Chapter 1: Pick Your Target

In the quiet of midnight, the distant call to prayer echoed through the streets of Casablanca, a gentle reminder of the world that lay outside the warm embrace of the household. Inside, the house stood still, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only company to the shadows that danced across the walls. The scent of mint tea lingered in the air, a comforting presence that whispered of earlier conversations and laughter.

Hassan, an 18-year-old Moroccan boy with a burgeoning curiosity, lay in his bed, his thoughts consumed by the allure of the forbidden. His eyes fixated on the ceiling, he felt the weight of his desires grow heavier with each passing moment. His pulse quickened as he recalled how his grandmother Fatima’s vulnerability during her sleepwalks. The idea had been festering in the darkest corner of his mind for months, a taboo fantasy that grew more enticing with each lonely night.

He knew that his grandfather Abdal’s monthly business trips presented the perfect opportunity. The house would be still, the neighbourhood asleep, and Fatima would be lost in the fog of her nocturnal wanderings triggered by his absence. His heart pounded in anticipation as he waited for the familiar shuffle of her slippers against the cold tiles. He had observed her pattern, the way she would rise from her bed and glide through the halls like a ghost, oblivious to the world around her.

As the hallway clock chimed the twelfth hour, the soft pad of Fatima’s footsteps grew closer. He stepped outside his room noticing her silhouette drawn in the moonlight from a nearby window. She was clothed in her lace robe and her hijab, but otherwise she was locked in her highly suggestive sleepwalking state typically as a result unable to remember what she’s done or is done to her afterwards with the peculiar quirk that she wouldn’t wake up or resume her normal sleep until after a long period of time of inactivity has passed from what he’d observed in the past, when she seemed to develop a particular sensitivity to her bodies naturally round and overweight but not unattractive weight, catching her working out in front of the TV streaming either local shows or online content for quick fat burning workouts she could do at home. Her awareness was there, just filtered through a very odd and niche band of focus that hushed all other concerns in her mind no matter how incepted there.

With trembling hands, he reached out to touch her, feeling the soft fabric of her garment under his fingertips. She was warm, almost feverish, as if her body was caught in the throes of a passionate dream. He could see the outline of her generous breasts beneath the robe, and his mouth went dry with desire. This was his chance, the opportunity he had craved for so long. He led her to his bedroom, where he’d prepared fresh towels on his bed, just for this occasion and led her to it as he instructed her.

“Grandmother, when I lay down I want you to straddle my hips and give me the best sexual experience of my life”, he said in a whisper that was barely louder than the rustling of her robe. Fatima’s eyes remained glazed, her body swaying slightly as she followed his instructions, seemingly compelled by an unseen force, the room itself was suffused with a tension so thick it could be sliced with a knife, and the only sound the shallow breaths they both took.

He undressed completely and lay down on the bed despite every screaming instinct telling him that this could not possibly work.

Fatima stumbled slightly as she stepped closer to the bed, her eyes glazed over as she sleepwalked on autopilot. With a gentle push, she laid her plump body over him, straddling his hips just as he had instructed. Her heavy breasts hung low, brushing against his bare chest, and her thighs, thick with cellulite, settled on either side of his waist.

His penis throbbing and huge begged to be led within her as he said “guide me in grandma and begin riding me”, he instructed. He knew he was too big for her, judging by the monstrous size of his cock, knowing it could still get bigger and more aroused, feeling it in his bones as she reached for it tenderly with her hand.

Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she were performing a sacred dance taught to her by the whispers of the night. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, her fingers barely able to meet around his thickness. A soft moan escaped her lips, though it was clear that she was still deeply entrenched in her sleep. She nervously positioned the huge head of his stimulated cock reacting to her touch at the entrance of her sex, her hands shaking as she slowly guided him in, her sleep-dulled mind unable to comprehend the sheer size that was about to invade her.

