Erotic fantasy


My eyes rake the ceiling in idle and vain search  of cobweb or crack upon which to focus. From somewhere beside me, I hear you whisper huskily:

“You’re writing again, aren’t you?”

In truth, no. Not this time. This time I am concentrating on exhaling and regaining some composure. I say “some” intentionally, for “all” is simply a pipe dream at this point. In the space of — what, three hours? Four? — I have lost all semblance of reality, and my outer identity and sense of self have been shed like so many outer garments.

I need to remember this. Above all else, it intensifies that oh-so-fleeting moment, dissipating almost as soon as it comes into existence. A sweetly poignant memory to cherish when this bubble bursts; but one for which albeit briefly, I must burst that very bubble in order to claim.

As I drift off into the never-never land to which you succeed in transporting me, a tiny part of my brain holds back, clinging to the here and now by the skin of its metaphorical teeth, and making tiny notes in the margin of my consciousness. Barely perceptible yet spine-tingling kisses become a rhythmic stroking of my skin, in a manner precisely calculated to send delicious shivers through me.

The word “precise” sticks in my head: it’s such an appropriate word. Every move you make is precise. Accurate. Meticulous.

Your tongue glides across my skin, and I feel you breathing. With no external restraint, despite hankerings to the contrary, you have me enthralled and supine; expectantly frozen in place, barely moving a muscle — save those that move of their own volition. As you close in on your prey, encircling the final location, the delectable fever of anticipation grips me from within. I can barely breathe — I know what will happen, yet I cannot predict the form it will take.

And then it begins — more exact and on the mark than ever before. I gasp, and silently scream my bliss to the rising heavens. The meticulously detailed locale of your soft tongue inside me is of an accuracy hitherto unparallelled. If all this were not enough, you manage to indicate your own pleasure vocally, which just sends me over the edge. That tiny part of my brain loses its tenuous hold and joins the remainder of my grey matter in space, as I spiral ever upwards into sheer ecstasy.

This is an experience that I never want to consign to oblivion — and yet oblivion is the place towards which I feel myself headed.

You navigate your way around my body using your own as leverage, and I marvel at your care and attention to detail. My outpouring of pleasure is both metaphorical and literal — not to mention seemingly endless.

Yet that which truly astounds me is your own participation. There is no distance; admittedly, physical distance would be quite a feat at this stage, but mentally it would not be considered that unusual. However as I writhe in exquisite agony, whimpering with pleasure, you are there with me. I feel you. I sense you through every pore on my skin.

You are precisely where you wish, desire, and intend to be — I couldn’t ask for anything more.

******************************

Epilogue:

It’s been wonderful — thank you.

Fleshbotted, here.

Open the door. What do you see? Me. You see me.

Look at me. Go on, look.

See the glint in my eye? You know what that means.

See the curve of my hip, cocked, with my hand resting gently upon it.

As i stand. Waiting for you. Wordlessly inviting you.

Come on. Come to me.

Come and get me.

See the glimpse of my thigh, visible through the elegantly draped slit in my skirt. Imagine your hand running up it. Imagine your fingers trailing up it seductively… from my ankle, to behind my knee and then…

Onwards. Up my thigh, moving inwards, the skin growing warmer as you progress further.

I know you can see me.

I know you want me.

Take me. I’ve waited long enough.

Feel the softness of my lips against yours. Of my hand against your cheek. Of my breasts against your chest.

See how easily my blouse slips off my shoulders? Doesn’t my shoulder look inviting? A kiss, a nibble, a nip… a bite? No underwear… no markings… no problem.

Your hands and your mouth delight in the luscious fullness of my breasts; lush and golden with rosy-hued tips. You could drown in them… and die happy.

Stand behind me, you can do that without letting go. Keep one hand there, guarding your spoils. I won’t complain.

Use your other hand to explore further South… tickle that sensitive area around my navel… stroke the silkiness a little further below… and then you’ll find that silky soon becomes slick, plump and moist.

Don’t neglect the soft flesh into which your cock is pressing. Your naked cock. My accomodating ass. Your hard, throbbing cock. My warm, open ass.

You know what to do. You have free rein.

* * *

I’m losing the ability to instruct you.

Can’t… focus.

