Erotic Couplings
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Erotic stories involving consensual sex between men and women.
1943
By olycouple, in Erotic Couplings,
He could smell the lavender and mandarin wafting on wings of steam from under the door and hear the tinny sound, echoing and muffled by the closed door, of the water hitting the porcelain. A book of human anatomy was splayed across his lap, a glass of cheap whisky in his hand. His mind clouded, his vision hazed, and his breath became shallow as a tingle sprang forth, with rising insistence, like the tickle of an insect, down his neck, through the hairs on his chest, and finally landed with softness and urgency at the seat of his sex. Instantly, he felt guilt.
This was not a woman he loved. They’d never even touched, except casually, in the process of handing off a drink, giving and accepting rent money in the hallway. But the aroma she left behind, even during inconsequential actions such as these, undid him. It wasn’t the lavender, but something deeper, closer to her skin; something emitted from within. She was sex, and she seemed to know it. No modesty, no decency, no seeming understanding of her effect. Or maybe she did. Maybe she figured any power a woman could have should be used for gain, for a place at the table, for a seat on the bus. Maybe that’s all she was. And maybe that’s why he couldn’t help himself, wouldn’t stop his thoughts, pressed her image onto himself in his mind, guilt growing more transparent with each inhalation of the thickening smell in the room. He wondered which see-through nightgown she would traipse around the house in tonight. He imagined her in burgundy, his Helen of Troy, knowingly smiling, feigning desire she could not, would not, feel anymore.
Her faults: those were the things one remembered about her—the things that made one crazy with need for her…the need to touch with one fingertip the tear in her stockings, to graze with one’s lips the fraying hem of her black sequined dress, to kiss with one’s tongue the chipped red polish on her nails. From a distance: just enough shadow to highlight the crevices and curves; just enough space to hide the scars, loose threads, and lipstick two shades too dark for her pale face. It wasn’t even painted on straight—a slightly crooked line on the right side of her upper lip made her look reminiscent of a child playing dress up with her mother’s things.
She’d been in need of a boarder. Money was tight. More than that. There was danger of going without. It was an advertisement that had drawn him in. But the crimson slickness of her smile sealed the deal. He’d met her over lunch to quibble logistics…but there was nothing to argue. It was a simple handshake kind of agreement. She needed the place in the daytime. He needed a place to study at night, a place to set his hat, lay out his clothes, prepare a meal, take a drink…sweat in peace and masturbate to a dirty magazine once in a while to ease the stress of exams. He wasn’t to be there from 8:00 until 4:00. They could share a few minutes in passing; but she made it clear she needed quiet time alone, while the sun was up. She worked at night. He wasn’t to ask. But he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t tell that to his naïve Midwestern parents. He couldn’t explain that. So, she became Matt, a young medical intern at the hospital where he was observing twice a week. She became 19, studious…there could be no calls to the house; he’d have to make the calls home. And they didn’t ask either. And he thought to himself that it was amazing how little asking happens when we think we know the answer already. It’s always when one question, the right one, the only one, the obvious one, is the one that would shock us into reality…someone else’s…and show us how wrong, really, most of our suppositions are. And yet, realities, whole lives, are based on those assumptions. Without them, we forget how to breathe.
He’d signed on only for the summer months, hoping to find a better, less finicky situation, a more appropriate roommate. She hoped by that time, she’d have enough money to leave town for good, head to New York where she’d find work writing for a magazine. She was a writer; which came out sounding false, almost laughable, through her wine-stained lips as she brushed a strand of dark blond hair out of her eyes. Everyone knew brunettes were the writers. Blondes were good for the cover. They were good between the sheets. They were meant to be heard screaming your name, seen licking their lips, not asking the difficult questions or wrinkling their pretty white foreheads in consternation, sweating over a typewriter.
But these thoughts had not melded until now. The picture was beginning to matter to him…as he inhaled the scent of her bath water. Why did he remember her eyes across the table during their first meeting? Why did it matter that they were blue with her first sip of cheap Chianti? Green when he handed her his deposit…his last ten dollars? Grey when she came home that first morning as he passed her without comment, hardly a nod of acknowledgment, that first morning in the hall? More importantly, why did this remembrance bring to his chest a tightness? And why was he walking toward the bathroom door?
It was an odd night. Classes were cancelled, something the university called “dead week”, the week before final exams when there were no classes so students could study. He had nowhere to go really and no money to even buy a coffee to keep himself occupied and out of her way. So they’d been stumbling around each other for a few days.
The sensual overload was almost too much for him. The scent from under the door was suddenly overpowered, momentarily, by that coming from her bedroom as he passed it. He couldn’t help but stop for a moment and take it all in. And he couldn’t quite help pushing his hand against her slightly open door, exposing the shadows of its interior. Glancing briefly, somewhat guiltily, down the hallway to make sure he was safely viewing in solitude this place which had always been closed to him—forbidden, therefore all the more desired, he stepped into the room. With only the light from the hallway and a small lamp on her nightstand, it was difficult to be precise in his collection of information.
A simple wood-framed mirror harboring several cracks trailing from a wound in the near center (an object thrown in anger? by her? by a former tenant?) on the wall above the dresser--almost identical to the one in his own room and most likely furniture that came with the apartment—sturdy and without embellishment, in need of refinishing. Next to the mirror, on stuccoed wall: a browned photo of an older woman with the same languidly empty eyes, a similar sultry pout, looking odd and in contrast to the high lace collar and cameo brooch of a more restricted age. Running his eyes across the dresser, he uncovered from the grey a hairbrush, thick-bristled, almost black with tarnish, a small make-up bag with expected items peeking from within: a lipstick case, a compact, a handkerchief. His fingers itched to open the drawers; they trembled as they pulled the drawers, which stuck and squeaked slightly, making him nervous, and yet, that much more excited.
The top drawer was filled with her under things, mostly beige, mostly worn, with fraying lace and dulled satin. He ran his fingertips across them, suddenly feeling the urge to grab a handful of them, bring them to his nose to smell, to suck in her scent. He felt himself harden as he inhaled; but to his disappointment, every trace of her had been stolen by detergent. Disappointed, and more stimulated, he moved on. The next drawer held a few sweaters, some folded shirts, a brown belt and a box of dull silver- and gold-coated jewelry, several pieces encasing fake gemstones. However, it was the bottom drawer that held what he was looking for.
A black nightgown, still fresh with her scent. Two pairs of stockings, pairs she was unwilling to discard, but which had too many holes to wear any longer. Garters. He closed his eyes and imagined her wearing these things…all of them. He could see her standing before the bed, placing her foot on the edge so she could reach underneath her thigh to attach the garter. He could see her hair falling into her face, the cleavage of her breasts as she leaned. He imagined her straightening up, both feet, in black heels, on the floor, arms reaching up to pull the hair out of her face and up off of her back, letting it go to fall, to shake it straight, smoothing it once more before walking toward him, splayed naked and waiting for her on the bed. It was almost too much.
And then he heard the water splash in the bathroom and was shocked grudgingly awake from his mental meandering, pushed the drawer closed too quickly, making a noise he hadn’t wanted to make. He stood up from the bed, mussing the covers where he had left a slight imprint, and his heat. His last glance of the room, as he quickly exited, was of her pillow, the curve made by her head still in the center.
He didn’t knock. He simply placed hand to doorknob and twisted his wrist. It didn’t surprise him to find it unlocked. She wasn’t trying to draw him; he knew that. It was only the way she was. Immodest. Dangerous in her inattentiveness. Unguarded. She never tried to draw men’s attention; but maybe that’s exactly why they were always looking and always following her home. It made the young man nervous. He feared her, but the fact that he feared her made her seem strong enough, in his perception, to take care of herself.
She looked up at him from the claw foot tub. A lady would have tried to cover herself, would have at least feigned surprise, mock humiliation. A woman pretending modesty would have at least widened her eyes, opened her mouth to protest. But she simply looked at him as if she were fully clothed, comfortable to meet with a stranger in this way.
“I just want to look at you.” He spoke without fear of rejection. Because he knew she’d let him sit next to her, touch the water, in silence.
She said nothing, just continued with the business of grooming, sliding the razor down her cream-lathered leg, extended over the edge of the tub. Moving slowly, methodically, as if creating a work of art, sculpting her own smoothness. For the first time in his life he wasn’t worried about what to do next. He didn’t even care if this was it: the last time he’d ever see a naked woman. Somehow she had that power. It was her seeming confidence. Her carelessness with him. She wasn’t asking for anything, wanted nothing from him. Lying there in the water – engulfed in steam – she seemed cruel and enticingly exotic with mascara melted in half-moons beneath each eye, her cheeks rouged heavily with heat. She seemed ripe for the touching, soft and slightly swollen from the steam.
“Do you want to touch me?” She didn’t look at him as she asked the question; but she sounded sad somehow, and he thought to himself, that in other circumstances, he would be trembling. He knew he could have her here and now on the bathroom tile. He knew she wouldn’t resist. And maybe that’s why he walked away.
