Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

Flights of Fancy

Dreams: Are they something we create in some uncharted section of our brain or is it another reality we are living. Is it possible that we live more than one life at the same time? Why do some dreams feel so real and others do no? Is it because one is reality and the other is just a misfiring synapse? Do YOU ever dream … of flying?

“There you are” the words that always greet me. He is sitting on a large bolder incongruently lodged on what looks like big, white, cotton candy clouds. There is no ground, no dirt or soil that I can tell, yet there are rocks, trees, flowers and other greenery. I feel a little disoriented but soon focus.  I’m not in Kansas anymore Toto …

I first notice his eyes. Dark brown with amber rings that gaze straight at my core. A thousand messages told in a look, a history, a partnership. He sees all of me. Then, I notice his wings. They are large, massive yet fluid and wrapped like a protective cloak around his lithe body. Difficult to tell the difference between our genders, yet I feel his distinctive masculine presence. His feathers are gold and silver with bright red tips as if the apex of every single feather was burning with the red flame of a mature fire.

I look down, a little startled, to see my own feathers wrapped around my long and slender figure. Bright magenta with teal tips, the rachis made of fine opal like keratin. A part of my brain is in awe and pleased at how beautiful they are. I flex and open them, several feet long and heavy, each wing is in length my own body’s height. A cold rush flows over my suddenly exposed, very nude and shockingly slender body. The wind is picking up as the light shifts a little towards dusk. Faster, cooler as if the northern airstream too wants to play.

My lover, for his gaze tells me he is, extends his hand out to me in invitation. I watch him, as his knees bend, his energy seemingly congregating in his center, the very tip of his wings, flutter and with a sudden expansion of wing span he jets off straight into the bright blue sky. Stunned I watch as he slows and then starts to circle like a Wandering Albatross. I hear him in my mind. “I am waiting love come and dance with me…” A large grin spreads across my face.

I bend my own knees, with the certainty of an action practiced a thousand times, I center my energy in my gut, flex my wings out, the tips taste the wind and reminiscent of a nuclear explosion I detonate towards the heavens. The cold air hits me like an ice bath, every cell on my skins surface tingles, the tears in my eyes are from both wind-chill and joy as a sense of absolute freedom overtakes my consciousness. I am delirious with glee and laugh with the abandon of a child at play. What seems like hours and only minutes is stopped as a warm hand startles me and pulls me. At first a little annoyed for the interruption, I realized that there is only so far I can go on my own. The rest of the heavens await, a world of infinite space, but it takes two for access. I am uncertain as to why, but I know this truth.

 Abandoning myself to the moment, my lover positions himself  below me and turning up facing me, his eyes fierce yet tender, he wraps his wings around us, as I fold my own, against my back. We do not plummet but hover at that altitude. The calm is so total it’s eerie. His warmth is akin to placing frost bitten fingers in warm water; wonderful yet painful all at once. I lose my ability to differentiate up from down. North, South, East or West all directions seem the same. The only center of focus is my lovers amber ringed eyes. I look deep into them. I sense his body closer; our skin is merging, as if literally becoming one. Moments pass and his mind and mine are joined in perfect harmony as are our palms, chests and pelvic region. A warm sensation tingles and the walls of my cunt press down and to my delight, the kegal movement reveals his presence inside me. There is no back and forth, no rocking, gyrating, no humping- nothing that base – yet the heat, vibration and intensity of the joining has me flushed. A sensation similar to orgasm is tickling every nerve ending.

His mouth, with full and tender lips, closes the last gap between us, for a moment we breathe each other in and out. It’s as if his member has spread like tentacles across my entire inner being, caressing the back of my kidney, spine, heart and nipples from within, moving around and pressing every erogenous zone from inside and outside my body simultaneously.

 We remain, palm to palm, pelvis to pelvis, his wings wrapping us in a glorious cocoon of feathers. I am drunk on the breath of him. His essence impregnating every molecule, I know not where he ends and I begin and as his mouth, deliciously closes on mine, the sweet and tender taste of his moist tongue flickering against the back of my teeth, I feel us shift. I kiss him in earnest, our lips never parting I throw myself at him, in him, one with the universe our energies meld. The sound of wings and blood surging resonates in my ears, my clit is gorged, my body trembling, and I hear his voice like a sweet love song, a serenade in my mind behind my eyes, in my internal ear. I echo it back and tears start to fall. Hurricanes have less intensity than the tsunami of orgasm that threatens to shred our very essence. Lips part and as we scream our pain and pleasure we shoot out and beyond the pale blue sky into the eternal darkness of space. For a moment we are like two satellites in a deadly tango above the white, blue and green world. We hover, just as the orgasm ends. I feel him shudder within.

His wings wrapped tightly so long open suddenly to fold behind his back. I open mine and wrap him then, holding him, cradling him and keeping us united as one. Our lips reconnect, we kiss softly and tender. My hands find his flesh and I caress him. His find my physical self and the intoxication of his touch spins my mind around again and again. In sweet denouement we slowly plummet back. I close my eyes and fall without fear. My heart lurches a moment as we pierce the white clouds in entry, and I cry as I hear him whisper in my mind “until next time my heart” …. He lets go.

The feeling of loneliness is so intense I scream. I awaken.

Looking  up I see brown eyes with amber rims looking at me; warm flesh and a heart beating beneath my palm. “There you are…” he says …I grin as I place my ear against his chest, listen to his heart beat and breathe in his human scent. He smells of sex.

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February 25, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Not the bedroom, Outdoors | , , , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Accidents Hap/pee/n

“STOP I’m going to pee my pants!” he doubled his efforts as she gasped for air between the laughter and moans. He loved her playful nature and tickling her was a favorite pass time. He knew not to abuse the game or it would lose its charm but every now and then, it just seemed like the right thing to do. This time she had been all warm and cuddly next to him on a lazy Sunday morning, her soft skin egging him on, and saying “Go on … you know you want to”. Yes, yes he did.

She had turned around and licked his nose like a puppy and then burst out laughing. That had been his Q. “Oh noooooooo!” was all she had managed to scream out in a giggly fit before he’d pounced on her, pinned her and let his fingers torture her. The neighbors must have thought they were gutting piglets with the squeals she let out.  He delighted in the sound of her abandon.  She was red, a smile so big on her face it was almost a grimace of pain. “Seriously stooooooooop”. He couldn’t – not this time.

Then suddenly she shoved him off, he stumbled, a little surprised at the forcefulness, as she jumped up… running to the bathroom… he followed.

She never made it to the toilet.

Flushing a deep scarlet red she stood there on the tiled floor of the white bathroom looking like she was ready to cry as a golden liquid pooled slowly at her feet like some expensive, honeyed, dessert wine.

He didn’t expect his immediate erection.