The first inch slid in with surprising ease, Fatima’s body welcoming the intrusion despite the initial shock of his size. A gasp slipped from her mouth, but her eyes remained closed, lost in the haze of her sleep. He watched in awe as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth, taking him deeper into her with each gentle motion. Her pussy stretched around him, unable to take him fully as she slowly adjusted and slowly, painfully began to accept his massive length.

He couldn’t believe it was happening. The sensation of her warm, wet folds enveloping him was more than he had ever imagined. The tip of his cock brushed against the back of her vaginal walls, sending shivers down his spine. He felt a mix of excitement and fear, knowing that this was wrong but unable to resist the allure of the moment. Slowly, inexorably she would work her way down to the hilt but not yet, as she was still adjusting to his size.

Fatima’s sleep-heavy breaths grew more erratic as she unknowingly took more of him in, her body responding to the foreign object despite her unconscious state. Her pussy was tight; a testament to her lack of sexual activity in recent years, but it was also slick with natural lubrication, making the slow descent easier.

“That’s it grandma, give me more” he instructed her as he parted her robe discarding it beside the bed as her full, naked body stood out to his hungry senses. She obeyed his command, her eyes still closed, and her movements becoming more deliberate as she sank down further onto him. Each inch she took was a victory for him, a testament to the power of his desire. He leaned her down towards him until their bodies were almost flush, taking one of her large breasts in his hand, as his mouth formed a seal over the nipple which he sucked at hungrily, his free hand nestled itself in an overly generous cheek of her large ass, as he kneaded it hungrily.

Her response was instantaneous, a sharp intake of breath that turned into a soft moan. Her hand unconsciously squeezed his shoulder as she rocked her hips, taking more of him in. He could feel her stretching around him, accommodating his size as she began to move in a steady rhythm. Her body seemed to awaken with each thrust, a silent symphony of pleasure playing out on her sleeping features.

With every movement, Fatima’s large breasts bounced gently, her free nipple grazing his chest. He felt the weight of his guilt melt away as the heat of her body enveloped him, her soft curves pressing into his. His hand squeezed her ass, guiding her movements, feeling the warmth of her flesh and the power of his own desire. He wanted more, more speed, more flesh to grab hold of, more of her purity to spoil.

He lowered her head as he kissed her, softly at first on her lips then deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She tasted faintly of mint tea and mint toothpaste, it had a comforting everyday yet eerie aftertaste. Fatima’s sleep-slackened jaw offered no resistance, her mouth moving with his in a silent, rhythmic dance. He felt her body respond, her hips grinding against him with more urgency, taking him deeper with every rock.

He was in paradise and he wanted more.

“Make me cum grandma, make me cum with you!” he cried to her in a repetitive chant as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, her breasts bouncing with each movement. He could feel her pussy tightening around him, the walls of her sex contracting as she approached climax. Her hips bucked wildly, and he knew she was close.

Taking one of her bouncing nipples in his mouth, he sank his face into her large breast, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin around it as he sucked hard, biting down slightly. Her body jolted, but she remained asleep, her hips moving with a newfound vigour. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her cheeks flushed with colour even in the moonlit room. He knew she was damningly close, her body responding to his touch despite her unconsciousness.

Her plump thighs quivered as she approached her peak, her moans growing louder, filling the room with a symphony of sleep-laden pleasure. He matched her pace, his own orgasm building like a crescendo. The sight of her sleeping face, the feel of her soft, heavy body in his hands, the sound of her muffled cries - it was all too much. He could feel the warmth of her pussy tightening around him, the muscles contracting in a delicious grip.

He switched to her mouth, kissing her deeply again, as he felt his orgasm nearing. He didn’t know if she would remember any of this, but he didn’t care. This was his moment, a stolen encounter that he had dreamed of for so long.

Her movements grew more erratic as she climaxed, her body shaking with the force of it, as her pussy clamped down on him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upward to meet hers. The tension in the room was palpable, a cocktail of lust and transgression that fuelled his passion. He came powerfully inside her, filling her with his hot, thick seed, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

For a moment, everything was still. Fatima’s breathing began to even out, her body relaxing on top of his. The room was silent except for the soft creak of the bed and the sound of their mingled breaths. He felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly drowned out by the satisfaction that pulsed through him. He had taken what he wanted, claimed his prize, and she remained blissfully unaware.