Half an hour later she emerged from the bathroom in a faded peach silk kimono – her hair piled on top of her head, wet only at the tips, creating a frame for her glowing face. Her bare feet, toenails painted red and chipped, made a little puckering noise on the wood floor in the hallway, then turned to a padded whisper once she reached the ancient Persian floor rug (too old for the colors to be deciphered) covering the most worn, and possibly water-stained, section of the living room floor. She poured herself gin, straight, in a chipped glass. On the front of it was etched the emblem of some hotel on 5th Street that had closed down years before during the Depression. She’d probably picked up a whole set for free when the business (and the owner) collapsed. He watched her from behind his evening paper. Floating to the record player, she put on some obscure Italian opera and slouched into the graying ivory armchair opposite him, swung her head back, letting the last sip of her drink trickle down her throat, and let her left leg hang over the threadbare arm of the chair. The pose forced her kimono to slip open across her upper thigh; and with each metered swing of her leg, it opened a little bit more. But her head was still laid back. Her eyes were closed and her lips silently mouthed the sad story coming from the speaker. He put down his paper, set it on the table beside him, stood, and walked toward her.
He took the glass from her and turned to refill her drink, when she grabbed his hand. His back was to her, and he stopped his next step. She caressed his fingers, leaned forward and took his index finger in her mouth, letting her tongue mingle with the salt of his skin. He remained a statue, unsure in his immobility. She sucked the finger to the tip, her lips releasing him before her tongue, and then fell into her previous pose, yet this time – due to her sudden movement – her kimono lay completely open from the waist, exposing the soft down that hid her innermost workings. This he didn’t see as he continued his route to the bar, struggling to control his composure, his desire to turn to her and take her into his arms. He would not let her unnerve him, use him like another of her witless toys. She would be the death of him. Her indifference would kill him, if he let himself feel anything for her. And he knew he could never really have her…really – like a lover. He could only have her like a whore, empty inside. Too many others. And now she was mad, and there was a certain power in her coldness and distance. Once, she must have been amazing, vivacious, the kind of woman men clamor around, like moths to a burning flame, knowing but not caring that she would ruin them. As far as he could tell, she was just a beautiful shell now. Something someone puts on a shelf to admire and takes down once in a while to hear the ocean again, remembering more pleasing times.
She closed her eyes again as he handed her another drink. He didn’t stare at her from his chair like an animal. That’s what she loved about him. He tried so hard to avoid being like the others. She found it charming, and it made her feel less mean…somehow less numb. But with this, came the fear. The smile left her lips. She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, hiding from her, even out in the open as he was. He was looking out the window, his back to her. She’d seen him do this a dozen times before; he was trying to gain control the only way he knew how: to avoid her eyes, as if she were Medusa and might turn him to stone if he looked into them…as if to look at her were to communicate something deeper than either of them were ready for. But her gaze bore in between his shoulder blades. She traced the suspenders down his back and took inventory of his countenance – as if to memorize: white dress shirt, cuffs rolled to the elbows, thick, strong neck jutting from an unbuttoned collar, brown curls, soft cherubic lips – almost feminine in their curve. His grey wool pants hung from his hips as if tailored. Bare feet made him look like a child. She brought a finger to her lips as she noticed the light brown hair on his right foot. He curled his toes under, an absent-minded movement someone does without thinking. But he was feeling the heat of her observation, knew he was being watched, and the movement was one of discomfort and anxiety. He felt cemented to the floor, wanting so badly to move anywhere – to just walk around the room. But he couldn’t will his feet to do anything more than curl his toes back and forth.
Her audible sigh breathed air into his lungs, and he turned toward her boldly.
“What do you dream about?”
She looked at him, a reluctant smile playing at the corners of her overplayed pout. Pupils widening, eyebrows lifting slightly, her reserve seemed almost imperceptibly more shallow, penetrable even, for a moment.
“Why?”
He took a few steps toward her as he spoke.
“Because a person’s dreams tell much more about them than the life they actually lead.”
“And why should I tell you, then? Why should you know more than what you see everyday? More than anyone else?”
“I suppose I can’t answer that. I simply wonder. It’s like you’re oblivious to how you must appear to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t tell if she meant it, was being evasive, or had become suddenly irritated. He didn’t want her apology either way. He walked over to a stack of records, next to the player, rifled through them, turned a few over in his hands to examine the lists of songs on the backs. He chose one, and replacing the opera with Beethoven, turned up the volume and turned again to face her.
“Will you dance?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too intimate.”
He snorted under his breath in sarcastic disbelief.
“Closeness scares you? You walk around here with the confidence of a damn courtesan.”
She scowled at him and looked down at her hands.
“I’m not a whore. I know you think I am.”
“I don’t. I don’t know what you do with your time, and I don’t question it. But you damn near bleed sexuality everywhere you step.”
He paused and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.
“I don’t believe you’re a stranger to desire, at least.”
“Desire is entirely different from intimacy.”
She stopped, forehead wrinkled in consternation, trying to figure out the right words to explain what made so much sense in her mind but so little now that her mouth must be the vehicle for its arrival.
“Desire is what comes before obtaining the object of that desire. It’s still innocent – maybe not in thought, but in its inaction; it is not the sin itself. Desire is clean. And no, I am no stranger to it.”
She was gaining momentum as her thoughts were finding new life through her words; it encouraged her confidence to blossom in to a rising wave of indignation.
“Neither, sir, do I fear intimacy, as you have so boldly assumed. However, just because I allow you look at my naked body, and just because I walk around this house with nothing under my robe does not mean that I am necessarily seeking your attention.”
“But how can I ignore it? And why should I?”
“I don’t want to dance.” She closed her eyes again, looking exhausted and beaten.
“Alright.” He felt as if he’d overstepped some boundary.
She’d never spoken so many words to him in all the time he’d know her. And in her words he saw something he hadn’t expected: vulnerability. She had become defensive. She wanted to think herself clean. And he knew she was now. Somehow, knowing this gave him courage. He felt like he’d won some little battle with her and with himself. He’d been afraid of what he thought she was: impure, imperfect. She was creeping into his veins, slowly, warmly, and he sighed with the release of his own silent admission of her.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll turn in.” She took her glass with her as she glided into the darkness of the hallway and into her bedroom. He heard the click of the latch on her door. She’d never locked it before, and he was struck by the sound. Was she afraid of him? Or was she making a point?
Suddenly he felt angry. How could she assume that he would do anything warranting a locked door? He was a good man. He’d never hurt anyone in his life. Had he? He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Was it something he had said?
“Stupid!” He said under his breath. He pounded his knee with his fist in scolding. He’d compared her to a whore. Somehow, in his observation of her, he’d stripped the humanity from her and plastered her with a hideous label to explain his own fear of her. He’d found it so natural a comparison that he assumed her to be like his impression of her: heartless. And now he realized his error. He also realized the problem – her problem. If he – this nice, kind, unassuming fellow – could think this of her, then imagine the creeps who followed her home every night. Lecherous men with wives and old enough to be her father.
It was her burden. Men looked at her and didn’t see pure, natural, innocent beauty; they saw sex – a whore to be bought and fondled and left. He began to feel the irony of it all as the light from under her door disappeared and he heard the springs bound in her bed as she sat down. She was as pure as they came. Maybe, somehow, purer. She was like faith, which cannot exist unless it is tested.
He lay down on his bed, fully clothed – his mind unsettled and restless. He couldn’t put his finger on it, couldn’t make sense of his sudden need for her. It was like she’d just come to life for him, just become human, and she was expansive – taking up his every breath and each incandescent thought. She was seeping through his pores. She was on his breath. Her essence was in his blood, and he was hot with her presence; it was practically burning his skin, making his thighs itch and his chest sweat. His temples pulsed. He made fists of his hands as he remembered the feel of her lips around his finger—her tongue sliding along the underside from the base to the tip; not difficult to transfer the sensation to another more expectant part of his body. Raising his hands to cover the throbbing movements, make them cease, he groaned deep in his throat. It felt like she was on top of him, straddling, riding him. He could almost hear her soft moans, the little cries, the soft quick breaths that mimicked her touch. Her fingertips…he felt them tracing lightly the soft brown hairs that began at the V of his collar bone and led to his sex. Her lips…he saw them wet and glistening as she arched her head back, moving rhythmically over him.
She wasn’t really there. But it didn’t matter: he felt her. This was desire. And he was content to drown in its complexity. This…this feeling was what he saw in her eyes. He’d seen it the first time he met her at the pub. In the darkness of the bar: desire – not for him – maybe for life…the sky…the bombs going off overhead in the distance. It filled her to the brim and overflowed, spilling onto the floor. That’s what all those men followed. And he’d just slipped and fallen face first into its sweet density.