She was lovely in her distress. It had been so long since he’d seen her shy or embarrassed about anything with him and while he was rather fond of the comfort between them, he had missed this. A buzz of excitement hit his ears like a hornets’ nest. It paralyzed him a moment. Long enough to look at her, the red face, the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her hands twitched in her uncertainty of what to do. Then there was the rise of an eyebrow above an angry set of eyes. She was mad at him, embarrassed and yet she had not been able to avoid seeing his arousal.

She shivered and went to move to clean up.

“NO!” he shouted – sounding loud, dominating and arrogant; even to himself. 

She stopped … and trembled slightly.  He walked over grabbing a hand towel on the way, kneeling like a supplicant he cleaned up the wetness at her feet, along her ankles, thighs and then did the one thing she never saw coming.

With one hand he spread her tender nether lips apart and suckled.

Her clit was a little swollen; the taste and smell of urine invaded his nostrils. He moaned into her crotch.  She froze to a type of stillness that indicated real internal turmoil. He knew she thought of this as disgusting or at the very least unsanitary yet his, and now her own, arousal was sending her brain conflicting messages.  Because she didn’t know what to do – she chose to do nothing.

He slowly raised himself off the floor, possessively; hungrily he cocooned her in his arms. With his wet lips he kissed her. She tried to recoil but gave in. Breathlessly he picked her up, placed her on the edge of the vanity and rinsing the towel off with clean, clear water he proceeded to give her a sponge bath.

Between every wipe, he licked, caressed and tickled her. Soon her crimson flush turned from one of shame to excitement. She breathed in deeply after having held her breath so long, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned back on her elbows, spread her legs apart in a wide W and let him have his way with her.

He pulled her closer to the edge, and sitting on the toilet he played with her clit.  The ripe smell of the small cunt filled his head with a dizzying thrill as he drew his mouth close and kissed the moist lips and flicked his tongue deep inside.

He stabbed, twisted and rolled his tongue like a frantic snake until the pussy was crying excited juices.  Her body was throbbing with energy, lifting and shoving the mouthed cunt eagerly up to his buried head.  His tongue felt good.  It was scrubbing her inside with rapid strokes which hit in exactly the right places.  Her clit was about to explode, the walls of her steaming box were quivering with excitement, the pliable caress of the digging tongue sent her on to the very edge of orgasm.

She grabbed his hair, forcing him deeper into her crotch all her embarrassment long gone.  She felt his finger press, part and explore the fullness and heat of her vulva.  Then a sigh of relief escaped from her as she felt his digits dip and wiggle inside.

“Yes ….my love … yes, that’s it,” she whispered over and over.

She was ready. Without delay he stood up and grabbed her ass as he steadily plastered himself repeatedly in and out. 

“Oooh …” she sighed.

The flowing liquids foamed around his dick, the grate of his flared head inflamed further the tissues of her pussy as he slowly pulled up and almost all the way out over and over.  She was still young, hard, eager and willing; she took everything he could manage to shove inside her. His hips ground with animal abandon to the echoes of her gasps and moans.  They came furiously.  First him, a little early causing a struggle with the intense sensitivity of having her pump him further after he had emptied his load.  She finally threw her head far back, her toes curled and she screamed loudly filling the small bathroom with the sounds of her orgasm.

He relaxed between her legs a moment and reveled in the sweet embrace of her thighs.  The frantic nature of their fucking eased off and he slowly worked his cock in and out of the cream-smeared pussy until the hardness started to die away.  Then he withdrew it and heard her moan with disappointment.

“Can I clean up NOW?” she asked eyes full of mischief.

February 20, 2010 Posted by | Lust | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Let’s Play…

Many moons ago, one of my readers asked me what she could do for “fun” with her long distance boyfriend. I suggested writing an erotic story back and forth between them – using e-mail or even texting. I wrote this to illustrate. The story flips from my perspective to his (thank you for  playing).

The real fun in this activity is the utter surprise … where will the story go?!

Hope you enjoy the process as much as I did and perhaps feel inspired to do the same. Let me know! and maybe share!

(The idea came from the collaboration between two of my favorite writers/bloggers you can read that here)

***

Enjoying the first beautiful days of summer we walked the streets for some outdoor cafe to sit at and have some lunch.

I am potentially over dressed. Then again, I am of the firm belief that a woman can never be too classy. There’s just no excuse for bad taste and no way out of the predicament, so you are best not to ever go there. Know exactly how dressed up, or dressed funky, you can get away with at any given time.

I push the limits. I am a bad girl that way. Panties are oft forgotten. He likes me accessible. If panties are worn, they are most likely thongs and announced to friends at completely inappropriate times – it‘s my one gauche habit. I just don’t go quietly, but He knows that and loves the challenge.

Leaning over towards me at the tiny table we occupy along the street, His hand goes up my thigh hidden only by my pencil skirt and table-cloth, reaches my intimate self and lets his fingers play along my glossy engorged slit. I might drown him, and I try to effortlessly spread my thighs to give him better access. He grinds his palm against my clit, his fingers finding their way through my folds and into my body. I lean my head back in pre-orgasmic lust.

He motions with his head to have me go down. I descend under the table to suckle and gorge on my pre-lunch delight.

*

I could hear the nearby diners gasp, just as I did, when my beloved’s lips wrapped around my shaft. She’d unzipped me and told me in no uncertain terms that she was going to suck me – and I had no doubt she meant it. There was the sound of her slurping, my moans and the waitress stuttering as she took the adjacent table’s order. I only vaguely heard it all as I treasured the way my love took me deeply, using her tongue expertly on the underside of my cock and tickling my balls with it when my shaft head reached the back of her throat. We fit so perfectly. I knew … we both knew… I wouldn’t last long.

An attractive couple at the next table could not take their eyes off us and were obviously pleased with our antics. I lifted the table-cloth carefully to give them, and only them, a better view. My fingers in her hair, I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of her hands cradling my balls. My toes curled in my shoes and I gritted my teeth, while she sucked me in a final time.

Our neighboring diners sat up in their chairs, as if they had orgasms themselves, and they spoke to each other in hushed voices. I looked at them and acknowledged their reactions; approval or disapproval depending on the individual. It was fascinating to see who was in fact offended and who was not. Not to mention those with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, that feigned disapproval out of fear of judgment.

No one had actually “seen” anything and for all they knew it was just an act for some hidden camera; but as she cleaned me up, I took my wallet from my coat pocket and called for the waitress to settle the bill. She came quickly, without making eye contact.

My beloved took her seat, and another sip of her wine, I paid the bill before standing to leave. I should have put away my cock first, but I forgot and a few shocked faces told me they had gotten a good look at my glistening shaft before I finally tucked it away. Now we really did have to leave.

Where should we go for dessert?

*

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see the attractive blond and her equally blond partner looking at me a question on her lips. His arm encircled my waist in a protective manner, but still relaxed, Just setting boundaries. I giggle internally. Precious man had nothing to worry about and he knew it. He just wanted others to know it as well.

