An afternoon fantasy…

Her clear dark skin and black eyes were framed by tendrils of black hair that curled down each side of her round face — I watched her from across the room and as she went about her business imagined full round breasts under her loose sweater; as she turned, I imagined a red silk thong under her tight black dress pants. There was a fleeting image of her dark eyes looking up at me as cum dripped from her chin onto those round breasts. A boyish fantasy to be sure; soon to be forgotten but no less erotic.

Later, the thought of fingers sliding under red silk and through black pubic hair to pink flesh broke my concentration and the soft whispers of fuck me echoed. Fingers played with an awakening clit and entered wet folds; my cock hardened as she rubbed her juices into her clit and whispered fuck me again.

As the video conference was coming to an end, she was straddling my cock and as she rubbed her clit she guided me into her cunt with her other hand – she moaned as I filled her. As the screen went dark I closed my laptop and reached to feel my hardening cock. The desire to fuck her overwhelmed me and I freed my cock to the thought of her fucking me and began stroking to her rhythm.

She was still fucking me when I came, and I kept stroking until the realization I was jerking off at work took over. I quickly wiped my hand on my underwear and did up my pants to cover the mess. The woman with the black tendrils had made me cum hard and I looked around expecting judgemental eyes but there were none.

As I closed my eyes in relief, I saw her beautiful face contort as she came quietly and when she was finished, she composed herself and looked at me with a wry smile.

“Thanks handsome — this is what you get for staring”

fantasy for her…

We can never seem to recall how we found our favourite restaurant, and most times we go just for a cocktail but occasionally, we find ourselves there for a fine meal — on this occasion, we hadn’t been able to connect because of our busy schedules so we were due.

The evening melted away as it always did — we never looked at the menu but asked the chef to choose, and Holly always paired the wine perfectly. The conversation turned, as it always did, from the topics of the day to things we wanted to do and places we needed to get to. Innuendo, knowing smiles, and laughter crept into everything we said, sometimes out loud and sometimes in whispers. We would deliberately order our drinks by the glass, which gave us the opportunity for a new toast each time.

“To wet panties. If only I was wearing any.”

-clink-

The restaurant was never full but always alive with the conversation and laughter from others enjoying a meal or having a drink at the bar. You always knew people were around but never in a way that would intrude on a toast or the whispered idea of a quickie in the bathroom.

“Well, you two seem to be having a wonderful evening. Can I interest you in something for after the meal?”

“It’s been a wonderful evening as always Holly. ”Anything you would recommend?

 Holly smiled.

“For you Simone — absolutely. Give me a few minutes to prepare it.”

Holly walked away before Simone could say anything and we went back to our seduction. We didn’t notice that Holly had come back and removed everything from the table; although we did notice when she returned with three candles that she placed off centre and lit them.  

“Oh, I am liking this already”, Simone whispered.

“Be right back”.

Holly returned with a silver tray and set it in the center of the table. Smiling, she placed a glass of port in front of each of us and moved a small plate of dark chocolate off to the side; she then straightened a small pink envelope that remained on the tray, and when she was satisfied, walked away. We looked at each other and Simone reached for the card. Turning it in her hand she noticed it was sealed with red wax and embossed with a small heart.

“Shall I open it?”

“I’m almost certain it’s for you.”

Simone broke the seal of the envelop and inside was a white card. She removed the card, read it and as she passed it to me, she cooed — in beautiful hand-written script the card read:

I flipped the card over to see if there was anything on the back and then read the card again; as I looked up, Simone was smiling with her glass in hand. I raised my glass and said,

‘To fantasies”

“To a fantasy for me”

-clink-

As we sipped our port and I reached to offer Simone some chocolate, Holly was back one last time. She placed a stack of pink envelops in front of Simone which were neatly held together with a red ribbon. We looked at that the stack of envelops and then at Holly.

“You two are so adorable — enjoy. I may even see you a little later.”

Before we could answer, she backed away smiling and was gone. We looked at each other and then at the envelopes. Simone picked up the stack and turned it gracefully in her hand before she placed it back on the table and removed the ribbon. She lifted the first enveloped and stared at it for a moment and turned it to see a wax seal. She turned it back over and contemplated what it said. She then placed it face down on the table so all I could see was the red wax seal with the embossed heart.

I watched her do it six more times and then she looked at me with a quizzical look. Then she began to turn the envelopes over one by one and placed them on the table so I could see what was written on the front. Simone suggested it may take a while.

-clink-

W

As much a matter of fantasy as fact…

You claim to be a realist or even a cynic, but you are more emotional, romantic, and truthful. Although you are by no means inhibited, your amorous adventures are as much a matter of fantasy as fact.

She laughs as she reads the results of the quiz I’d just taken; more from the look on my face than the answer itself. Leaving no room for discussion, she asks me to share a fantasy —

“You would be relaxing and engrossed in one of your trashy erotic novels when I interrupt and ask if I could paint your nails red, and then with our favourite lube, have you slowly and agonizingly caress my cock until I cum. I want to beg for you to release me and watch my cum spill over your freshly painted red nails — I don’t want to be released from my ecstasy and agony until you are satisfied I have given you all my cum.”   