Whenever had he wanted a woman this badly? Not her succulent thighs or thick, dirty blond hair – but the hidden depths? He thirsted to be let into the shadows inside her. He wanted into those eyes so badly his chest ached. He made fists of his hands and pounded the mattress on either side of his reclined body. He felt he could actually die of this feeling. He pressed his open palm down on his erection, willing it to subside, forcing it, as much as he could without truly paining himself.
And then there was a “click” from the hallway. Her door. Was she coming out? Another drink? A cigarette? He couldn’t hear her in the hall. He moved slowly to his own door and peered out toward her room. The door was still closed. He furrowed his brow as if to question her gesture. Had she unlocked her door to emerge and then changed her mind, forgetting to relock? He stood in front of her door and looked down. No light emerged from beneath. He put his hand around the door knob; it felt hot. He pulled away quickly as if he’d been burned. He looked at his palm in the darkness, opening his mouth to let escape a silent breath of painful yearning. Confused, he tried again. Turning the knob, slowly, as to not alarm her, he felt an icy chill up his forearm; it continued in a lightning jet of pain to his shoulder. Once again, he let go of the knob. But having turned it somewhat already, the door creaked open an inch.
He peered through the crack, a stab of guilt slicing through his thoughts, like a child seeing something beyond his years, something he should not see but cannot look away from. Wanting the view all the more because it seemed wrong, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness within. Searching the bed for the curve of her form, he could not see well enough. He glanced away, back into the hall. He hadn’t seen anything, but the desire to had set the vision hard in his mind, as if the lights were bright on her body, highlighting its contours, its shadows. The imagining gave rise to his manhood. The cotton and wool could not hold him in. Quickly, he shuffled back to his room, bare feet sliding almost silently on the wood floor, angry with his own anatomy. He simply couldn’t go to her like this, like some inexperienced school boy looking up to woman of knowing. He had to offer her more. She’d been propositioned too many times to be impressed by this. He could see her reaction—rolled eyes, a sigh, a demeanor of pity. She would be disappointed because that’s what she’d expect: his erection, his pleading eyes. It’s what he felt but could not show. She wouldn’t be able to see what was silently waiting behind the veil of the biological reactions of his body…that this was not about that. He didn’t have to fuck her. Indeed, his body craved her in the most primal sense, but his mind railed against it; intellectually, he could rise above simply wanting her, but his animal instinct was strong. She’d hear it as a lie if he tried to explain. Others had probably tried it as a method for sounding trustworthy or sensitive. He didn’t have any reason to be either. She wouldn’t respect those qualities anyway. But she wouldn’t respect an erection staring her in the face on its knees pleading for her touch, either.
He sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for it to subside. He drained the last few drops of whiskey and returned to her door. It was open wide. He looked behind him, back down the hall toward the living room, then stared again into the darkness of her room. He reached back down and briefly attempted to tame himself, pressing the base of the shaft toward his left thigh.
“What do you want?”
Her words made him jerk and take in a startled, sharp gasp of breath. A drop of sweat floated down his left cheek. He said nothing. What could he have said? How could he tell her? He had to touch her skin and smell her. Walking to the foot of her bed, his silhouette was framed by the glow of the drapes. He couldn’t hear her move. She remained still and silent. Placing his right knee on the bed, he let his weight fall forward on to his hands. Knee over knee…hand over hand, he crawled to her side, spun sideways, and lay next to her. He inhaled slowly and deliberately, taking in her musky aroma. It burned his nose and made his throat constrict. He closed his eyes tightly and fumbled for her hand. She made no effort to close her fingers around his. Like a dead body, she let him take her hand, but didn’t respond to him. Her warmth, though, radiated into his palm. She was so hot. But she was dry. How could her palm be so dry---not perspiring in such heat? He held her fingers in his hand tightly, willing his words into her skin without speaking.
“It’s alright,” she whispered.
He could feel her looking at him, the heat of her eyes on his cheek…could almost hear the single tear sliding down her own.
Her body turned toward his. His breath stopped, his heartbeat quickening. Fear. She placed her hand on his chest, traced her fingernail to his shoulder and down his arm to the hand that was still holding hers. She picked up his arm, stretched it straight across her pillow and lay her head on his shoulder.
He lay awake for several hours in that position, not knowing if she slept. It didn’t matter. He was holding her, holding the essence of desire in his arms. He let it wash over him like the sweetest shower, saturating his skin. He was cool now. She wasn’t burning him anymore. He’d survived somehow, and now here he was, relaxing in its wake, the softness of its contentment. He’d never again know desire like this, like an electrical storm, all-consuming. And all at once he understood that to bully the current or force it into submission would be futile. Men had been trying for thousands of years to bridle the power of these waves. But it was not until this moment that he realized simply giving in was far more satisfying. He knew there was no battle to win but within himself. She was not an enemy to be conquered, a book to be read, a project to study. She was not to be simply enjoyed or entertained. Or feared. She needed to connect: only connect…the most basic of human requirements. And this moment, a moment that could not be recaptured, was the only thing he wanted of her. A kiss, or more, would be a knife in the back of this feeling.
In the morning, he would pack his things and go.
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We look into each other’s eyes and kiss, at first softly and gentle, the kiss ignites that inner fire for each other and our kisses become more insistent and passionate. I feel my body responding to the unspoken heat of desire within me and within you. My hands tangle in your hair and you press me closer to you, crushing my breasts against your chest.Your hands drift lower, caressing my sides before dipping to settle upon my buttocks. You knead and massage them, cupping them and pulling my hips against you. A moment later I feel the tops of my thighs touch the edge of the table, your hand comes around the front and caresses my breast, your lips find my ear and my breath leaves me for a moment as my body begins to surge with pleasure and my eyelashes veil eyes shining with desire.
Again your lips find mine while you run your hands down my arms and place them behind me so that they rest on the table top, urging me to arch back thrusting my breasts forward. You raise my shirt and kiss my chest while your hands rest on the bare skin of my back. My head goes back as your mouth encloses on a hard nipple, electricity shooting downwards to my loins accompanied by a surge of wetness. You take the other nipple and suckle on it, forcing my thighs apart so that the junction of my thighs is pressed hard against you. You rub unconsciously on me, while your hands knead my back and your mouth does wonders to my breasts.After a few minutes like this you kiss my lips again and then pull back from me. The look that I see in your face is one that I have not seen in quite awhile and it fills me with excitement and desire as well as a touch of trepidation. Your eyes are hungry and predatory. It shows throughout your face as you turn me slowly so that my back is pressed against your chest. You pull my hair away from my neck and ears; the heat from your breath sends shivers through me. You lean close to my ear and I hear you inhale the scent of my skin before tasting my earlobe with your lips, nibbling and suckling on the sensitive place.
My lips part and I wet them with the tip of my tongue as I hear you whisper in my ear, “You smell good.” Your words and your breath cause my breath to catch as it tingles over my skin. Your hands come around the front and push the blouse’s front up high again while your hands tease and caress my breasts, your lips and nose nuzzling in my hair and on the exposed sections of my throat.
In a moment I feel your hands urging me to lean forward so that my bare breasts are resting against the table, the cool surface in direct contrast with the heat of my skin, the nipples grazing it and exciting me. I close my eyes as I feel your hands under the side slits of the skirt, touching my thighs. Your fingers come close to that place that I want you to touch, even graze it but you do not touch me there yet. I feel you raise the skirt higher and higher until it is bunched up around my hips.I can only imagine the “view”. Can only speculate what your sharply taken breath means. A mental image flashes before my eyes of me bent over the tabletop, my thighs parted slightly, the garter clearly visible around my waist, and its straps going down my thighs to hold up my stockings, the dark cloth of my thong between the twin globes of my backside, covering the triangle of my femininity before disappearing down the front. I can almost visualize how the roundness of my rear is showing up at you.I hear you rustle around behind me, an instant later feel your lips on the exposed part of my thigh, your hands on my behind. Your tongue makes little circles around and around, coming closer to my heat. I moisten every time that you get close and don’t touch me. I am not disappointed.
Soon I feel the heat of your mouth directly on me, nibbling on me, licking me through the panties. I push back wanting the direct stimulation of your lips on the smooth shaved skin. You pull the thong off to the side and begin kissing and licking me. Wonderful feeling surges upward through me as my pleasure center swells and sensitizes further. I open my thighs more and I feel you lick me harder and suckle directly on that place familiar to you. I moan and pant between open lips, my eyes closed and my hands gripping the edges of the table. My inner fires burn and my body starts yearning for fulfillment. I moan in protest when you stop and pull away from me. I feel you insert a finger or two within me rubbing just an inch or two inside, gently, teasingly. You lean over me until your lips are near my ear and whisper, “That feel good?” I moan and thrust my hips a little in time with your fingers nodding. “You want me don’t you,” you ask, “want me inside you.” I nod. You’ve never done anything quite like it before and it is exciting me. Your fingers slide out of my very wet essence and start to rub on the little sensitive nodule that you know so expertly how to touch gently and arousingly.