“How about we try something abit more casual?” he said with a knowing smile.

They went downstairs to the kitchen, her back to him as she followed his instructions, pretending to complete one of her daily tasks as he came up behind her, softly kissing her over one side of her of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her considerable waist to hug her soft, welcoming middle. She wore her modest robes; he wore his casual street clothes as he ground his already budding erection through the thin layers of her clothing and into the crevice of her ample behind.

He’d always wanted to take her here, like this and make it look almost casual. “How are you doing grandma?”, he said “tell me about your day”, his crooked smile spoke volumes as he lifted the hem of her robes exposing her naked bottom which he split with his hands as he took her from behind, his eager, swelling penis sliding with easy purpose into her pussy, as she flinched as it went in, in full. His hands gently held onto her hips as he began thrusting. Fatima began to retell her day in a zombie-like droll, her voice monotone, her mind in a different place entirely, as she groaned into every thrust, as she tried and failed to speak without being interrupted by her own pleasure taking over “my day was fine ... I went to the ... to the ... ohh ... ohh ... market ... and ... and bought ... some ... some ... fresh vegetables ... ohh ... Hassan...”

“You went to temple today then, like you usually do, what did you pray for?” he asked with a Cheshire grin.

Fatima’s voice was barely a whisper, lost in the haze of sleep and the unyielding pleasure he brought her, “I ... I prayed for ... for ... the wellbeing of the family...”, she replied, her words trailing off as he quickened his pace, the head of his cock rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust.

“Did you find God Ammi? Or did he find you?”, Hassan said, using the term for mother with a twist, making it sound almost like a taunt as he thrust harder, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks. Her eyes remained closed, but a flicker of something akin to panic danced across her features as she tried to process the sensations invading her body. “I ... I don’t know...” she murmured, her body betraying her with every whimper. He shifted his grip to her breasts beneath the material of the robe snaking them under the hemline of her lifted robe, as he squeezed them firmly. “Did he find and cherish you the way I am doing right now? Rewarding you for years of caring nurture with unbridled pleasure of your own?” he said with a sultry voice and an unshakeable grin.

She began to answer him through the heat of her pleasure her answer punctuated once again by her own heady moans that only served to incite him to greater heights of pleasure as she began her earnest attempt to answer him”

“I ... I think so ... but ... oh ... this feels ... so ... so ... different...”, she stuttered, her voice a mix of pleasure and confusion as she tried to reconcile the sensations of his young, strong body claiming her with the spiritual fulfilment she had sought for in her prayers.

“That’s okay grandma”, he said as he relaxed. “Here let’s take a seat, try and relax”, he said with an earnest tone as he slid from her and took a seat by the modest kitchen table a circular wooden affair with four seats without armrests, tucked in under it as he pulled one out, sat on it, still half naked and gently positioned his grandmother to straddle his hips whilst facing her away to rest her weight on the table. “Tell me how you miss your husband Abdal”, he said in a leering tone as he guided her hips firmly down onto his cock which was still hard, still thick and eager to claim her once more.

Fatima, still lost in her sleep walking state, complied with his instructions, her legs spreading wider to accommodate his size as she sunk down onto him, her pussy taking him in fully, her body seemingly adapting to the intrusion. She leaned over the table, her arms resting her weight there, as her breasts swung freely, nipples brushing against the cold wood as she began to move her hips in a gentle rocking motion.

“I miss him every time he leaves,” Fatima murmured, her voice distant and dreamy as she settled onto him, her plump ass cheeks resting on his thighs. Her hips began to sway, her body moving with a sleepwalker’s grace that sent him deeper into her with each rock. The kitchen light cast a soft glow over her bare back, highlighting the beads of sweat that had begun to form. “He was always so gentle with me, so kind...” Her words were punctuated by soft gasps as she took him in deeper, her pussy clenching around him in a silent plea for more.