A surprisingly sultry voice emanated from the petite blonds lips as she asked us if we’d care to join them for a drink and perhaps some sweets at their place not to too far. I turn to my man, a grin on my face and an eyebrow raised in askance but leaving the decision up to him. He’d talked about this more than once – the opportunity was ideal. The couple was attractive and eager and my mood was naughty very, very naughty. Was He all talk?

His hand slid from my waist to below my skirt and squeezed my ass …. He leaned into my ear and whispered:

*

…. Let’s play.

She needed no greater invitation and accepted the offer for both of us. I always knew that given the right opportunity, and mood, our fantasy would come to fruition. I immediately began to wonder what we would do, what our new friends would like to share with us. I wondered what this woman, whose name I soon learned was Helene, would taste like and if she was hairless like my love. I felt a new stir in my loins. I wondered how much my beloved would enjoy the look on my face as I watched another man enter her from behind. Of course, for all I knew, this couple only wanted to return the favor and let us watch them together. The possibilities were endless, and the short five-minute walk to their loft seemed to take an hour.

By the time we reached their front step, my cock was standing at attention once again. As we were about to walk in the door, I stopped and pulled my love to me. “No turning back from here. Are you sure?” I needn’t have asked of course. She playfully squeezed my member through my pants, and led me inside, “I’m still hungry… ”

*
The door opened and the rather quiet couple led us inside. It was a modern, minimalist space. Everything was bare with the exception of an overlarge black and white, erotic photograph adorning only the far wall. All the furniture was white. In fact everything was white. The space would have felt clinical if it wasn’t for the impressive and welcoming centerpiece.

In the middle of the room was a massive, circular, sunken in couch. I wasn’t sure if it was a couch or bed. We soon found out that the rich velour, in shades of heather grey, was both. Sven and Helene poured us some drinks and we settled. There was really nothing to talk about; chit chat was not our reason d’être in their intimate space.

Still – I waited for our hosts to lead. Not certain of what they actually had in mind. In boredom, His hand was slowly gliding up my thigh, I was still wet and the tedium of the uncertainty of our hosts was starting to grate. I leaned over and straddle Him. He smiled up at me and slowly raised my skirt knowing this would afford our hosts a view of my ass, thong and in time, his erect penis. He hoped the visual would inspire action.

I heard a hiss of approval from behind yet was still startled when I felt a strong hand cupping a breast and a foreign set of lips on the back of my neck. Brushing my hair out of the way, I looked over my right shoulder and saw Helene on the other end of the “couch”, her legs parted, and her hand between her thighs enjoying the view of the ménage a trois before her. I motioned for her to come closer and she shuffled until she was in arms reach of Him. I looked at Him lovingly, as I felt the hands of a stranger unbutton and pull off my top, my eyes never looking away from His.

His cock was straining making Him uncomfortable, so I reach down to unzip him and let his member go free. His one hand on my free breast still cupped in my black lace bras and the other hand down the white skimpy cotton boy shorts of Helene. He seemed quite happy with his lot.

*

It never ceased to amaze me the abandon she could display. Her curvaceous body soft in all the right places was a sight. I watched Sven unclasp her bra, and as the black lace was scattered her glorious mounds revealed themselves to me. I watched with some envy, his callused hands touch them – eagerly plying the soft flesh. Her eyes closed.

I was grateful for Sven’s total silence. It allowed me to think of him as an accessory and not a real person kissing my beloveds neck and touching her so intimately. Helene was another matter. Her soft and voluptuous moans were like a sexy soundtrack in the background and I stole a look at her.

She was petite in every way and her tiny frame looked fragile in her nudity and enjoyment. The play of my fingers somehow made her seem vulnerable. Flat chested and a little skinny she had a fire in her that belied her small stature. Yet, there was emptiness there in her eyes that also frightened me a little. In fact there was something empty about Sven too as if he was acting and not really fully present. This play was filling a void for these two and the thought of that made me almost lose my erection as a wave of pity threatened to take over.

*

I saw a shift in Him. He was over thinking this and I jerked his member up a little too hard. His eyes snapped back to mine. I grinned. He grinned back. I wasn’t going to let Him fuck up this opportunity with His tendency to over analyze everything. I needed Him to join me in living in this moment.

Sven’s hands were magic and yet I was only vaguely aware of him. I gave him the same amount of attention I would a vibrator on my bed. I could hear Helene’s sounds of sweet pleasure and it reminded me of having a porno on the TV in the background. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that I wanted – was Him.

I lifted my ass up only enough to pull away the fabric of my thong to the side. Lowering down to impale myself, I hovered for a few exquisite moments letting the heat of my cunt tease Him. His head leaned back and I saw Him enjoy in his mind first, what his body knew was about to happened. His member stirred and using his pelvic muscles, his cock reached up a little more tickling the entry of my pussy. It was too much. I sat in his lap, taking him in.

*
The feeling of her cunt stretching to take all of me, the warm heat surrounding my cock in the moist and powerful recesses of her womb was a feeling I was totally and utterly addicted too. It was the one place I could lose myself in totality.

I felt the rise and drop of her hips on mine and for a moment I held my breath afraid I would come too soon. Luckily, my attention was diverted to Helene moving in towards my beloved, raising herself on her knees on the couch next to her and kissing her with passion and viciously pinching her own nipples. She then went to kiss Sven and back to my dearest … back and forth.

Feeling too much like an observer, my hand slid back between Helene’s thighs and found her engorged and slick clit. She wiggled her tiny ass in pleasure as I continued to finger her with one thumb inside the entrance of her cunt and the other four making a come-hither motion teasing her poor pearl. She moaned her ecstasy into my beloved’s mouth.

*
I was hazily aware of Sven’s body behind me, of a woman’s lips on mine of hands on my breast and painful tugs at my nipples, of a hard member making its way between my ass.  I was lost in a sea of touch, smell and sound. In sweet torment my body rose and fell with the ebb and flow of my dance partners.

*

I sensed Sven trying to part my knees in order to make his claim on the soft curves of my love’s gloriously round and perky derriere. I read her body language and knew that she was far gone in her pleasure and would be willing. I parted my knees enough to give him access without him ejecting me. No. That was my prize and mine alone and he would never lay claim there. In that way she was mine; only mine.

With the aid of lubrication, he slid inside her, tentative and a little clumsy but soon found a rhythm that allowed him to penetrate her, without ruining her rhythm of pleasing me. And so, long languid minutes of pleasure began for us all.

Surprisingly Helene was the first to come. She did so gloriously all over my fingers. Her back flushed prettily with waves of crimson as she locked lips with my Love for support and her hand found Sven’s and squeezed it possessively. Sven followed moments later making the first real sound that evening as he jerked upward and released himself into the condom inside my beloved’s ass.