“Tell me,” you say, “Tell me that you want me.”I whisper breathlessly, “I want you.”I jerk as your hand comes down hard on my bottom. “Louder.” You say.“I want you.” I say loudly.Over my shoulder I see a wolfish look come across your face as you step behind me, rubbing what has got to be the pink mark of your hand. I can see and hear your rustlings as you free yourself of your pants, feel you as you caress me tenderly, as you spread my moisture around. I feel it when you place your throbbing member between my buttocks and stroke a little, stroking down through my wetness and then running it over my swollen bud. I suck in my breath sharply every time it goes over that place.
“Mmmmmmm,” I hear you moan. I chance a glance over my shoulder at you, see the look of restraint on your face. “My little dirty girl are you.” You say as you look at me, I can only nod. I can see that you are doing this for me as much as for you. The knowledge pushes my arousal up a notch. “My little dirty girl wants me to fuck her.” I don’t have to say it for you to know it is true. Again you lean close to me, taking a handful of hair and lifting my ear up to your lips, “Beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you beg me for it and then I want you to be nice and noisy for me.” The deep tones of your masculine aroused voice, your actions, and the slight discomfort of the position and the pulling of my hair all act to push me to a place where I would do anything to have you inside me. My body almost hurts with need.“Yes,” I say, “I want you to fuck me…fuck me please.”You release my hair for a moment while you take up your position behind me. “Again.” You say.
This time, when my voice comes out, I can hear the longing and need in it. “Fuck me, I need you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”By the time the third word is out, you take up my panties in your fist and forcefully rip them off. It doesn’t hurt me, just surprises me and I cry out a little as a result.I feel the thick, heavy, pulsing head of your engorged cock at my tender nether lips, you sliding in and out just a little. I groan deep in my throat, my pussy hungry to be filled, needing to be filled.You slip into me slowly, excruciatingly slow. Taking me by inches while my body opens for you. In my desperation I try to thrust myself back on you but you respond by pushing my back down farther on the table and holding my hips in place. In what seems like a lifetime I feel you settle in me. You hold perfectly still and my body clenches around you, admiring your dimensions.
“Tell me what you want.” You push into me more and I gasp at it. My body trembles and I say, “Fuck my pussy….please fuck me.” You withdraw almost all the way and then slowly slide in again. I moan loudly. “Who’s pussy is it.” You say. There has never been a doubt as to whom my treasure belongs to. As you withdraw I say, “You, my pussy is yours.”
You set a rhythm that is not quick and is not slow. It is maddeningly steady; I can feel the desperate need to climax deep inside being stoked each time your hardness fills me up. My moans become louder and louder as the tension builds. I can hear your own efforts as well; see your face set with passion and hunger. You catch me watching you and grab up my hair once more, arching my back, the angle shifts and I cry out as you thrust. My legs shake as your other hand comes around to the front and begins manipulating the tender clitoris. “Oh, God,” I begin to say over and over as my need fills me and I want to burst with the desire to cum.Your hand works between my thighs in rhythm with your strokes. The spiral tightens deep inside and I know that I am ready, that I can’t hold it off anymore.“Ohhhh, Fuck!,” I say loudly. “I’m going to cum.” It comes out broken up and breathless as the wave hits me and starts to wash over me. You pound into me harder, releasing my hair as my face presses against the table and I am clearly in the throws of my rapture. I feel myself flexing and clenching over and around you. The shudders being egged on by your fingers. I don’t need to see my face to know that it shows what I am feeling, my moans more like screams as you drive into me over and over again.Your pace picks up until you are riding me hard and fast. Your passion noises deep in your throat, teeth gritted.
“Oh Baby!” You exclaim as you withdraw quickly from me, grabbing me up and forcing me to my knees. I go willingly until I am faced with the purple, engorged head of your manhood. You press it against my lips and I open them to take you inside the warm recesses of my mouth. With your hand in my hair you start to thrust. I suckle in time with your thrusts. Running my tongue over you and caressing you with my lips. I can see your thighs trembling, hear your ragged breath, feel your cock expand even farther as you thrust. I keep up my attentions as you push between my swollen lips. In a moment I hear your orgasm hit you. You tense, groan loudly and your maleness jerking as it lets go with your seed. I catch the first part and swallow, continually caressing and stimulating. The pressure of your hands lets me know how and where you need me to stimulate. Your body buckles as your pleasure empties between my lips.As you come down, I suckle you gently, licking the rim and bottom tenderly. You are not flaccid but I can tell the initial demand is gone.You urge me to my feet, taking my face between your strong calloused hands and kiss me.
“Thank you,” I say, “That was very nice.”“But of course.” You say, your voice still full of our pleasures. You take me by the hand and lead me into the bedroom.
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The Glen
By ncmd_couple, in Erotic Couplings,
Steve had chosen the setting with care, the spot where the picnic would be held, the blanket, the basket, the lunch, and the wine. Each had been chosen after much thought and consultation with cookbooks and resources on the net. He wanted this picnic to be as perfect as possible.
Terry looked again at the invitation she had received. In appearance, you would think it was an invitation to a formal dinner at the White House. However, what it invited her to was a picnic with Steve. “I would be most pleased if you would join me for a picnic lunch, soaking up the spring sunshine, and a private swim.” The note provided detailed instructions on how to get to the picnicking spot. She called Steve to accept the invitation with more excitement than she had expected. Walking into her bedroom, she wondered, “Hmmm … what should I wear?” As she looked through the clothes in her walk in closet she considered the words of the invitation … the key words for her were “sunshine” and “private swim.” Choosing a snow white mid-thigh length sundress, she stepped back into her bedroom. Terry was nude as she stood in front of the mirror and held the dress up in front of her.
Her image reflected in the mirror as she brought up the dress, her dark golden skin that glowed with the Native American part of her heritage. Her dark auburn hair flowing down to her shoulders and flashed with deep red as she walked through the sun from the skylight. Her eyes are a clear brown that reflects flecks of gold in the sunlight. Her cheekbones show her heritage with a strong chin just below full lips. Her shoulders are broad and perfectly match her womanly hips and waist. Her 36C breasts are perfectly proportioned to match the rest with nipples that hint of the babies who had suckled there. Just below the slight swell of a belly, her pubic mound is smooth, shaved, and tanned. At five foot ten, she has long firm legs that are spread slightly and support her and in her building excitement, you can just catch the hint of her swelling pussy lips between her legs as the sun shines on the floor behind her.
While Terry is selecting her dress, Steve is in the glen carefully preparing for the picnic. Typically male, he was wearing old cut-off dungarees and a black tank top; he selected his cloths with comfort and the weather in mind. Steve is not big enough to be hulking, but at an even six feet, his broad muscular shoulders and powerful legs reflect his Celtic Warrior heritage, not a love for the gym. His fine brown hair is short but no longer reflected his military days. His soft brown beard is starting to show a little gray, although his hair does not. His chest, legs, and arms were covered in soft hair that is ample, but not excessive
Steve carefully selects the spot to lay out the large blanket he had chosen, spreading out the softly quilted cotton he places the picnic basket and sets out fine china plates and delicate crystal wine glasses that sang. Each place setting does not miss a detail. Taking the two bottles of wine that he had brought, we walks to the stream, secures a line to each, then lowers them into the coldest part of the stream to chill. Looking over his preparations, he decided that everything was perfect. Sitting back on a large, smooth, flat, white stone which extended like a diving board over the crystal clear pool at the base of the water fall, he pulls off his tank top, lights a cigarette and soaks up the warm sun while waiting for Terry to arrive.
The glen was nestled in a forested valley. Nothing can be heard there except the slight rustle of the trees, the gentle roar of the falls, and the occasional sound of wildlife. Almost a half circle of short green grass fifty yards across, it faces the south side of the stream. The West end of the stream, as it enters the glen, is an eight foot water fall that had formed a deep crystal clear pool perfect for swimming. The stream had smaller pools that were fed as the waters gurgled between the rocks. At the head of the falls and at various places along the stream, water from hot springs mix with the icy chill of the mountains to create varying temperatures depending on where you were. The north side of the stream is heavily forested and soars with rocky outcroppings that sparkle with waterfalls large and small. Always lush, even in winter, the glen is a place out of time.
Hearing a slight rustle from the other side of the stream, Steve looks and sees a large whitetail buck step powerfully from the forest. The buck decides that Steve is no threat and lowers his head to drink. Suddenly the buck’s head comes up high and with a single leap disappears. Turning his head the other way, Steve sees Terry enter the other side of the glen. Rising from the stone, he walks toward the picnic blanket that is between them and prepares to meet his guest with a rapidly beating heart.
As Terry walks out of the shadows of the forest toward him, the sun turns her hair to an auburn fire and her sundress into a white fog. A fog that only shadows her nudity as the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips fill Steve’s eyes. As his eyes drink her in, his eyes move up until the only thing he sees are the pools of brown that are hers.
