me to hear it.

My heart hammered.

What the hell is this…?

He smacked her ass again, harder. The sound cracked through the hallway, echoing. My pulse skipped. My body felt heavier, weaker, but my eyes wouldn’t leave the sight.

Her hips shifted against him as his hands kept working her ass, groping, spreading, pressing her into his crotch like he wanted to mold her against him. She clung to his neck tighter, her body trembling with every pull of his mouth, every sting of his hand.

He broke the kiss just to lick the side of her throat, slow and wet, his stare never once letting go of mine.

My vision swayed. My stomach clenched.

Familiar. Too familiar. That face. That body.

But no… this has... to be a dream.

It felt too real, though. Each sting of the slap rang in my ears, sharp and wet, followed by her muffled gasp. His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking, loud, obscene, and that smile—God—that smile. It was aimed right at me, like he knew I was awake, like he wanted me to see every second of it.

No. This is just a dream. It has to be. Ray… Ray said something earlier about getting weird dreams… yeah, that’s what this is. Just some twisted dream messing with my head.

I **** my eyes down, squeezing them shut, but the noises didn’t stop. The steady smacks. The wet sucking. Her soft gasps, almost whimpers. They burrowed into my skull, as my eyelids grew heavier, pulling me back to sleep.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

My head was heavy, my breathing slow, but something dragged me out of that drowsy pit again.

Smack… Smack… Smack…

Mixed this time with a different sound. Wet. Dirty. And a low moan threading through it.

“Ugh… again?” I muttered, rubbing my face against the sofa cushion. My head pounded. The medicine was really messing me up. My ears twitched. Smack… Smack… Louder now, followed by a sharp gasp that sent a shiver crawling down my spine.

I pushed against the cushion, forcing myself up just enough to lift my head. My eyes blinked, blurred images swimming together before slowly pulling apart.

The first thing I saw… a piece of cloth on the floor, just little ahead of where I was sleeping. My brows furrowed. A cloth? Why was it just lying there? She would never throw something like that here and there. She always picked up everything right away.

My vision drifted past it, forward. The blur began to sharpen. My stomach tightened.

There was a body. On the floor. Moving forward violently.

Arms stretched out, palms flat against the floor, as if holding on for dear life. Hair covering the face, messy, wild. I couldn’t see who it was. Couldn’t even tell if they were crying or just moaning.

But the way the body jerked forward, arching, trembling—there was no mistaking it. My mouth went dry. She was getting fucked.

The strands covered her face completely. I couldn’t see the face or her expression, but the sounds pouring out—those ragged, broken moans made it all very clear.

Smack… smack… smack…

The wet sound joined it, lewd and filthy, echoing in my skull.

The upper half of her body lay in plain view, but the lower half was hidden by the hallway wall. Every time her body moved forward, her arms stretched further, her fingers clawed at the floor.

“Who… the hell is that?” My voice cracked out low, unsure if I even spoke out loud or just thought it.

Her back arched with each thrust, her chest pressed to the floor one moment and lifted the next, shaking as if her lungs couldn’t hold the sound in.

I blinked again, hard, but the sight didn’t clear, only swam deeper into my skull. A body, jerking, bouncing, moaning like crazy. The medicine blurred my head, heavy, dizzy.

This… this is another weird dream. A trick of my brain.

And yet the sounds… those damn sounds wouldn’t stop.

Smack… smack… smack…

Her cry followed each one, muffled and filthy, shaking the walls of the hallway.

Moans. Deep and raw.

Smack… smack… smack…

Each thrust landed with a wet slap that echoed into me, rattling my bones.

My chest hurt. A sharp pang shot through me, spreading out, squeezing my ribs. I clutched at my shirt, trying to breathe.

Her cries only grew louder, breaking between each slap. It sounded… it sounded too close. Too real.

“Wh… who… who are they?” My voice trembled. My eyes blinked, trying to clear the blur. “Why are they… doing this in my house?”

I bit down, teeth grinding as I stared. My vision swam, my head pounding, but I couldn’t look away.

Her body rocked violently, every thrust shoving her forward, making her arms bend, elbows giving out as if she couldn’t hold herself up. She cried out, hair whipping with each motion, chest dragging against the floor.

Smack… smack… smack…

The sound burned in my ears, filthy and raw.

It was too clear, too sharp, echoing through the walls until my chest tightened painfully.

But I shook my head, or tried to. My whole body felt heavy. My eyelids were barely staying open. The medicine… it’s the medicine again. Nothing else. Just a dream, a trick. That’s all.

I kept telling myself that, over and over, until suddenly—

A hand.

Out of the blur, a rough hand shot forward, grabbing a fistful of her messy hair covering her face. My breath caught in my throat as he pulled her head back hard, revealing her face, her back arching beautifully, her arms trembling under the ****.

“No…” My voice cracked. Slowly, painfully.

It was her.

My stomach sank.

Her lips opened, her cheeks flushed, eyes glazed with lust and tears. My wife. My wife, pinned and used, her moans spilling out louder now, sharper, cutting straight into me like a knife.

Then—his face.

The man leaned in, the old... man, dragging her hair back, tilting her head until their mouths crushed together. His kiss was filthy, hungry, his tongue all over her face, shoving into her mouth while her muffled cry melted into it.

I couldn’t breathe.

W–what… no… no way…

My chest seized, my throat closed. My heart hammered, too fast, too loud. “No… it’s not… it can’t be—”

But her moans answered me, clear and sharp, vibrating through the air until my body shook. She wasn’t resisting. She was crying out in pleasure, shameless and broken, her voice echoing like she was begging for more.

I felt suffocated.

Even if it was a dream, even if it was the medicine twisting everything—seeing her like this, moaning like that, while his hand gripped her hair, his mouth devouring hers, it shattered me.

“This is… a dream… nothing more,” I whispered desperately, my chest heaving. Sweat dripped down my temple. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I couldn’t look anymore. I pressed my face deep into the sofa cushion, squeezing my eyes shut, praying for the sounds to stop.

But they didn’t.

The moans grew sharper. The smacks louder. Wet, filthy slaps echoing against the walls, every thrust making her cry out like she was being ruined.

My whole body trembled. My shirt clung to me, damp with sweat. My chest felt like it was splitting open.

I shut my eyes tighter, clinging to the only lifeline I had left.

It’s a dream. It’s a dream. It has to be a dream.

The noise carried on, pounding into my skull until the medicine finally dragged me under again. My body gave out, heart still hammering, ears still burning with the sound of my wife moaning for another man.

And I drifted away into a dark, suffocating sleep.

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