*

I was under attack. My body assaulted with pleasure in every way. My mouth was full of tongue and luscious lips; my gut filled with a tentative but relentless thrust and my cunt was filled gloriously by Him. I opened my eyes and found His. Our love was nothing to be toyed with and my heart gave way as I saw Him there, loving me. I felt myself cross the threshold then.

I felt and heard our play mates come. Sven’s hand gripped at my chest and right then I mouthed “Come with me” to Him. With that, I sat down harshly in his lap forcing him to fill me to the deepest and darkest recesses of my inner self. His jism hit the walls and flooded me as the Tsunami of torrential orgasmic force rocked though my body.

We collapsed.

***

Months passed before we returned to the restaurant, not thinking about our adventure until we saw Helene and Sven sitting at the little table for two in the corner. We nodded in greeting and Helene flashed us a large, happy smile as Sven blushed furiously.

Moments later her tiny frame and sensual perfume filled our space. Helen’s blond hair hung carelessly in her face and she brushed bread crumbs off her tweed pants. She handed us a postcard size invitation and said: “Hope you can make it” in a voice oozing with promise, before pushing Sven out the door, into the cold before her.

*

I grabbed the invitation out of His hands curious to see what it said. It didn’t hold much information other than a date, time and place. I was intrigued and presented it to Him to read. What could this be? Another rendezvous?

*

I looked at the information displayed in the center of a large, heather grey dot in the middle of a pure white postcard. I smiled at the mirroring of the quiet couple’s intimate space. I couldn’t help but wonder what had come first, the living space or the logo?

I looked up at my love an eyebrow raised. Did she want to go? Her smile told me all I needed to know. It seems she was still hungry.

*

Two evenings later found us standing in front of the address wondering if we had it wrong. We double checked our card and confirmed with a passerby. This was it. Not wanting to stand out in the snow much longer, I grabbed His hand and went inside, drawn by the faces of all the “pretty people” and the sound of laughter and the notes of soft blues.

As we walked in we were handed a glass of champagne each, while a young and pretty thing took our coats. My eyes were wide with wonder at the work displayed in the art gallery. The most beautiful erotic scenes unveiled before me. Photographs I could get lost in for hours given half a chance. They were marvels of photography. The details vivid enough to make even the most adventurous amongst us blush.

His hand squeezed mine and I looked at Him to find Him pointing in a direction with an upward nod of His chin. I looked up and saw the focal point of the room and masterpiece of the collection.

On the only wall with color, that same heather grey in an otherwise sea of white washed walls was a massive nine by eight foot photograph.

I almost dropped my glass. 

The room went silent in my head.

All I heard was a sultry voice say:

“I hope you don’t mind”.

 

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

February 14, 2010 Posted by | anal, Beauty, erotica, Voyeur | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

“What are you doing missy?”

He stood there, his unruly hair kept off his face with a Buff, his lean and muscular upper body exposed looking very much like one of his own studies in human anatomy. She licked her lips and shivered a little as she squeezed her vaginal walls together.

She sighed again.

He had only recently started tapping into his artistic side; long dormant in pursuit of a noble career. Meeting her had changed a few things in his life, including this awakening to art. She wondered who was really more surprised at this development. Likely she was. The first time she had glanced at a charcoal sketch of his her breath had caught in her throat. A sense of pride had filled her as she realised that his artistic inclination wasn’t just something to do as a hobby but, something he was actually gifted enough to do in earnest. He was still and always cautious and couldn’t quite believe himself an artist, but his spirit had already changed. His hair had grown a little, he no longer wore the “full suit’ to the office 5 days a week and she noticed that he had started shaving only every other day. He wasn’t slovenly – that he would never become, but there was a relaxation within him she was pleased to witness. It balanced him off nicely. His own trinity: the athlete, the executive and the artist.

They had talked of learning how to dance the Argentinean Tango. He had mentioned wanting to learn how to play classical guitar. They had started a blog together to talk about living well and healthy lives. But it was painting that had in fact manifested itself fully. It was painting that had tapped into his emotional, creative and spiritual being. She used words to paint an image, he used oils and acrylics.

She watched him now; his fingers full of gooey paint, his knife being brandished like a knight’s sword or surgeon’s scalpel on his canvas. The thick paint was changing colors, taking on contours and shadows. The textures changing from smooth ridges to hard edges depending on the mood. The focus was always the human form, more often than not the female soft curves over took the massive canvas. He painted larger than life, bold and vibrant, a crazy cross between art deco and comic strips. His was a wonderfully strange and modern vision.

She was almost jealous of the way he focused on his art. He disappeared inside his creative bubble almost oblivious to her, the loft, and the music in the air with its slightly tribal beat.

She licked her lips again.

Closing her eyes, she let her hand disappear in her lace panties. Tasting the paint on her lips she melded into the canvas in his mind. Unnervingly she felt them, his strong and powerful hands not just caressing her body, but molding it to his pleasing. His hand rushing up her thigh, the knife slicing away another inch off her hips and his fingers gently adding it back. Her shoulder raised, her breasts protruding outwards, his fingers smudging her nipple, the blade bringing it back – hard, harsh then fingers smoothing it out … feminine.

His breath on her canvas skin shivering. Her abs one moment smooth the next more athletic, then some wonderful place in-between. She was his vision being born out of her own flesh. She was his desire burning, growing inside her own belly. Slow and reverently, fingers between her thighs. Darkness there. Mystery. A brush, a sweep … her clit gorged and proud begging, asking for more attention ….large sweeping fingers, paint filling holes, her body arching to meet his touch, the multicolored lubricant letting his hands sweep and fall in all the correct nooks and crannies. She moans. The thick wooden handle of the knife slips against her cunt; there it wants to disappear in the darkness. It slows, it halts. Then harshly up it spreads her apart – to discover an internal canvas a new blank space to discover to fill. She aches for his warmth, his touch and he fills her , a hot aching need to be alive and explodes with a white flash to paint the inside of her.

A sensual voice floats to her ears …. “What are you doing missy?”

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

February 4, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Jerk Off

I wrote this for a friend in 35 minutes (well ok – 38 min.) for … obvious reasons. I leave it with you in its raw un-edited state. Please let me know your thoughts.  I rarely write this fast or with a “purpose”.

***

Miles. That’s the distance between them. In fact opposite ends of the planet. They couldn’t have been further apart from each other if they had tried. Distance is a tricky thing when it comes to matters of the heart. The longing and thus constant obsession can keep the feelings of fresh love alive longer, but the loneliness if not managed properly can shred the intimacy to pieces, leaving you hanging on to something that no longer resembles the close bond between a couple.

Time is finite for them. She goes to bed when he wakes up, and he slows down at the end of the day when she awakens fresh from her dreams ready to take on the world. The difference in their energy level always their greatest challenge of all. He’s always the next day from hers, living tomorrow before she does. For them it’s no longer about day and night. They have become citizens of the dawn and dusk.

Sunrise and sunset are the colors that shade their love life. Warm and welcoming and yet fleeting.