As Terry steps up to Steve he takes her hands in his and while still swimming in the pools of her eyes says, “Welcome to my glen, you just missed a huge whitetail buck.”
With a chuckle and a smile, Terry responds, “Damn, I’m always missing the good sights, but that is ok, because I have a great sight right here in front of me.”
Steve turns to face the glen, the falls, and the picnic, with an encompassing wave of his arm he says, “I hope you like the glen, it is my favorite place to get away and relax. You are extremely beautiful this afternoon and as you walked across the glen, the sun dancing in your hair, I couldn’t help but notice the sun outlining your body through your dress. Do you often walk in the woods practically nude?”
Slightly surprised at the turn of his words Terry said, “Ahhh you are very observant. Is it ok with you that I am not wear anything under my dress?”
Smiling into her eyes he said, “Of course ... I wasn't planning on swim suits when we take a swim later anyway.
With a slight theatrical look of fear, Terry replied, “Hmm will you make sure I don’t drown. I’m not a good swimmer.”
Squeezing her hand firmly, “It’s not too deep, you can touch bottom most places, and besides, I will be right beside you all the time.”
Moving closer to him so that the warmth of their bodies, though not quite touching, could be felt Terry replied, “That’s good honey. I would love to have you holding me while under the waterfall. Hmmm which would you like to do first, eat, the waterfall, or what?”
Hearing Terry call him “Honey” caused his heart to pound as the sight, warmth, and smell of her caused his manhood to start to swell and strain against his shorts, “We have plenty of time to eat.”
Looking deeply into each other’s eyes, they move into each other’s arms and kiss very passionately. Molding their bodies to each other, slowly without breaking the kiss, he relaxes his embrace and moves around her so that he can gently caress her breasts with his hands through her dress from behind. As his hands lightly touch the curve of her breasts, lightly touching the tip of each nipple, Terry raises her hand up behind his neck, pulls their lips closer, opening her mouth, and lightly flicks his tongue with hers. Arching her back, she pushes back against his groin while lifting her breasts more firmly into his moving hands.
Steve slowly moves his kiss from her lips moving across her cheek. Gently brushing her skin, he kisses the lobe of her ear and kisses her neck. Slowly working down to gently kiss the back and side of her neck, a low moan of pleasure comes from deep within Terry. “I love it when you kiss my neck.” She says as her eyes close and her head tilts so that he has easy access to her skin. Her hand and fingers move up from the back of his neck and move through his hair, she moves her other hand around behind her onto Steve’s stomach and moves it slowly downward.
Massaging her breasts, he gently roles her erect nipples between his fingers then works with a feather light touch down around the tender skin at the curve of her breast. The touch of his hands and the feel of his lips upon her ear lobe forces another deep moan from her lips as she pushes her entire weight back against him. Fanning his fingers he slowly spread them down across her stomach and gently bring them across the swell of her hips then slowly up her sides across her breasts, then up to her shoulders. Sliding a finger under each shoulder strap of her sundress, he pulls them down off her shoulders and then slides her dress down over her breasts. Bare skin touching, like a floodgate of fire opening between them and the dress moves slowly downward. Only the pressure between them held the dress at her waist as his hands move back up her silky sides and stomach to caress her bare breasts and role her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Pulling gently then pressing them to her firmly under his hands.
Loving the warm feeling of his chest against her back, Terry turns around to face him. The feel of her breasts and rock hard nipples moving through the soft hair of his chest were burning points of pleasure for both of them. Putting her arms around him, her hands massage his back pulling him closer. With Terry’s height and long legs Steve is able to slide both of his hands inside the precariously perched sundress to cup both of her cheeks in his hands, pulling her as close to him as possible. With his fingers spread, he moves his hands up the cheeks of her ass with this thumbs tracing the line as they move up to the base of her spine.
Terry’s lips and tongue continued kissing and licking his neck. Slowly she moves her lips all around his neck kissing him as she moves. Her tongue comes out and licks his ear and neck, slowly sucking in the skin of his neck. While they are embraced with one another her hands move to the front of his cut-off jeans and she unbuttons them. Unzipping them, she pulls them down low enough so they just drop to the ground at the same time that the pressure is released and her sundress also falls.
Terry’s long legs are a perfect match to Steve and as they move together the top of his erect cock slides along the lips of Terry’s pussy. Like perfectly matching parts, they slide together, the warm moisture of her silky caress on the top of his throbbing manhood. Their passion building, their moving hands and hips and lips exploring each other at a pace that is becoming enflamed as their bodies move together.
One of Terry’s hands slide down Steve’s chest and she grasps the base of his cock. The other slides down the other side and she gently grasps his balls, slowly and very gently massaging them. She gently rolls them around in her hand and her fingers playing with them. Her hand on his cock is stroking it very gently. Pulling it and pushing the skin back and forth while guiding him closer and closer to entering her as she started to raise up on her toes in expectation and desire.
Steve knew that they were losing control. He moved his mouth down the right side of her neck and down her breast until he could run his tongue around her nipple just before he sucked in her incredibly hard one-inch nipple. Rubbing it with his tongue just as he slid his cock back along her lips as he moved his body lower. Massaging her back and the cheeks of her ass, he pulls her toward him, pressing his face into her breast.
As Terry feels him suck her nipple into his mouth and the lost sensation of his cock against her, she releases a moaning growl that quickly returns to a moan of pleasure. As one of his hands reaches around her leg then gently traces the lips of her pussy pulling the moisture and her mind with the edge of his hand as he brings it up between the cheeks of her ass. Terry bends her head forward, hugs, and kisses his head while he sucks on her breast.
Pulling back, Steve lets her right nipple pop from his lips just before he starts moving his mouth over to her left breast to suck her fantastic nipple into his mouth. All the while he is using his hands to explore every inch of her golden skin. Sucking strongly on her left breast that tiny drop of mother’s milk that never goes away dropped from the tip of her nipple onto the top of his tongue. Pulling again, he let her nipple pop from his mouth and his tongue flashed out and licked the underside of her breast.
Slowly he worked his way down her stomach, kissing and licking around her belly button. His tongue thoroughly explored the skin of her belly. Tasting the tender skin that would normally be covered by her pubic hair, a new experience that excited him. He moved his tongue down the right side of her mound just at the crease of her leg.
Terry had never really liked oral sex. Something had always been lacking. But the tip of Steve’s tongue drew a line of sensations wherever it moved. She spread her legs farther apart in anticipation of where his tongue might choose to travel. She grasped his head gently, letting her fingers run through his hair. Holding him as much as an anchor, to keep her from falling backwards as she arched her back then leaned forward, instinctively trying to move as her body tried to completely take over her mind. As his tongue moved up the inside of her right thigh, it moved higher, just touching her swollen pussy lips his tongue traveled up and just glanced the exposed hood of her clit. A throaty moan and shiver passed through her body at that fleeting touch.
Feeling the shiver pass through her, Steve moved his tongue down the other side of her pussy, letting just the tip brush her clit causing another shiver as his tongue moved down the outer edges of her pussy lips. Moving along her lips then down her thigh a short way then back up her other leg and across her pubic mound. He moved up until he gently kissed the underside of each of her breasts as her pubic mound ground into his chest.
Holding her in his strong arms, he gently lowered her onto the blanket. Sucking one nipple then the other into his mouth, he leaned forward and kissed her passionately on the lips then moved back down to her breasts as her arms spread out above her. Her back arched pressing her nipples into his mouth. He moved downward again, more rapidly, but keeping his lips in contact with her skin as he passed over her silky smooth pubic mound. Parting her pussy lips with his tongue he sucked the hood of her clit into his mouth and rapidly flicked the tip of his tongue over the delicate exposed skin of her clit. His warm mouth and lips placed firmly against her pussy as his tongue strummed a rapid cord on her soul.
Her whole body was shaking and her legs became very tight as she felt his tongue all around her pussy and clit. The warmth and wetness of his tongue felt so good. She felt herself cumming and thrust her hips upward. He let her pussy travel upward and let his tongue travel down her pussy plunging it deeply into her as he felt the gush of her cum flow across his tongue, into his mouth, and soak his already wet beard. Her hips moved downward again and he let his mouth move up to her clit. Again sucking the hood out of the way and strumming his tongue on her.
Terry let out another moan then said; “I want you to turn around so that I can suck you. I want you so that I can lick and kiss your cock. Turn around baby so that I may have you.”
Steve slowly rolled her onto her left side as he moved from between her legs; always keeping his mouth and tongue on her quivering pussy lips. As he lay beside her, he rolled her over on top of him. He could feel her breasts breast against his skin and her lips touch the end of his cock. With his excitement, a drop of cum formed and she gently licked it off. His hands moving slowly over her body and cupping her breasts. Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he sucked her clit into his mouth again...
