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Forum Category: Erotic Stories
  
  Topic
 Originator Date Posted 
   The fantasy that started this madness  

CINCINNATI, OH
12/12/2007 13:04
Posted By:  - CINCINNATI, OH  
 
Date Posted: 12/12/2007 13:04
   This is a story I wrote for my husband - the fantasy that really threw us head over heels into this crazy thing called the Lifestyle.


I.

He has been watching her for weeks, he tells his wife, L, as she sits on his lap, running her fingers lightly up and down his neck. He sees her - at the bank, at the gas station. He first noticed her, he tells L, at the gas station. She was at the pump across from him, dark hair blowing across her face as she watched the numbers intently. She hadn’t noticed him then, watching her as she slid back into her car, the wind catching her skirt just enough that he could make out the whiteness of her thigh, the curve of her hip. Not knowing that he stood there, the image of her skin causing a hot flush to spread down his groin, imagining how it would taste to have that soft flesh caught between his teeth, to run his hand along the inside of her thigh.

He stops talking for a moment, as L’s tongue runs lightly along his thigh, biting it gently as her hand finds its way between his legs. “Like this?” she says, her voice a husky whisper, and he can tell that she’s aroused.

“Mmmm,” he nods, closing his eyes, seeing her again in his mind.

He hadn’t expected to see her again. To him she was nothing more than an image, hair across the face, a flash of white thigh. She was the stuff of a late night alone.

When he found himself at his company’s bank to make a deposit, he was in a hurry and annoyed that the lines weren’t moving faster. He had stepped to the counter as the teller lifted her head to smile at him and was caught off-guard to find that same dark hair being pushed out of her face. She met his eyes and held them before lowering them slightly and asking how he was today. She was younger than he, he guessed her to be about 25 or so, and not pretty in the conventional sense of the word. Her face was unremarkable except for her dark green eyes and thick, dark lashes. But there was something sweet and naïve about her that left him wondering what she’d look like when she climaxed.

When she got up for a moment to retrieve something, he saw that she was wearing a skirt – a thin, gauzy skirt that skimmed the swell of her hip, showing the faint outline of a thong at the top. She turned and caught his gaze on her ass. She flushed but seemed to slow her walk back to the counter, her eyes looking into his and back to her hands in turn. He had smiled at her then, somewhat embarrassed to have been caught staring. She handed his deposit receipt to him, her fingers brushing his palm lightly as she pulled back her hand, a shy smile playing at her lips.

L’s fingers brush lightly over his palm, along the inside of his forearm. He shivers slightly as they brush across his nipple, erect beneath her cool fingertips. “What happened then?” she breathes into his ear as she shifts to straddle his leg and he can feel how wet she is pressed to his thigh, can feel the pulse dancing wildly in the hollow beneath her throat.

It was a week before he saw her again. He had been half-watching for her car around town, not quite sure what he would do if he saw her. He had run out to get something for lunch and found himself sitting behind a car like hers at a stoplight. He stared at the driver’s side mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of the driver. The driver had leaned against the door, head on hand, and he saw the now-familiar dark hair falling softly around her hand. She glanced in her mirror and saw him watching, a small smile of recognition playing at her lips. She held his eyes in the mirror until the light turned green. They drove, he thinking of nothing but her smile and that oh-so-white thigh, until she signaled a turn into the Post Office. He hesitated and signaled last minute, following behind her and parking 3 slots away.

She got out of her car, never looking at him, but he knew she knew he was there. He waited a moment until she was through the door and then got out and followed her. She was standing in line, wearing another skirt, this one fitted to her soft hips, accentuating the curve of her ass, and a blouse just sheer enough that he could see the lace of her bra, the slope of her breast. He wondered about the color of her nipples, thought of running his tongue around them, sucking them. He was standing behind her now, just to the side, and he could smell the faint scent of her soap. He saw her turn just slightly, an acknowledgement of his presence that no one else would understand if they even saw it at all. He stood close enough to feel the heat rising from her skin. The man in front of her made a movement and she stepped back slightly, her ass brushing the front of his pants and then pressed there on his cock, for just a moment, and she moved forward.

“Mmmmm,” L moans in his ear and her hand drops to his lap. She cups his balls in her hand, lets her hand slide up and squeezes the base of his shaft. He’s rock hard. “What did you do?” she asks him, sliding her hand up to the tip of his penis, feeling it slick and wet already.

“Nothing. She was gone.”

“God, I want you to fuck her,” L whispers, “I want her to do this…” He feels her tongue, cat-like against his scrotum, and then hard as she runs it straight up his cock, her hand covering the tip as she licks and runs her lips up and down the shaft. He moans softly as her tongue runs up the side and then suddenly he is in her mouth, her hot tongue everywhere at once as he curls his fingers in her hair and fucks her.





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