Sitting in front of her tiny screen she sees him. They barely talk anymore she realizes. Every encounter and every e-mail exchange is about sex and the banal pursuit of orgasm. The relationship reduced to fleeting moments of erotic exchange. He’s naked already, his hand wrapped around his cock. Hard and eager. His eyes glistering with the lust and anticipation of the feast ahead. She’s horny that’s for sure. His hard athletic body does that to her. She starts to strip nice and slow. Showing first some shoulder, then some chest. Her breast are capped by full and luscious nipples made for sucking, she pinches them in his absence. His hand goes up and down harder. “Your hot princess” he says.

Grabbing her red dildo out of the drawer next to her, she places it between her tits. She moves it up and down. On the other end she hears a sharp in-take that matches the nod of his head in approval. She knows he wishes it was him. She’s pleased … yet ….

Standing, she bends over, presenting him with her ass. Wiggles her panties off and tries to give him a close-up of her shaved intimate parts. The camera is so small, it’s awkward but she finds the right height and angle and holds herself steady for a while. He’s breathing heavy now. She knows he’s close. She turns around leans into the camera and opens her mouth. He leans over and jerks off until he comes in his hand. Her eyes feast on the beauty of him, his member and the memory of his body wrapped around hers and the smell of him intoxicates her mind. She’s thrilled with the effect she has on him and confused with the one he has on her.

“I got to run” he says, and switches off. She’s left forlorn without release of her own. Sitting on the side of her bed, a sense of isolation engulfs her fully. She let’s her hand wonder to between her thighs and laying down she fills the void with a moment of pleasure, her clit is bulging with blood.

Flushed, she rests a moment prior to walking to the bathroom sink where she cleans the toys before getting ready for work. As she looks in the mirror she starts to cry. She’s worth more than this. Holding the edge of the sink, she takes a determined breath.

Long gone are the hours of conversation on the phone, the e-mails filled with romance that thrilled her once… “I feel dirty” she whispers to no one in particular. She stares again a long time at her own eyes reflected in the mirror. They seem big, sad and tired. She straightens her shoulders, takes a long shuddering breath once again and walks to her laptop. She goes to the sites they use and blocks his e-mail. She deletes her account from a number of online venues. She goes and types a short message, then blocks his e-mail and deletes it from her address list. Somehow filled with a sense of freedom she continues her toilettage and leaves her house.

A smile spreads tentatively across her lips as she makes her way through her daily commute. His hold on her is gone. She’s already been missing him achingly for months. It wasn’t the physical presence she had been missing, it was him – what he was to her, what he made her feel and the deep affection she felt for a kindred spirit. They had spent time once, talking about things – anything – what they had died a long time ago when the conversation and real exchange stopped. She still harbors a need to shout at him “I’m not your whore” … but realizes that’s not accurate. She’s not paid after all. No. She’s done being the “live play thing” of his jerk off sessions.

A deep satisfactory laugh escapes her, strangers stare. She can see him reading her final message, the words float in her minds eye: It’s over.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

 

December 28, 2009 Posted by | erotica | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments

The Salon – Challenge II

“Let’s get together some time! Call me!” How often have we said or heard this and not followed through? With that in mind this is my new challenge!! Ah yes … I know you’ve all been sitting on the edge of your seats waiting impatiently for this since the last one. *chuckle*

I want you to imagine a Salon. Like in the olden days when people of great intellect and talent would congregate in some famous location to exchange ideas and feel inspired or while away time during writers block or a Muses vacation. In this case I am the lady, Duchess, in question. I am the patron, the great mind and talent collector. Oh come on … it’s my challenge!

Duchess Fantasia de Lillith invites you to Le Manoire to share …. Share what? Ahhhh yes, good question. Good question indeed!!

Imagine we are all lavishly costumed (period of your choice – time and space play no part here!) and we are discussing … ah… Oh, you will have to wait and read the intro I wrote below to get the ball rolling.

How is this a challenge?:

On October 10th, 2009 (10/10/09) I shall post all your entries for the Salon Conversation – my only interference will be in connecting your words to create a fluid story line. They will be entered in the order they are received. Talk about collaboration!

Here are the rules:

– Describe yourself (like an avatar) and your perception of your surroundings.
– The “voice ” is that of talking to me and/or other equals in the room!
– Feel free to add some internal monologue if needed.
– No vanilla! Off the edge, outside your comfort zone.
– More than 200 words – less than 400. I will use a word count so don’t disqualify yourself!
– Entries must be received by October 8th, 2009 (10/08/09). I appreciate if you let me know in advance that you are planning to enter the challenge so that I may start creating the poll. Send to fantasia.lillith@gmail.com .

What’s in it for me?:

Awe come on!!! Really? Alright… fine. Besides the opportunity to shed light on your darker side, as patron of your art I shall grant you a PRIZE!! I will personally donate to your charity of choice (must be registered) the $ amount equal to the highest number of hits for a single day over the two week period the challenge will be live on my site. This could be a substantial donation!

How do I win?:

Competitive much? Jeeez!! I did not want to be the judge, just in case there might be some conflict of interest (I know some of you personally now!!) So I came up with this formula;

The largest amount of comments posted regarding your fantasy + the number of votes for you (via poll) = A number

… the story with the highest number wins. Simple. Yes, people have to comment AND vote!! Ooooh …. Think you can rally your troops? If this works – there may be more than one Salon!

So … without further ado (I do SO love that word) allow me to set the stage:

*****

Leaning against the massive, ornately carved, marble fireplace; I carefully sipped from the small crystal glass a sweet elixir of unknown origin left to me by one of my many past suitors. Its flavor was exquisite and every time I had a glass I felt as if years had been lifted from me. A feeling that turned out to be real and long lasting. I sipped it carefully not wanting to overdo it and give away the secret to my agelessness.

I reveled in my young body. The corset I had on made my bosom heave most seductively, the men, and some women, in the room could only stare with intense desire. The deep teal and emerald chinoiserie of my satin kimono swished in a series of tiny claps and whispers and I turned to face the large, yet welcoming room, exposing my legs and bare feet as I flopped gracefully onto the chaise longue of my Salon.

A handsome young lad, in livery of the same hues, took my now empty glass and I petted his firm ass as he left causing the most pleasing blush to color his cheeks. I sighed. I’d have to replace him soon as he got used to me having my way with him. His charm was in his not quite submissive shyness. I was sure I’d find a fine home for him among my Ladies. Oh that lovely discomfort was all too ephemeral.

A young and voluptuous middle eastern girl settled behind me and started to coif my long and unruly curls into an intricate “do” for that evening’s gala. Her soft and supple fingers never pulled a hair, and the scent of jasmine and her warm body made her delectable. My shoulders now exposed, I relaxed… Ah yes, this one I’d keep in my service a long time.