She sucked the small amount of pre-cum that had seeped out of his cock. Her tongue moved up and down his cock slowly licking his balls. She felt his hands on her breast and pushed them deeper into his hands and he squeezed them. As her tongue and lips slide over his balls, she sucked his balls inside her mouth and rolled them with her tongue. Sucking on them every so gently. Her hands are between his legs, moving them outward so that she could feel his muscles tighten as her mouth sucked on his balls. She slowly released his balls and starts to lick his cock.
Starting at the bottom and slowly working upward, her lips came to the tip of his cock. But she does not place his cock in her mouth. She slowly ran her tongue over the tip and licked the slit of his cock. She tasted his excitement and licks it from the slit. She slowly moves down the other side of his cock and back up again to the tip. Slowly she placed just the tip of his cock into her mouth. Just to the base of the head so that he could feel the wetness of her mouth on the tip. Her tongue rolled all around the tip then placed her tongue into the slit.
His muscles quivered from her touch and her tongue. Slowly he ran his tongue across the skin inside her pussy lips and plunging it deeply into her pussy. Then he ran it over the skin between her pussy and her ass then back along the edges of her pussy and back to her clit. He sucked her clit into his mouth and rapidly fluttered his tongue against the tip as his right hand moved down her back and massaged the cheek of her ass. Running his finger from the base of her spine down the crack, passed it over her ass, and reached one finger into her pussy in search of her G spot. Keeping her clit in his mouth he constantly flicked it with his tongue trying to bring her a powerful orgasm as he started to quiver into his.
As she felt his finger go deep inside her pussy she moaned with excitement. She could feel her aching pussy want to release its cum into his mouth. When she felt his finger moving all around inside of her she gasped for air and her mouth suddenly plunged down on his cock. As she deep-throated his cock she tightened the grip around his cock with her mouth. He can feel the back of her throat with the head of his cock.
She began to suck on his cock very strongly as she felt him looking for her G-spot. She moved her head up and down on his cock. She was sucking his cock so hard that he cum seeped inside her mouth just a little. Stroking his cock with her mouth, he could feel her tongue running up and down his shaft. She stroked a little faster and harder with every movement of her head. She began to rapidly use her mouth and tongue on his cock.
As he felt the head of his cock touch the back of her throat he came with an explosion that caused his whole body to shake with spasms. When he regained control he moved his mouth up to her pussy and licked and sucked, drinking in the juices that were flowing from her pussy. His face was slick and he felt the inside of her pussy with his tongue.
Faster and harder. “Ahhhh I want to cum in your mouth and with your tongue flickering my clit and you finger finding myeah G-spot Ahhhhh ...” Her quivering body released a flow of cum dripped from his hand and flowed into his mouth.
As she hit her peak he rolled her over so that he had her pinned then he goes back to her clit to bring her back to another orgasm. As he felt her hitting another one he slowly and gently ran his tongue around her pussy, gently flicking the tip of her clit on each pass until he felt her starting to relax.
He turned and laid down beside her on the blanket, holding her as their arms and legs entwined. The warmth of the sun and the smell of the grass mingled with the sheen of sweat that covered their bodies. Trembling slightly they kissed, gently and slowly, tasting each other and themselves on their lips. Slowly they relaxed and restored each other in the warm sun of the glen.
The huge whitetail buck tossed his great rack of antlers, took a sip of water from the stream, and then quietly disappeared back into the forest.
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A Primal Urge
By kittyscave, in Erotic Couplings,
You work so hard to provide for your family. You put up with a jackass boss who will never know as much about the business as you. You overlook the incompetent secretary whose only job description seems to be blowing your worthless boss. And, while you work at least 50 hours a week, you almost always leave work at the office. I truly appreciate that about you and I know it isn’t an easy feat.
I also know you are staying late at work tonight. There’s a big project due in a few days, and, naturally, you are responsible for it. I always think how lucky I am that you are responsible and thoughtful enough to call home when you will be late or missing dinner. So, I figured that tonight would be as good a time as any to show how deeply I appreciate you.
I’ve actually been playing this scenario in my head for weeks. Just the thought of it has had me aroused way more than I wanted to let on. I have gone shopping, come up with excuses to be out of the house, lined up babysitters, and thought of just the right things to say to you when the right time finally arrived. Tonight would be that night.
At 4:30 I get the call from you that this would be another very late night. I wonder if you pick up on the excitement in my voice. I suppose it might seem odd to you, and you would probably just overlook it. But, I am excited. With the kids shipped off to my sister’s house, I go about showering, applying the vanilla spice body spray you like, fixing my hair and putting on my make up. My body tingles as I pull from its tissue paper wrapping, my new corset and panties and sheer silk stockings. When no one was at home, I practiced walking in my five inch platform black heels. My strut is perfect.
I feel incredibly naughty, and a bit chilly, driving across town to your office in my corset outfit covered in a trench coat. I drive slowly, praying not to be pulled over by the police.
I show up at your office and enter quietly, ensuring first that everyone else has left for the evening. My nerves are on high alert and my knees begin to shake a little. Ducking into the ladies room, I check my look one last time. A little more lipstick, adjust the boobs, fluff the hair, and off I go down the hall. I don’t even think you realize I am in the room when I walk into your office and lock the door.I stand across your desk from you,
"Work time is over, baby. All work and no play will make you a very dull and horny boy. Am I right? When was the last time a seductive stranger took advantage of you?”
I can’t help but smile at your bewildered, aroused, and incredibly handsome face as you shrug your shoulders, apparently rendered speechless.
“That's what I thought. You need it very badly, don't you baby?" Walking behind the desk toward you, I spin you around in your chair to look at me and I open my coat for you. I am standing in front of you in nothing but a very sexy tight black push-up corset, laced up the front with red string and red ribbons woven through the panels; my large heavy breasts are almost flowing over the top. I wear tiny black lace panties with the side strings high on my hips, diving down into a “v” with a small patch of red and black lace over satin hiding the neatly groomed tuft of dark hair beneath. My toned tan legs are wrapped in black silk, a seam running up the back, culminating in lacy trim hugging my thighs mid way up. The black platform heels are, in and of themselves, rather humorous. But, when paired with the corset, panties, and stockings, they look and make me feel, like a goddess. My already long legs seem to go on forever. My long dark hair is in soft waves over my shoulders, my sculpted nails and full lips are a crimson red, my brown eyes smolder with gold shadow and dark liner.I allow the coat to fall from my shoulders and I turn in a complete circle, providing you a view of my full round back side, shapely calves, and sensuous back.
"We're going to play a game. It's called tease. You will sit in that chair with your hands by your side and you will not touch me. However, I may, at my own discretion place your hand on me, or use it as I wish. But, if you touch me without being granted permission or having been led to do so, the game will be over and I will put my coat on and go home. Do you understand me, baby?"As you nod your head, I sit, straddling you, in your lap. Taking your head in my hands, I passionately kiss you. Your hands instinctively wrap around me in a loving and equally passionate embrace, and I abruptly stand.
"Have you lost the game already?"
"No, please, I won't screw up again" you say, smiling.
"Okay"
I sit back down on you and continue our kissing. We engage in long, loving and lust-filled kisses where your tongue finds mine and plays in my mouth. We kiss for several minutes as I feel a bulge developing in your pants.Standing up again before you, I fold one knee onto your chair between your legs and against your growing cock. Reaching behind me, I unzip my corset top and hold the sides out, with the stiff front still tightly pressed against my chest. Moving the rough lacy material against my breasts, my nipples become visibly erect. I slide my corset top off and toss it to the ground. Holding them in both hands, I massage and fondle my tits. Moving closer to you as you move in to me, I place your face between them before smothering you deep between my supple breasts.
"Please”, I moan “Put them in your mouth and roll over my nipples with your tongue"
You oblige as I hold my heavy tits up to your mouth. Your suckling at my stiff nipples leaves them that much more sensitive. Withdrawing my breasts from your mouth, I stand upright again and turn around.Without saying a word, holding on to the arms of your chair with your chair back against the desk, I sit back on you again, my stocking clad legs outside of yours. I feel your heat and hardness as I grind my firm round ass into your groin. The combination of anticipation, dressing up, and your touch and kisses, has me incredibly aroused and sexually excited.
I stand in my high heels now and straighten my legs, positioning what you affectionately refer to as my “fine perky ass” directly in your face to look at but not close enough to touch, given the rules of the game. Reaching down between my legs, I unzip your pants, freeing your huge hard cock. Slowly, I slide my ass down your chest and with both hands, draw your cock between my legs. Rubbing my crotch on your sensitive rod, you feel the satin of my panties and the smooth soft delicate skin peeking through the sides. As I rub against you, my wetness leaves a moist streak on your dick.
"Ooohhh, darn. I think my panties are wet”, I say playfully. “Will you check for me, please?"