Ecstasy… taking over.

Mind… blurry….

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…

And there i am. With you.

A tableau of sensuality.

Flung over the back of the armchair, almost carelessly.

Abandoned and open to you.

Arms akimbo, clothes discarded.

You’ll take me every way you want me.

Every way you can.

Every way i want you to.

You know it’s what you want.

I keep thinking about you at inopportune moments, and getting wet. TMI? I don’t care. You should know about these things. You’re all the way over there across the other side of the world, and I’m here. The weather is getting hotter, and frankly — so am I. And i don’t see why i should have to go through this alone. In fact, a bit of sympathy arousal is what I’m after — at the very least.

So when my body is doing something mundane like shopping at the grocery store for a present for a long-unseen relative (flowers or chocolates, despite my offspring’s best efforts to convince me to buy them marshmallows, because they adore them), and i’m standing waiting patiently in line, my mind is off on flights of fancy, thinking about you, and me, and that date we have planned. What you’d see physically is the following.

You’d see me rifle through my purse for my credit card, simultaneously grab my two kids by the scruff of the neck and hold them down and still, converse amiably if vacantly with the person behind me that yes, it is a complete pain in the ass that the shop won’t sell us beer because of stupid fucking licensing laws, although to be honest it’s a wee bit early in the day for me for beer.

Mentally, it’s a different story. In my mind, i’m standing in front of you, as you hold me in your arms, and you kiss me, and i kiss you back, and i can feel your large, thick cock with its magnificent hard-on pushing into my thigh, and i can feel you grinding your hips against mine, and your hand in the small of my back pulling me closer than close and I feel your palm on my cheek as your lips explore my own and your breath on my cheek as our lips almost part and you whisper my name and my hand runs over your well-defined shoulder, and up your neck pulling your head closer to me and your hand gravitates from my cheek to my nipple and pinches it, eliciting a sigh and a wail of arousal from me and we kiss and our bodies fuck through our clothes, each feeling the passion of the other, as we lean against the wall, knowing that there is so much more to come.

Amazing how erotic the mental images are that can be conjured up while standing in the line at the grocery store.

Don’t you think?

It’s the voice.

The timbre, the resonance. The depth, the volume, the slight catch that betrays your hidden desire.

Or not so hidden, perhaps? I can’t see you right now, but if I could, my bet is that you’d have a boy scout troop tugging at your sleeve hopefully, while eyeing the crotch of your jeans.

(Yes, those really gorgeous, sexy, beat-up, old blue jeans that you like to wear. The ones that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Not too tight, not too loose, molding to your cute ass when you stood washing the wine glasses. And there was I, admiring the view and shivering internally at how i planned to run my hands over your ass at the earliest given opportunity.)

Either way, my ear presses hard against the phone, straining to catch every nuance, every sound. I love how deep and sexy your voice is as it rumbles into my ear. I love the way you smile as you say my name, and the shiver it sends down my spine.

Especially when you’re feeling calm and relaxed. The lazy way your honeyed tones flow out, saying my name, or merely whispering “Is that good, baby? You like that?” as you slide a finger in and out of me, deliberately and slowly.

Surrounded by stone clad jacuzzi walls, the echo caresses me. This time it’s all about you; your reaction to a foot massage. Clearly I’ve struck the right chord with you, as your sighs verge on the orgasmic. It must have been a hard couple of days, but now you’re relaxing your body, and the noises you are making reflect this.

But you know which vocal sound delights me the most. As I move my mouth up and down on you, my tongue lapping at you, my teeth tracing delicate and depraved patterns up and down your shaft, as my hand gently teases your balls. The joy and pleasure in your voice is the ultimate in sexy for me, when you moan and mumble incoherently. Then afterwards, when you kiss me tenderly, and move your mouth against my ear so that I can hear your sultry whisper as I feel your breath against my ear and neck, and all the hairs stand up all over my body with the rush of excitement that you cause me:

“Juno, oh my god… you do that even better than you write it.”

The following story is a contribution written by none other than Mr Henry himself. Enjoy.

Fleshbotted again.

Juno stood blindfolded with her arms mildly restrained behind her in soft rope and remained next to a mahogany-toned high back leather chair, wearing only high-heels and a wireless Swedish butterfly vibrator.