A few regulars, that liked to stay at Le Manoire, were already assembled before me. Soon others would join. An air of debauchery hung between us from last night’s foray, most of my guests still languid and at ease. I tossed a subject out for today’s discussion:

“I have this fantasy” … All heads snapped up, eyes glistening and ears eager to hear more.
“One I have not heard, Duchess?” says my consort as he brushes his hand lovingly across the full expanse of my bosom and leans in to kiss the beauty mark on my right breast.
“Yes, even you don’t know this one …. Awww love… don’t look so hurt… allow me some air of mystery”. A snort or two emanate from our guests. It is my turn to blush.

“As I was saying ….” I continue with a coy smile and a raised eyebrow … I have this fantasy”. I stop, suddenly a little unsure, take a deep shuddering breath, showing a rare glimpse of the vulnerable side of me.

“ I am in a large box. A very large box, almost like a small room. All around me are holes. Poking out of the holes are penises of every size and race. Wrapped around them are gems, or money in form of …. Payment …..” The silence in the room shows the shock some are feeling. The idea of The Duchess as a paid whore doesn’t sit well with some. My consort’s hand steadies on my shoulder. I kiss his palm before continuing.

“I take the payments … or … offerings … and suck” I place my consort’s finger in my mouth and demonstrate. His breath hisses audibly across the room “ … suck so much cock and end up covered in cum from head to toe. They can see me and what I am doing on a small screen outside the box, but they remain anonymous to me. I only know them as an endless sea of shafts.” I spread my legs gracefully to show that just talking about this has made me so moist, that a small trail is glistening on my inner thigh and has wetted my satin under garment. I sit up. Then suddenly stand up flustered.

“How is it that we can fantasize about those things that would, in reality, actually turn our stomachs? Things we would never, no matter how free we are in our sexual selves, actually do. Things that are in direct violation with who we are and our moral code? Do any of you have such fantasies? Am I … alone in this?”

I close my eyes, and walk back to the fireplace waiting for the heavy silence to be broken by a brave soul willing to share…. It lingers, like the elephant in the room, as my guests grapple a moment with their darker side. I sigh and wait.

September 17, 2009 Posted by | erotica, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 36 Comments

Woven threads of our Sunday

A shared moment and thought – un-edited – not a story. A glimpse into the life of ….

Sunrise on Sunday morning…

Some love it for the guarantee of brunch, the paper and coffee in bed, for time with friends and family, or for the slow and easy pace the world seems to take on that second weekend day.

Some see it as the end of the week, I prefer it as the first day of mine. For me it is the promise of hours of slow, sweet fucking, and the launching of my soul to depart and float forward and mingle with his, that makes Sunday my “it” day.

You’ll find the phone off the hook, the “do not disturb” sign on the door and us laying entwined, sweat glistening off our bodies and my hand reaching down for his still hard cock.

Slowly and methodically I will stroke him, pressure building towards the head. Leaning over I will whisper secrets in his ear. Of those, only he is allowed to sit in judgment. He will smile, moan, and respond to every inch of me and me to every centimeter of him.

He and I will come and come again all day. As we loose track of time between the sheets, down the hall, on the kitchen counter and back again. We will eat with, on and from each other. Laugh, giggle, sigh, bathe and speak. The world can go to hell in a hand basket, we are nesting in our own heavenly bubble.

We pray at each others altars, connect and rejoice. A week of “I don’t have time” and “yeah hold on” has finished. We start anew – connect; find each other again, charge our emotional batteries. Sure a quickie will occur on other days, and yes we will make love certainly … but the slow, all day in bed fucking, that is our lazy us time makes Sunday our relationship nuclear power plant.

We will re-etch our scents, the lines of our bodies, sounds, smells and dreams onto our hearts and minds. Trade new secrets and old, share fresh fears and battle ancient demons. All the while our hands will wonder, our nakedness will unite us and our backs will arch as we come, bathing us in glistening nectar.

In the end I will feel my soul come back to me as we lie together in the moonlight wrapped in a blanket of the woven threads of our Sunday.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

September 12, 2009 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, romance, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 39 Comments

Under the Willow Tree

It cleared. After weeks of rain the sun had finally come out and everyone was taking advantage of it. Every patio was filled to capacity, every dog was being walked, every boater was sailing … every cyclist was biking.

We went for a hike followed by a bike ride, then stopped for lunch and snagged a spot on a patio. Pure luck was on our side when we managed to get the last two scoops of maple chocolate ice cream. The day was perfect.

We cycled home slowly. Full from our food and a little saddle sore from the day. Deciding to stretch things out a little we took a final walk in the park. The sun was going down and a sudden cloud cover came in. Fast. It was dark and threatening but we felt no fear.

We should have. The electricity in the air made the little hairs on our arms stand at attention. Moments later the sky’s opened and the deluge came down upon us. I was giddy and drunk on love and the sun of the day. Still sweaty from the activities, I twirled and danced under the rain.

We found ourselves alone … you stared at me enjoying my playful childlike behavior. I flashed my panties at you as I twirled around and ran away playfully screaming “catch me if you can!!”

I went under the willow tree.

There I pulled off my undies and spring loaded them between my fingers and with a Woosh and Thwang they hit you in the face square between the eyes. You growled and ran to me. I turned and stopped you in your pursuit by revealing my ass to you.

Stunned you froze in your tracks. Reverently you approached me and got on your knees to bury your nose inside.

Drip drip drip the drops fells around us and on us as the curtain of rain continued.

You stood and pulled out your member. Tried to slide it in but couldn’t get the angle right. Too high, too low. You grumbled in frustration, I snorted most un-lady like and tried to help. Finally you turned me around, picked me up in your arms, and kissing me with the same intensity as the storm you laid me down on the grass. The soil was a soft mattress under me. You took me then in simple missionary style.

The deep scent of the earth in my nose, the rain a cascade of sound around us … I lost myself in you and your desire. The water cooling my body, your heat keeping me pinned. We embraced life in the ecstasy of living freely and in the moment; the joy a long and rich vibration that reached deep inside only to explode and blanket us in warm and flushed flesh.

You collapsed as I came and you held me.

Then…

Sniff sniff snifffff ….. *woof?*

Oh shit ….

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

August 31, 2009 Posted by | erotica, Outdoors, Sensual, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Nothing

I am not certain how it all came to an end.

… and perhaps that is not entirely true.

Perhaps I always knew it would.

Our story had been one of so many layers and passions. The stuff that movies are made of. Some clichés and some unique to us. All of it wrapped up in a wonderful sense of having found that lost soul mate. The one. That elusive other half.

It had started a year ago. I had been at the office and flirting outrageously with a colleague of mine and a little flustered from it all. I had returned to my desk to try and get some work done between cheeky e-mails and visits to his cubicle, when I heard the most lovely voice. I stood up and peered above the partition to see where it was coming from… this lovely lilt between English and French.