Raising my lower region to your face again, I lean over and lick the head of your cock as you bury your face in my wet pussy. Your tongue licks and your teeth pull at the fabric hiding my silky slit from you. Sweet juices coming through the fabric tease your senses as your hand rises to pull me into you and you beg me to let you grab my hips.
"No baby, you are not allowed the use of your hands at this time".
I sit back onto your face as your tongue finds its way past the lace and slides between my soft supple lips and I slide the head of your cock between my crimson painted lips."Mmmmmmm, I am really going to enjoy myself tonight as I use you for my pleasure"
Doubled over, almost in half, I have my ass and pussy in your face and mouth and my mouth and lips sealed tightly around your cock.
"Hold onto my hips, baby, and don't let me fall over. You can use your hands to move my panties aside".
Your tongue slides softly at first across my smooth cunny as my tongue traces the pulsing veins in your growing shaft. We spend an amazing half hour just licking, sucking, and face fucking each other. Your cock grows so strong and hard in my mouth as my pussy swells and ripens dispensing waves and waves of nectar into yours. As your licks and sucks grow more furtive, I feel your hips buck sending your enormous cock down my throat and I hear you beginning to plead with me to take you into my folds.
I love to hear how much you want me to slide your steely hard-on into my silky depths. It gets me so hot, I want you that much more knowing how strongly you are overcome with lust for me. I can almost feel your body physically aching to be inside of my tight wet slit, feeling you lurch toward me like a hungry tiger driven solely by desire and overwhelming passion. I love to tease you and to see how far I can push your limits. Thus far, you have been a great sport and the way you eat my pussy makes the game all the more delightful for me. After a while, though, I sense you becoming less verbally responsive and more aggressive with your tongue as your hands grab me in an almost painfully secure hold to cram my cunt against your face and face fuck me as though your tongue were actually a cock wanting to shoot off.Unable to contain your consuming drive to take me any longer, unable to stand a moment more of my pussy in your face, of me sucking your cock into my wanting mouth, you grab my waist and push me away. I am startled by your move and I don't understand until I look into your eyes. I don't see you. I see the crazed tiger, looking at me like a piece of meat, a primal urge to fornicate and overpower.
Without saying a word, and in one fail swoop, you clear your desk of papers, phone, and files. Pushing me over onto it, I fall from the waist up and grab hold of the sides. I hear you grunting as you throw my legs open and your fingers probe for my fuck hole. Reaching back you grab your dick and slide it into my velvet glove, feeling it wrap around you, providing the hot tight fit your body yearned for. But this fuck is different. This isn't a passionate or romantic love making session, this is a base mammalian primal urge let loose from the deepest recesses of your brain. This is a fuck driven by evolution.
Powerful thrusts with years of survival by the fittest behind them. Blinded by physical forces that even you do not understand, you don't see your office, you don't see me, your eyes are closed as your cock directs the action. Releasing sexual energy from a primitive place in your psyche that you never even knew existed. Your mind screaming for release, your senses heightened but not at all present in the moment, your ears deaf to my passionate moans, your eyes blinded by lust unable to see but the brightest flashes of light driven by impulses finally met.After an indeterminable amount of time spent in forceful, base instinct driven animalistic fucking, with me screaming as I cum over and over, you begin to settle back to earth, still completely oblivious to your surroundings and my being. Looking down, as if out of your body, you watch yourself fucking me, pounding your hips against my ass, powerfully and with complete disregard for the hole you ream. Looking back at you, it seems to me that the sight appears to intensify your need.
As you come further to your senses, you become more aware of your surroundings, your office in disarray, my corset and torn panties on the floor amidst your paperwork and belongings. You look down and see my spent body splayed on the desk, my full round ass still held high in front of you, my tits sandwiched on the desk, spilling out the sides, my hair over my face and down my back, and the most incredible feeling building in your balls.As you pump me faster than mere humans can and your hands dig deep into the flesh of my hips, I realize that you are drifting again into another stage of arousal. Your thrusts are deeper and faster than anything I have ever felt. As if being pumped by a machine, I hold tightly to the desk listening to your grunts and moans, wondering what has become of you, unable to move under your weight and the slamming drives of your body into mine.With no additional warning, I feel you tighten up against me. Then, as if all your primitive ancestors had been released, you let loose a yell that would wake Satan in hell. I have never heard such a sound and it reverberates through my body in vibrations. It scares me as it penetrates my body filling me with your passion as you fill me with your cum. Such interjection of your primal sexual being into me through both your spirit and your body causes me to cum again in unison with you.Your body convulses as the cum pent up from your Neanderthal past rises through your veins and courses out of you with such velocity and strength that it hurts as it demands its forceful release. The surge from your body into mine almost sends me forward as hard as your powerful thrusts have. My pussy lips, weary from the lustful torrent, nonetheless, tighten around your cock to ensure the safe passage of your seeds. Once released, you step back, disoriented and confused, sitting on the floor, dazed and spent. I am plastered to the desk, cum pouring down my weak legs, equally immobile. Neither of us able to speak, both breathing heavily, feeling the most wonderful reverie ever experienced.
Finally, with sex still hanging heavy in the air, you break the silence.
“I think I will be working late again tomorrow”.
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Pam
By Ntexcouple, in Erotic Couplings,
I told Nancy good morning, but I hoped she was not expecting a hell of a lot of action after last night. She replied that she was sore as hell and I was not even going down there this morning. She said that she woke up and she was there and I was there and my dick was there and she just wanted to thank me for what made her so sore.
We got up and had some coffee and after I got dressed I told her that I had some work to do and I would call her later in the week.
Thursday evening after I had been working all day the phone rang. It was Nancy and after about five minutes of small talk she said that she did not know what I did last Friday night at the club, but I seemed to have made an impression on Pam. I asked her how’s that and she told me that Pam has been asking her things about me all week at work. I asked her what kind of questions was she asking. She asked about my age, what did I do for a living, how long had Nancy known me, then she asked Nancy what kind of relationship did she and I have. She told me that she told Pam that we had gone out a couple of times but we were just friends.
I asked Nancy for Pam’s phone number and said I might call her and Nancy reminded me that Pam was not into the swinging lifestyle and she did not want to see her friend get hurt. I reminded her that not all of my social life had to do with swinging, and I knew how to behave like a gentleman when needed. Nancy apologized and said that she knew that I could behave and then asked me if I really liked Pam. I replied that like I had told her before that I thought she was interesting.
I called Pam on Tuesday of the following week and I guess we talked for about an hour. We made a dinner date for Saturday night at a Mexican restaurant that she liked. I took her home around 10 and sat and we talked to about midnight. It was enjoyable just being with her and learning things about her.
(Forward in time.)
Pam and I have been seeing each other going on six months now. At first it was one date a week, then we began to spend more time together till it was all of our free time was spent together. Well almost all of our free time. I get along with her daughter and granddaughter. The little girl just learned to swim so when they come out to the house she just lives in the pool. I rented a condo in Red River for the 4th of July weekend and took all three up there and we had a blast. The girls had never been there and they just loved the town and shopping, and I got to do a little fishing.
The first weekend in August I picked Pam up on Friday night for dinner and a movie. When she came out to the car she was carrying a small tote bag. I did not think anything of it until after the movie. We left the theater and got into the car and out of the blue Pam turned to me and said take me home. I was a little puzzled at this because she has never told me straight out that she wanted me to take her home. I told her that was what I intended to do. She replied not her home but my home. I looked her in the eye and asked her if she was sure that was what she wanted and she assured me that it was with a deep kiss and a soft yes. I asked what was she going to tell her daughter about coming home so late, and she told me that she had already told her not to expect her home until some time tomorrow. She told me that her daughter said, " Well it’s about time and to have fun,"
My house is 12 miles from town and that was the longest, quietest 12 miles that I can remember driving. I was as nervous as a teenager on his first date. My emotions were running the gambit. Joy, fear, excitement, dread, anticipation, all flowing through me at one time. When we walked up to the door my hand was shaking so I did not think I could unlock the damn house.
I fixed us a drink and we sat down at the bar. You could feel the excitement and fear in the air coming from both of us. The conversation was labored and littered with small talk. It was like neither one of us wanted to talk about what we both knew was about to take place. Pam stood up and excused herself to the bathroom and as she walked through the den she picked up her tote bag.
I heard the bathroom door close so I ran to the bedroom to make sure that it was picked up and the bed was made. I remembered that I had changed the sheets the day before so they were clean. As a man living alone you don’t think about things like that as often as you should. I went back to the bar and fixed me another drink to help me calm down some. After what seamed like an eternity I heard the bathroom door open. Pam walked back into the den and my jaw drooped when I saw her. I know that she heard me say "My God"
She had on a baby blue not quite see through teddy with a matching bra and panties. Her red hair hung down past her shoulders and her green eyes seamed to glow in contrast with her hair. She walked slowly over to me and out her army’s around my neck and leaned in and kissed me deeply. When she pulled away she looked me in the eyes and said for me not to say a word because her fear might overcome her and she would back out of this. She took me by the hand and led me down the hall to the bedroom.