W

Image Carol Oliver Unsplash

Buying sex toys

I was trying to explain why she was taking all the fun out of buying sex toys by simply going on-line instead going to a sex shop; I was also quick to point out not all sex shops were the same and knew of a place. I enthusiastically went on about the importance of quality sex toys, which like lingerie, I’m discriminating about and a bit snobby about liking what I like. My enthusiasm attracted some interest and she put her phone down but insisted on dinner out as part of the adventure.

As with most places that turn out to be the best in the city, it could be easily missed if you didn’t know what you were looking for. It was one of many shops that over the years had established itself in a turn of the century row house. There was a small sign in the window and hours of operations on the original door that indicated that on some days only women and transgenders are invited in. The original footprint had been repurposed — upstairs for seminars and workshops and the main floor was set-up for literature and paintings, as well as a vast selection of dildos, vibrators, leather goods, butt plugs and a small selection of eclectic clothing for those with very specific tastes. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and the original hardwood flooring creaks slightly as you walk around.

We were greeted with a smile by the man behind the counter, and as is normally the case, there were only a few people there. It was just us and another couple at the far end of the store talking to a woman who, based on her body language and what she was saying, worked in the shop. There is an odd intimacy that occurs surrounded by items designed to explore sexuality in the company of strangers — you are invited, if only for a moment, into their bedroom. As we made our way through the literature and the lubes and the dildos, we found ourselves passive observers of a couple who seemed intent on buying a strap-on.

They were an attractive couple in their fifties; both tall and well dressed — her short wavy hair was striking; his stylish glasses and greying hair offered an air of a hipster who still had it. She was matter of fact with her questions about harnesses and dildo size and was very attentive as the young woman demonstrated how everything fit together. It was obvious the couple wasn’t upgrading but trying something for the first time. They would talk but it seemed he was deferring to her; not in a submissive way but rather as an observer. As we got involved in our own discussions about neon vibrators, we never saw them leave and not sure if they got what they came for. 

Later over martinis, as we waited for dinner, the discussion turned to speculation over our afternoon’s voyeurism. We wondered if they were an actual couple and if she wanted to peg him or maybe it was his idea. Maybe she was bi-curious and it was the first stage of a threesome fantasy and they would search out a unicorn as the idea bloomed — or maybe it was a professional arrangement and she was paying by the hour. I was quick to weave a story about her fucking a stranger they met at a party as her husband was getting his cock sucked; they all came together as a matter of course. Another story involved her lubing up her neon dildo and fucking her husband until he exploded with moans of pleasure. Maybe it was an outing to buy a birthday gift for a friend and she dragged her best guy friend along. We will never know.

As dinner came, our conversation moved to other topics and we enjoyed the evening fuelled by the sex life of someone else. I was a little surprised she never asked.

 W

Sand, surf and sex

I hadn’t noticed the discrete amateur photoshoot happening under the shade of a tree until Simone had pointed it out. I’d been transfixed on the waves, the hot sun and Simone’s gentle caresses on my arm. It took me a moment but once I saw her posing for the camera, I couldn’t look away. 

If she moves her hand away, would it reveal a perfectly trimmed pussy with lips slightly open, wet, and waiting for my cock? Shifting her other hand, and letting her arm fall to the side, would it show nipples that are erect and hard? A hand intertwined in her raven hair; pulling her head back exposing her neck to hungry kisses — would her inviting smile surrender to the moans of desire as her green eyes widen with my cock deep inside her?

We both stared until the man with the camera made her laugh one last time and then handed her a brightly coloured sarong. Once covered, she gathered up random articles on the sand and put them in a beach bag — he made her laugh once more and with bag and camera in hand, they made their way down the beach as if they were one. 

I settled back into the waves and the sun, and Simone resumed her gentle caresses — I soon lay back onto the warm sand and closed my eyes. I heard Simone do the same and she shifted into me to get comfortable. We listened to the surf until her whisper broke the trance.

“You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? I don’t hold it against you; part of me wanted to fuck her too”

I knew she wasn’t looking for a response and had more to say so I made a sound to acknowledge I was listening, rather than acknowledge I wanting to fuck the woman with the raven hair.

“You would be very disappointed based on what I saw. Those breasts of hers aren’t real, and even if they are, they aren’t as wonderful as mine which you know all too well are very real. That lovely pussy you saw is not nearly as wet as you image, and if you were to fuck her my love, she wouldn’t squirt over that cock of yours the way I do. And one last thought to consider.”

We both waited.

“When her boyfriend fucks her, she is quiet. Oh, she probably offers a moan or two but she’s by no means is a screamer — and I know how much you like me to scream your name as I take that cock of yours. Yes, you would definitely be disappointed.”

She fell silent, sat up and announced we should go swimming and then slapped me on the stomach. As I was shocked back into the bright sun she smiled and motioned me to follow her into the surf.

As I got to my feet all I could say to myself was,“What an ass. I can’t wait to listen to her scream my name”

 W