At first all I saw was glorious hair. Dark, black, lazy curls, white hairs giving it that suave and debonair feel so many find charming, including myself. He was talking to that colleague I had been flirting with so I invited myself over. As I approached he left, almost walking into me. Damn he smelled good. He excused himself with a light laugh and sauntered off. I sat myself down in my colleague’s spare chair and said “Who the fuck was that?”. He laughed nervously. Teetering between having fun with my obvious interest and feeling – what seemed to be – suddenly threatened. I didn’t care. I wanted answers.

Turns out we did a lot of the same things. Worked out at the same gym, had tea at the same coffee house and enjoyed the same events. After my colleague introduced us I had a reason to approach him. We spoke…. and spoke… and spoke. It was as if everyone else became inconsequential. It was like a thousand conversations that had been secretly dormant awoke at last with the sound of his voice and interest – finally I had a person to hear and so it gushed. We would talk about everything and nothing. More often something. Politics, art, work, health and nutrition and of our anxieties and dreams. We laughed, we got animated and passionate. We lost track of time to our employers’ annoyance.

People started talking but we didn’t care. After all “nothing” was going on between us.

Then one sunny day, when I was off but he had to work, I surprised him with a picnic. “Oh come on … you have to eat!“ I had said. He’d agreed as long as we did keep an eye on the time. That day everything changed. I stopped being the hunter and just inexplicably allowed myself to just … be. I opened up to him like a desert flower to sudden rain. He fell in love.

We fought it. Our situation was one that did not bode well for us. But the genuine affection, immense compatibility and simple joy we had in being in each others presence had been too much for us to resist. We succumbed and fell further and further. Months of hiding, whispering, teasing and intense love making. Moments of heady delight followed by deep sorrow. An emotional rollercoaster that drove us to insanity and fed our need to feel alive.

For a time we soared above it all. With the bright promise of a better future and then – the day it all crashed. The day he went back to her. Her depression a more binding set of chains than our love could free him from. He had to care for her… that day he gave up on life and chose death. That day his misplaced loyalty made him choose an existence of silent misery. That day I stopped respecting him. That day my heart broke forever.

Now here we are

… face to face.

For the last time.

I sit on the bed uncertain – a first in your presence. I am not sure why I am here. I am not sure why I agreed to this. The pain in my chest so intense I am convinced that you can see my heart actually bleeding there, leaving a pool of red hot blood at your feet. I feel like a sacrifice.

You are awkward but somehow determined to have this “farewell love making”. Your hand reaches out and caresses my face. I sob at the feelings that surge forward. I hold that hand in place. Not wanting to let go yet hating it at the same time, remembering how much joy that gesture had provided only days ago. Your fingers wash away my tears. Your own eyes shedding their fair share.

You hold me then, tightly to you. I pound my fist angrily over and over leaving a bruise above your heart. You let me. You deserve it. I cry out your name in a lament, I kiss you, bite your lip so hard it bleeds. You take it. I pull your t-shirt off above your shoulders. I look at this body I have come to love and adore. My heart shatters anew as I realize that I shall never touch it, caress it and have it’s weight crush my breasts again.

I pull off my own blouse. You reach for me. Pull me towards you. You whisper in my ear words I do not whish to hear. No… I will not forgive you. Not now. Not now. Your caress is familiar and my body responds. I feel betrayed by it. My heart screams at my body:

“ How can you let yourself feel this way, how can you want him when he doesn’t want me!?”

You lay me down. I let you kiss me, your hands and lips know what to do. You know every button to push and every caress that will elicit a response. You have become the expert driver of my pleasuring. I close my eyes and try to block out the pain. I can’t.

I let you do this. To punish myself for letting the fool within believe. For falling for it all. For the false hope I clung to. Letting you do this is like flagellation. I let you. I let you ease your finger into me, I let you take your time tasting the freshness of my young cunt. I let you drive your tongue into the lump of my clitoris and let you feel my hips instantly jerk with abandon.

I let you push me to my hands and knees. I feel you behind me. I let you bring the flared shaft up to the moist lips. With your steady, even drive I let you enter me for the last time. I let your hands cup my swaying breasts and I work your cock at a steady rhythm. The inner walls shudder with the final betrayal of my body, as an orgasm floods me.

But you are not done. My punishment for my folly not over. You throw all your weight behind each jamming thrust. At last, on a river of jerking, pumping, heaving climax …. It is over.

We lay for a time frozen in place. As you hold me to you. Falling on our sides, my face buried in your chest, you say the last words that hit the final nail in the coffin. “I love you”.

With that you get up, dress and walk away towards the hotel door. You stop, looking back. Tears in your eyes you mumble “I’m so sorry”. And you leave.

Lying on the bed, I almost feel like I’ve just let you rape me. My self respect shattered, my heart never to be fixed. At first nothing. No more tears. Then as I feel the last residue of your juices leak out like a last bitter farewell a wail of agony rips through my throat and the tears freely flow from me. I am broken, pathetic and alone. The crisp white sheets of the hotel bed suddenly a thousand knives slicing my skin and soul. This once joyous place of reunion now a prison of shame.

I was the other woman. Now … I am nothing.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

August 3, 2009 Posted by | erotica, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments

Part II – Cottage Country

Startled at the man’s reaction, one hand on his softening manhood, frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights; David couldn’t go far with his shorts still around his ankles. He hastily fumbled to make himself decent. Sue drew a sharp breath and took a step back hitting her head on a low branch. Yet … neither left, eager for the last moments of magic. They stood mutely in the shadow of the large tree watching the scene draw to a close.

The man stepped away from the table and offered his hand to his lover. She extended hers and, holding her gently, he pulled her upright so that she sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the picnic table.

Her body was resplendent in the moonlight. David noted that even though she was now upright, her breasts remained firm, forgotten by gravity. Her silhouette was stunning. With her laying on the table he had not been able to fully appreciated how her hip to waist ratio was in fact almost too perfect for words. If he hadn’t known better he would have sworn she was airbrushed. He shook his head feeling once again inadequate as he gazed at this couple and the scene very much like one from ancient mythology; the Gods having chosen the woman they wanted and consumed by desire they had found a way to become one with her.

They moved with such grace that even as they held each other for a moment the atmosphere was still highly charged. The Lady in question pulled her summer dress to cover her modesty and the “God” hiked up his shorts breaking the illusion at last with this very human gesture. The definition of his torso somehow exaggerated by the exertions, however, was something that could not be ignored, and David felt a pang of annoyance as he heard Sue draw in a breath of appreciation. Then, he gave himself a mental slap on the back of the head for the hypocrisy of that emotion.

A few moments later, the spell somewhat broken, David relaxed his grip on Sue’s hand and despite the cool of the evening, their hold was slippery with perspiration. Sue turned and standing on tip toe whispered into his ear. “Come on, let’s go. I think he saw us …. and we need to get back to Gemma .” She led him carefully towards the path and they walked silently to their cottage; their minds full of what they had just witnessed.