The arched French windows opened to provide an audacious view of Juno for astute members of the immediate neighborhood.

Standing no more than 25 feet away, I watched her squirm helplessly in front of her nude lover, enjoying her exquisite discomfort as I gently toyed with the remote control at irregular intervals. Wearing a grey suit, a blue shirt with button-down collar, and my well-worn Chelsea boots, I circled Juno, triggering the vibrator against her aroused clit, and catching her eye whenever I could.

The moods and objects throughout the room inevitably brought to mind that most resonant of adjectives: Lynchian – as in David Lynch. The spacious area was minimally lit, and propped against one wall was an Abstract Expressionist canvas.

I turned to her lover. “Dorian,” I said, “Would you like to stand close enough to Juno that she can feel your cock throbbing against her ass?”

He said nothing, but silently did just that.

She moaned. “This isn’t fair. At least untie my hands so I can stroke his gorgeous cock and fondle his balls.”

“Oh yes,” I said, “I know how much you would love to feel his dripping cock in your hand.”

I walked over to Dorian , and whispered discreetly in his ear. He knew exactly what I expected from him. I stepped away to watch, and disrobed as i did.

“Juno,” he said, standing directly against her rousing backside, and leaning into her. “I want my cock deep inside your pussy, fucking you, pumping you, stroking against your hot excited clit.”

Juno trembled visibly.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “Please, please untie my hands. Please take off my blindfold.”

Ignoring her, Dorian turned Juno around gently and caressed her large breasts. He squeezed her pale-chocolate nipples with two fingers from both hands. Juno gasped, and then swooned.

I moved closer to the couple, buzzed Juno’s vibrator, and handed her lover one of two small, adjustable nipple clamps. I fitted one, and he applied the other. Dorian moved his face so that it was very close to hers.

“I’m going to make you so hot, by playing with your nipples” he murmured, “as I fuck you, driving my cock into you, harder and harder, because I lust for you, lust for your pussy, lust for your ass … the ass I’m going to fuck, the ass I must fuck … because Henry is so jealous that anyone else might fuck your ass, and you do want to cuck him.”

“Yes,” Juno said … panting, biting at her lover’s lower lip, as he tugged lightly on her nipple clamps. “My darling Henry can’t stand the idea. Yet it makes him so very hot. We’ll do it. You know we will.”

“Oh yes,” said Dorian said, as his cocked throbbed from aching to be inside her. ” I know we will.”

Juno’s knees buckled with pleasure from the double buzz to her butterfly vibrator I administered from a few feet away.

Doran ‘s cock throbbed relentlessly. He led Juno to the oak dining room table, where he untied her hands and removed the vibrator from her waist.

“Sit on the edge of the table, and wrap your legs around my hips,” Dorian ordered Juno, not unkindly.

Juno gripped her nude lover, as instructed. His thick cock parted her labia naturally, and provoked an audible moan of approval.

My clothes remained on the floor by the couple after my earlier disrobing, and I masturbated single-mindedly.

“That’s right, pull me in closer,” Dorian directed. “Force my cock deeper inside your wet cunt. My cock will not cum until I have brought you off. I can fuck you endlessly, pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you, against your hot, sweaty thighs … pounding your cunt that I so want to fuck.”

He ceased fucking her, and led her promptly to the arm of the nearby leather couch. He bent her over without formality and inserted first one well-lubed finger in her ass … and then another.

Dorian reached over to my crumpled suit pants on the floor where he retrieved a small square package from the pocket.

This aroused me in a strange way: Juno’s lover using my condom to fuck the woman I adored.

“You know what’s next?” Dorian asked, fitting the condom snugly onto his swollen cock.

“Yes,” Juno answered almost dreamily.

“I’m going to fuck your ass in front of the man you love.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And you love the idea.”

“Yes. Please, fuck my ass. Right now. I want it badly.”

Dorian carefully worked his thick cock into Juno’s ass and fucked her slowly and gently. As he took her ass before my eyes, Juno had a heavenly look on her face.

I couldn’t possibly deny my love such pleasure. At the same time, I tugged gently on her nipple clamps as she flashed me a smile of purest complicity.