When we got into the bedroom she once again turned to me and kissed me deeply with her tongue probing my mouth in a seductive way. She told me to keep the lights off and to undress and get into bed. She walked around to the far side of the bed and began to undress. She was standing in front of a double window and there was just enough moon light coming through that I could see her silhouette as she disrobed. I was undressing and at the same time watching her. She removed the teddy and reached around to unhook her bra from the back. As she slid it from her arms I could see the full shape of her breast and her nipples standing out. They were round and full and her nipples stood out like pencil erasers. As she slowly slid her panties down I could see her white skin glisten in the moon light. I had my clothes off about the same time as she did and we both pulled back the covers and slid into our side of the bed at the same time. My dick was harder than I every remember it being and I was a little scared to get to close to her and let her know how hard I was for fear of her thinking the wrong thing. Truth was that I had dreamed of this very moment from the first time I saw her.
Six months earlier I wanted to fuck this woman, and I could have done it easy without all the emotions that I was feeling now. Tonight I wanted to make love to her, but not at the expense of losing her. It dawned on me that I have not felt this way about women since Dee. I wanted Pam so bad but not for just a fuck. I wanted her for a partner in life. My fear of loosing her was so great that I almost got out of bed. I lay on my side and she on hers.
She asked if I was nervous and I told her very. She said she was too. She said that she had only been with one other man since her husband and it did not work out. That most of the men that she had dated have been all hands on the first date or second date and that was the end of that. She asked me why I had never been that way with her; did I not find her attractive? I told her that I found her very attractive from the moment that I first laid eyes on her. I at first found her very interesting, then I found that I liked her company and enjoyed being with her, then I found that I thought I was falling in love with her, and now I am afraid that I might loose her if things don’t go right tonight.
She moved over next to me still laying on her to face me, I could not believe the beautiful sight that was before my eyes. Her tits were resting on my chest and I could feel the heat from her body as they pressed against me. She looked at me and said that I was not going to loose her. Even in the dark room with the faint moon light I could see the sparkle in her eyes as she came closed to my face. Our lips met and we kissed. I felt my hand running slowly up and down her back. I could feel her soft skin under the touch of my callused hands. I could feel her heat as her body pressed closer to mine. My hand found its way down to her soft round ass as I slowly rubbed her backside. I felt her legs part every so slightly as one of my fingers slid down her ass and between her legs. I felt the fire and her dampness as I slowly inserted my finger into her pussy. She gave a small groan and drove her tongue deeper into my mouth. Our kiss was becoming one of passion and lust. I felt her hand slide down my chest and start rubbing my rock hard cock from tip to nuts. I inserted another finger into her hot wet box and heard another pleasure moan come from her. She broke our kiss and told me that she wanted me, it had been a long time that she felt this way and she wanted me now.
It has been two years that I felt this way about a woman. I was afraid that I was letting myself in for the same hurt that I felt when Dee died. I knew that I could not go through that again and keep my sanity. I had such mixed emotions, I wanted this to continue and I wanted it to stop all at the same time.
We kissed again and all my fears seamed to vanish. I wanted to make love to this woman, not just have recreational sex with her like so many women in the past, but to make love to her. I wanted to give my all to her, my body, my heart, and my soul. I pulled her closer to me and held her body close to mine. I could feel my manhood was as hard as I had every remembered it being and I just hoped that I did not disappoint her tonight. I rolled over on top of her and as I slid into her I can still remember the velvet glove feeling that being inside of her felt.
Our movements were slow, but deliberate. We were both wrapped into the first love making of two people in love. The excitement, the joy, the feelings that were running through me at that moment were things that I had not felt for so long. I could not get enough of her. I wanted to be deeper in her. I wanted to be in her soul. I wanted her so much to want me as I wanted her. I knew in my heart that I had fallen in love again, as much as I tried not to. I had fallen in love again.
We made love in every way a man and a woman could that night, and it seamed so easy and natural. Both giving and both taking and both enjoying what was happening.
(I know that this is not your typically swing story that you see here, but it is the story of Pam and I and what will come)
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"Anything?" she said, looking into his limpid dark eyes.
"Yes," he said. "I'll do anything for your love. Anything you want me to do for you."
She thought a moment, snuggled into him, sending messages of success all through him. "Are you sure you would do anything for me?"
He kissed her hand. "Yes, my love, anything."
"OK," she finally answered. "Wash the dishes, vacuum the floor, and take out the trash."
I know, it's an old joke, but guys should know what really turns a gal on.
The party had been a smash hit. Everyone complimented us on the food, the music, the games, and the other games. Being the hostess, I hadn't gotten it on as much as the others, but I'd had a nice share of the men the previous night. Having exceeded my one drink limit by only one more, I wasn't wiped out, but the party did go late. Poor Jake exceeded his limit by a lot more than that. He'd be in bed until noon. At least my eyes were partly open as I followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen.
I must have been a sight walking in rubbing my fingers through my messy hair and scratching my butt, barely awake… no, more asleep than awake. I murmured something unintelligible, acknowledging the presence of whoever was there but more interested in the coffee he'd made. He poured me a cup, and I managed to put one foot before the other into the dining room. Between the sips of hot coffee and the cold wood of the chair on my bare bottom, I began to come alive again.
Vaguely, I heard clinking noises coming from the kitchen without comprehending what they were. My mind began coming back to me slowly as the caffeine made its way through the fuzzy cotton in my head. I began to realize that I didn't have a hangover. I was just exhausted, not awake yet.
Finally, a thought took form in my head: the cherry cobbler that Doug had spilled on my new rug. How the hell am I going to get that stain up, I thought? Somehow, cutting a hole in the carpet and sewing a chunk of the extra carpeting came to mind.
My mind and my eyes tried to focus on the stain there by the door. No. It's not there. The other door? No, not there either. I began to focus more clearly and scanned the entire dining room. No stain! Had I been dreaming?
Along with the stain, I began to think of the horrible job of clean-up. Parties are great, but the aftereffects are a royal pain in the ass. But wait. The dishes aren't spread over everything. The little towels aren't piled in the doorway.
I managed to get up after another couple of sips of the excellent coffee. The family room is all picked up. There were some crumbs on the green carpet, but there was no mess. The living room had been picked up. What was going on, I wondered?
Re-entering the kitchen, Rusty left the sink to renew my coffee. The sink? I thought. Men don't even know where the sink is, let alone know how to use it. He went back to cleaning the punch bowl. The dishwasher was running, and there were just a few neatly stacked dishes on the counter next to it. The counters were clean. Everything was clean. Suddenly I was awake.
"What happened here, Rusty? Did you…?"
"I always get up early, May, there wasn't anything else to do so I just picked up a little," he said.
"Picked up a little? More than a little, Rusty. Thanks!" I said. At that moment I think I could have traded Jake for Rusty and thrown in our MGB and sailboat. What could I do? I gave him a big hug and a kiss. Not just a kiss but a KISSSSS. All you women know what I felt, don't you? A guy just did something very nice for me, did the work I knew I would have to do. Without having to be nagged. What a release.
I felt really close to Rusty at that moment, and it wasn't just that we were kissing and hugging naked in the kitchen. When I felt his cock rising to the occasion, I really kissed him. What a rush. I wriggled my butt up onto the counter, the clean counter, and opened my legs to him. He knew what to do. He poked at my pussy for a while but didn't try to enter me. After all the sex last night I wasn't lubricating very well yet. He took care of that, though. He went down on his knees and licked my pussy until I was gushing. When he came back up to kiss me again, my aroma and taste sent me up the wall.
With no effort at all, he was deep in my vagina, stirring things up inside me. Wrapping my legs and arms around him, I pulled him to me, reveling in the sexy feelings of his cock inside me and his hands on my boobs. I usually take a long time to cum, but that morning it was like I was on a big slide, slipping down fast, an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that needed filling and he seemed to be filling it very quickly. I'm a loud cummer so I'm sure that if anyone else had been awake at that moment, they would have heard my moans. I came, and I came, and I came, enjoying the hell out of our morning sex. The feelings were indescribable, I shivered and shook, and my gums itched as I went over the hill with him. Then just as I was coming down and back to the world, I felt him shudder, heard him moan, and felt him pump me full of his juices. I love that feeling.
There we were at the kitchen counter, the clean kitchen counter, hugging and kissing, trying to keep his shrinking cock in my pussy, loving every minute when I heard clapping. I opened my eyes to see Barb, Rusty's wife standing in the doorway watching us. All I could say was, "Barb, you've really taught him well, wanna trade?"
She laughed. "I can see that you like what he does."
"You betcha." I waved my free arm to the kitchen. "And it's not just the fucking, Barb. He cleaned up after the party. How'd you teach him to do that?"
She just smiled. "Isn't it obvious? He gets what he wants when he helps around the house. It's a win-win situation."
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