At the foot of the verandah she went ahead of him and stopped on top of the steps, turning so she was on a level with him for once. She looked him straight in the eyes, his warm kind eyes, and lifted her hands to hold his face. She leaned and gently kissed him on the lips. David responded, his hands on her small waist pulling her closer, his own mouth working and savoring the taste of her on his own. He breathed in deeply, enjoying, that now familiar perfume, they had bought together at the duty free shop just a few days ago.

They kissed a little longer, their tongues softly darting and entangling with each other’s. She moved her arms so they wrapped around his neck and leaned against him, trusting him with her weight. He pulled her closer, his hands now on the soft flesh at the top of her legs and only the thin linen of her dress separating them. She desperately wanted to feel his touch on her. She hesitated for a moment before jumping up, lifting herself one leg at a time, so she could wrap them tightly around his waist. There was something about the gentle giant in him she had begun to fully appreciate.

They had tried only twice to make love. The first time had been a disaster as Gemma had woken in a nightmare and by the time they had calmed her down the moment had passed. But it had been good to fall asleep and wake in the morning together. Having a toddler in the house, however, meant there was little opportunity for anything first thing in the morning.

The second time had been a little more successful. They had not been interrupted but David hadn’t managed to deal with penetration. His guilt at being with “another woman” had overwhelmed him. He was so depressed about not being able to see it through that it had stopped any further attempts.

But somehow this time felt different. They were both relaxed, with no risk of being interrupted, except perhaps by the night life, and they were both greatly affected by the scene they had witnessed. His kisses began to feel more urgent and his hands tugged at the material of her dress. Sue shuddered with excitement, her eyes closed, her mouth moist, her tongue swirling and teasing over his. His fingers circled close to the fine trimmed hairs and she willed him to be a little more adventurous. She purred as they kissed and this seemed to be enough as his fingers slipped inside the cotton and elastic of her panties and found her yielding and damp edges. It had been sometime since she too had experienced such erotic sensuous attention and the stimulation seemed to open a flood gate.

She broke off kissing his mouth and as she pecked and licked his left ear she softly whispered to him that if he carried on like that she would quickly loose it. She wanted them to have that special moment. He nodded silently and taking one step at a time with her still wrapped around him, his left hand holding her ass in place, he walked up and across the verandah to the cottage door. He found the handle and gently opened it and carried her through.

The fire was still gently crackling and emitting its soft light bathing the room in a romantic glow. David thought briefly of how imprudent it had been to leave Gemma and this fire behind. He chastised himself internally nearly ruining the moment.

He shook his head … and kneeled by the blaze and let Sue lay on the rug. Her eyes bright, and sparkling, never for a moment looking away. Her hand smoothed away furrows that had developed on his forehead. “Come here my sweet” she said softly, as she pulled him so he lay next to her. She unbuttoned the front of her dress and took his hand so that he cupped her breast. They were small, with what David thought, was the most lovely slope to the tip of perky and slightly over large nipples. In their succulent perfection they begged to be sucked. Hungrily he wrapped his mouth around one and did so.

Sue let out a moan … low and guttural. David was certain that she was almost ready to come. He slowed his endeavors wanting, like her, to let the moment be one they would never forget.

He took great, slow pleasure in undressing her, then himself. They enjoyed the exploration of their bodies by the soft warm glow of the fire. Hands shook a little, and sighs were dished out in spades. Sue could not ignore the large and “demanding attention” presence between David’s thighs. She noted again, with a certain amount of appreciation and apprehension, the girth of his shaft. Her tiny frame and his giant one might prove to be a challenge.

David’s hands ran up and down Sue’s back, getting comfortable in the simple joy of being nude together. “Happy naked time.” Sue giggled … quoting Gemma from a few days ago. David’s deep and honest chuckle finally destroying the last barrier left standing between them. He hovered over her now, slowly going down … down… in a trail of soft but urgent kisses. Her thighs opened a little further as he reached the sweet spot and lifted her ass off the carpet bringing her to his lips as if to drink from a chalice. The gesture so reverent Sue’s breath caught in her lungs her body trembling.

He parted her further with his tongue, lowering her back down. She was so drenched she knew her fluids would leave a healthy wet spot. He placed himself between her legs, his member hovering over her small, yet aching entrance and freezed. She bit her lip. “The point of no return” he whispered … her small hands reached for his hips, guiding him a tiny bit closer. He looked down at her. His eyes were filled with tears, a look of utter pain and pleasure writ across his face. Sue held still … very – very still. Waiting for him to be ready.

David’s mind was going a thousand miles an hour. He hovered. His desire almost as painful as the ache in his heart. He finally looked outwards from himself to Sue. Their eyes connected again. He saw all the compassion and tenderness in her, he felt her petite hands holding him. The heat from her crotch a welcome like he had never known. She smiled, nodded …. She understood. She was waiting … he wanted this ….. Her hand pulled him in infinitesimally closer.

She is so beautiful there, open to me, vulnerable yet strong in her patience. She’s a woman I can love … she’s a woman I do love . The realization hit him hard, and in that moment, all guilt disappeared.

Sue noticed a shift in his expression and body language. Her heart swelled as she saw in him that he had at last let go and he was now hers. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and she tried to hold back the sob threatening to take over. She pulled him in, wanting to lose herself in the throws of their union. He complied at last. The wide and thick head of his penis finally touched her, she pushed up, lifting to accommodate. He was still hard, very hard and eager. He pushed, almost violent in the penetration but stopped as she let out a whimper.

Afraid of ripping her, David slowed down. He pushed in, waited. Pushed further and waited. A little further and waited. Sue was so wet that the only friction was from the incredible tightness of the fit. It felt so good he almost lost it right then and there. The waiting was as much for him as it was for her to adjust to his girth. Finally he was in, all the way to the hilt. He pulled back gently, and the moan of pleasure that filled the room came from them both.

He made love to her then. Slow and steady. He watched her carefully. Marveled at the abandon she showed, the pleasure that was so obviously being had. She made him feel like the king of all men as she wiggled, and sighed and arched her back to take him – all of him – in. He couldn’t hold much longer but tried. It had been so long, the feeling was so intense he realized that he just could not stop the tidal wave from crashing, the tsunami from hitting and in a roar of almost rage and desperate violent cry for life he thrust deep within her and came.

She screamed from pain and joy as she joined him moments later and the two forgot about neighbors, strangers, Gemma in the next room, the past and the world around them. For a moment time was suspended and the only thing real was the pleasure being given and received.

He collapsed next to her, and grabbed her to keep them connected and buried his face into her small frame and cried. Large tears of release, erased what seemed like an eternity of pain. And he found himself drowning now in the promise of new happiness, of new beginnings.


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July 23, 2009 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Not the bedroom, Outdoors, romance, Sensual, Voyeur | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments