Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

Wishful Thinking – A Dream

He sat back in his chair, took a deep lazy drag of his cigar, tilted his head and let out a thick stream of dense smoke. Staring kindly at the individual sitting across from him, he marvelled at how odd life could be and at the twists and turns along the way. His past had already been peppered with particularly unusual moments. This was one of those moments. He focused on the young man’s words.

“Good luck with her” a tone of bitterness slipping into his youthful voice.
“Luck?” he asked taking another drag and sitting back.
“She’s had two husbands to date – what makes you think you’ll fair better than us?”
“Ah” he nodded.
“Ah? I’d think you arrogant if I had a mind to” the young man replied, a nervous laugh betraying his calm demeanour.
“There is one fundamental difference between us you know” This time he picked up his drink, stared a long time at the amber color before taking a sip.
“Oh really? Care to share?” the young man said with a touch of cynicism.
“Certainly. We make different assumptions.” Setting the tumbler down carefully on the glass patio table he closed his eyes enjoying the warm sun on his face.
“You know what they say about assumptions ….” The young man replied waving his hand in dismissal.
“You assumed she’d stay no matter what”.
“We were married man – was that wrong?”
“Yes”
“Jesus! And you don’t? That’s a tad masochistic isn’t it?”
“I have the bite marks to prove it. But back to the point … It’s not that I think she’ll leave me”
“Oh? Now I’m confused”
“You assumed she’d stay – I assume she’s bored”.
Silence lingered between them with the cigar smoke and smell of whiskey a strong contrast to the heady scent of Lilac in the air.
“Huh” the young man nodded.

He never thought he’d be sitting there sharing a glass of whiskey with her husband – a whiskey brought back from a trip the two of them had enjoyed together in Scotland, sitting in the yard of the house they had called home for over 9 years and more unbelievably, smoking a cigar that this young man had brought back from his last trip to Cuba – for him – the new man in his wife’s life. He had been surprised at the maturity in that gesture. The fellow was 14 years younger and yet had displayed in that instant more spine and understanding then most men twice his age. He had been impressed and gone from not understanding what she had seen in him to deep respect. Something had changed; a tiny door of acceptance had opened and now they both danced around it carefully trying to find out what this meant for either of them.

He had been astonished at how little they had in common. How could one woman love two such utterly opposite men? This young man, apart from playing volleyball, was more into spectator sports – watching hockey, football, formula one and all sorts of TV on top of that, he ate fast food without question, was naturally slim and was younger than her by two years. In contrast he himself was more into actively “doing” the sports, going to the gym, rock climbing, scuba diving and soccer, didn’t even have cable and was what some would consider a health nut where food was concerned. He worked hard at keeping his body fit and was 12 years older than she. Those were just the obvious things seen at the surface. The more you dug the more you could see the differences. They both had thick hair and strong facial lines – other than that … the only thing they had in common – was her.

As if summoned by his thoughts she appeared form the kitchen with an empty tray and walked over. Her hair recently cut short still surprised him, and he read the same thought on her husbands face. She’d had it long for nearly 20 years. She nervously shifted from one foot to the other – clearing the empty glasses off the table, unintentionally letting the sun backlight her and showing off her long legs under her cotton summer dress. The young mans gaze looked straight into his own. Unintentionally? They both grinned and chuckled … no perhaps not.

Her time had come to leave the house, collecting the last little bits that were her own; she came back from dropping a small bag of things in the trunk of the car parked on the interlock driveway she had installed herself, so many years ago. The house having sold at last she collected the last of her things. Her husband was taking the week to sort himself out before the new owners moved in.

Walking to the car, he sat in the driver’s seat and watched her from a distance. The front door was open and he saw her hand sliding lovingly along the solid oak banister, her eyes filling up with tears in a final farewell to a house she had renovated lovingly for over 10 years. She had put her soul into the place and letting go had been tough. She stood on the front porch – and looking her husband in the eye she simply said “I am sorry”. He shrugged. An awkward moment followed and then he grabbed her, held her tight, hugged her. They cried a moment and then he let her go. Walking ahead of her to the car he popped his head in the open passenger window.

“Take care of her you hear me?”
“I will”
“I am dead serious man – you hurt her ….”
“She’s more likely to hurt me …”
He started laughing and stepped away opening the door for her. The door slammed shut. This was it. It really was over and they both knew it. Divorce papers would follow in time. It was now up to them to decide if they wanted to remain friends or just let the other disappear and become a pleasant memory of their past. Observing the young man he barely knew, he sincerely hoped they’d remain friends.

Driving along the back roads, he looked at her from time to time. She was uncharacteristically silent. He wasn’t certain if she was sad or what emotion was flowing through her. She neither laughed nor cried. That worried him. She was the type to wear her feelings on her face. But he remained quiet. He was there if she needed him. Her hand slide onto his thigh and squeezed it as if she’d read his mind. He looked at her again, and saw the faintest of smiles.

He spontaneously decided to take them for a country drive and for an hour he let the road take them where it would. She remained quiet just looking out the window. Spring was nearly over; the ground littered with the carpet of petals from fruit trees and the blush of early spring green being replaced by the darker hues of summer. They past a lake sparkling like a diamond in the sun with its surface shimmering and nearly blinding him. The deep, dark indigo water still looked frigid as a lone canoe punctured the tableau with its fresh vibrant red markings. He looped the car around and found a spot to park. Opening the windows, they looked at nature’s masterpiece in silence breathing in the fragrant breeze.

Her hand then wondered a little. His cock shifted slightly. He tried not to let it rise. But it did. It wasn’t appropriate but ….

Suddenly she was practically in his lap. Her lips on his, her hands pulling at his clothing and he was so startled he couldn’t respond. She pressed on, holding his hand to her breast. She let out a deep sigh when his fingers dug deeply into the soft pillows. Feeling like a teenager at a make-out point, he threw himself into the same spring fevered frenzy she was displaying. Clothing came off haphazardly, gear shift dug in all the wrong places but somehow, they found a way and she straddled him in the front seat and let him slide deeply into her crying cunt. The pressing need, hurried hunger and speed did not relent. The push for orgasm, the drive to feel alive, all continued in wild abandon as each reached higher and higher towards that one moment when – at last – she screamed her pain, her agony, her sense of loss and cried with tears of joy at the new beginning erupting within her, within her life, within her soul.

Panting, they sat there letting their heart beats slow and the sweat cool. He kissed her on the forehead and gently pulled an errand curl from her forehead. Cupping her face in both his hands, he kissed her lightly – then deeply. Not letting her go he asked gently…

“You alright now?”

She kissed him back, a wide smile on her lips and nodded before snuggling into his neck to her favourite “sweet” spot. He held her and grinned to himself. Never a dull moment.

March 24, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Outdoors | , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Real World be Damned

What a horrid day. She walked the cold streets leading to her loft tired and beaten, feeling like it would have been best if she’d just stayed home, preferably in bed, and avoided the real world altogether.

Her boss had “lost it” in frustration over a project that had been stonewalled for political reasons and decided to take it out on her bandying about statements like “I can’t do everything you know” and “I am surrounded by idiots!” making her feel like she wasn’t pulling her weight, when she knew perfectly well she was. She had spent the day tip toeing around trying to either avoid him, or in some cases just deliver early on some smaller projects just to prove him wrong. In the end all she had managed to do was exhaust herself.

Then, the ex called and made a statement along the lines of them not seeing each other enough. Adding that he wanted to discuss where their relationship was going. A part of her didn’t understand the statement at all. No time to talk about us … what us? She had moved on and it was relatively obvious that they were headed for divorce. She couldn’t understand why this needed further discussion but hated that there was some veiled passive aggressive attempt to making her feel guilty. She had wondered if perhaps a lawyer might need to get involved sooner rather than later. She felt a pang of insensitivity towards the entire state of affairs. In all fairness to the man, he’d not seen this coming. That in itself was a massive issue between them, he had felt side swiped and she did regret that. She was also angry that he hadn’t heard her all those years when things could still be saved. Yes, she hated the entire thing. Good or bad – a loss was a loss. It was painful. For both of them.

As if that wasn’t enough, a cousin decided to finally vent a frustration that had been building up for years. The perspective had been totally different from hers. Although she could admit to some of the faults he had found in her behavior, his statements were over arching and unfair, so much so that she had fought back tears. Why did people feel that it was ok to vent via e-mail during work hours?

But who was she kidding? She’d done the same thing so many times. She supposed it was the entire captive audience approach. She made a mental note not to conduct herself that way in the future, as she kicked off her high heels and walked into the loft. Leaving behind her a trail of work garb she finally flopped down on the bed, indulging in a little self pity.

She had texted her Love to let him know. Giving him her emotional reaction as each event occurred. She felt terrible disturbing him. His high profile job was hard enough on him without some emotional girlfriend interrupting his day. Yet, she knew he’d be more offended if she didn’t. He had simply replied that she was obviously having a bad day, and that he was there for her if she needed him, for as long as she needed him. Wonderfully he did not offer to “fix” anything – only to be there – her strong shoulder to lean on. He had called to re-enforce the sentiment verbally and had met up with her for an afternoon coffee so she could vent a little.

She smiled. She admitted to herself that she did need him. Yes, she needed him and that was alright. She wasn‘t going to pretend to be tougher than she was. She wasn‘t going to pull some “feminist“ move and try dealing with it all on her own. No. She waited patiently for him to arrive, knowing that the moment his arms wrapped around her she’d feel safe and loved once again. She knew she had her failings, but somehow, his ability to see her faults and abnormalities as intriguing made life all the sweeter. She was strong, but with him she could break down, cry if need be and let her emotions loose. He was her safe haven.

She heard his unique footsteps in the hallway before the metal click of the keys in the door. Quietly he entered and put his things down, removed his shoes and without further delay came to find her on the bed. His face appropriately somber, he sat next to her and put his hand on hers. The floodgates opened and tears took over. Scooping her up like a child in his arms, he held her then. With him, and him alone, she wasn’t embarrassed to cry.

“Let it out love” were the only words he ushered. She did. After what seemed like forever but was likely only a few minutes he playfully swatted her bare ass.

“Now … what shall I make us for dinner – you hungry?”

She smiled. Damn she was lucky. He had likely had a long and grueling day – yet he was going to make them dinner and he had this habit of going about doing that in just his jeans or nothing at all. A habit she had no intention of breaking him from.

He started stripping off his work clothes. She stared at his body. The contours so familiar to her. Things about him she found unique and pleasing to her personal sense of esthetics. Not to mention comforting. He went to pull on his jeans when a whimper escaped her lips. He froze and looked at her … All she could do was, in a child like gesture, put out both arms and open and close her fists in a “I want I want” motion. He laughed and tossing his jeans aside, launched himself onto the bed with her.

She giggled as he tickled her, and his hands started their magnetic dance.

“That’s my resilient girl” he said with affection a half laugh still caught in his throat. One hand found a soft spot and the other tickled her side catching her in two places, one melting into him, the other squealing. Caught between woman and child.

His mouth silenced her. His soft and lush lips an unfailing pacifier. His hand lightly smoothed across the curves of her ass, and brought his fingers into hungry contact with the already flowing juices of her lower lips. She gasped and held his cock tightly as he kissed her neck. Her clit stood at attention, and he lightly pinched it.

She pushed forward driving her crotch against his cock, trying to mount the high-reaching shaft. She wanted to get lost, escape from it all, have her world reduced to this one space, filled with only him, and their intimacy. To have her universe pin pointed to one small spot of pure pleasure.

He pushed his cock-head into her slippery cunt. At first the hole resisted, then responded to give way, her body became erratic and started to wiggle under the pleasurable fill of his manhood. The wild abandon continued with feverish elevations until her legs tightened, she gasped for air, her fingers dug deeply into his flesh, pulling and urging his ass and thus him in deeper. Her cunt began to grip and spasm along the length of his driving hardness.

The feeling was more than he could handle, the burden of his semen threatened to pump out into the channels. He moaned as his deeply-imbedded cock grew hotter and finally they met, in a frenzy of mutually pleasurable climaxes.

A light grin on her face, she watched him clean up the “mess” and finally pull on his jeans. She felt better and was ready to dose off when her tummy grumbled in a most un-lady like way.

“So about dinner…”

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
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March 21, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, romance, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments