Afternoon Break

I keep thinking I'm going to get to stage two of this fantasy, but I haven't. This time a guest interrupted our progress. Read how.


It's a cool, sunny September day and he and I are doing house-work. He's doing something outside as I wash dishes in the afternoon light by the window. I see him suddenly, standing in our dirt driveway and he calls to me, "Shasta put on those thick red leg warmers of yours and come down here." I dry my hands, find the knit leg warmers he's talking about, and go downstairs. I go outside in what I have on, which is one of the many reasons I love living out here where it's rural. I'm wearing the softest of his old button down work shirts, panties, and now the red leg warmers pulled up to my knees.

The Egyptian Fantasy

As I walk home in urgent arousal the familiar phrase of "cock hungry" plays in my thoughts. I scan the real and imagined partners of my past for fantasy fodder and lock on my Egyptian neighbor downstairs. His advances have been obvious in the past and I like the way his voice sounds when I imagine him fucking me like the American slut that I am. As soon as I return home I grab my smallest vibrator. Its hooked end and fast pulse setting will provide my cunt the stimulation desired while I furiously jangle the hard button of my clit.

I rush to my bathroom, the only room in my tiny studio with a door to keep my attention starved cats out. I climb into my bathtub wearing a tee-shirt and clutching my Sliquid. I return to my fantasy building:

I walk downstairs wearing a tight, short, black dress and my girly pink bra. I knock on his door and ask to come in when he answers. He looks baffled by this intrusion. Once his door is closed he looks me up and down without hiding his desire.

He asks the perfect question, "What do you want?"
I reply, my voice a deep path and say, "I want you. I want you to sit down."
He sits and I toss two condoms on the couch next to him. I answer further,
"I want to kiss you and I want your dick."

This man from a wildly different culture does not overreact, his time in America has molded him, though forward women are hard for him to accept at first. He thinks for a moment before responding that he would like to see my breasts.

I stare into his dark eyes as my desire pushes further into the forbidden with thoughts of him forcing himself on me, thoughts of being used for his satisfaction, but not my own.

I step closer to where he sits and turn my back to him, "Unzip my dress, just to my waist, please." He makes a noise in his throat and does as I request. I remove and fold the front of my dress down. I turn to face him again and he clucks his tongue, registering my lacy bra with the small rose between the cups, then I remove it. He holds his hands out, I give it to him. He puts the bra in one hand and with the other reaches for me. I climb onto his lap, straddling him. My dress hikes up around my hips and I am not wearing panties. I can smell the humid landscape of my cunt.
He is slow to move, but kisses my neck, then chest. He inches his full lips south and takes my large, bumpy aereola into his mouth. Instantly I arch back and moan. I fucking love having my tits sucked.
His eyes peer up at me when I look back down to see his dark hands on my pale chest. His chocolate lips on my pale breasts. He stops to ask me to moan again. I think of all the times he's heard me above him, loudly enjoying my lovers past and answer, "It's likely." He seems satisfied and begins sucking my tits in earnest.

The first orgasm is building strength in my gripped leg muscles and pelvis. I breathe deeply to let it form. My head rushes and my clit begins to feel as though it is contracting, my puffy labia throbs, my hips thrust and I gasp as the waves of pleasure crash on my cunt, my belly, my lungs and chest. I rest for a minute and resume the fantasy in narrative free mental images.

Dark lips on pale pink hard nipples. Grinding hips leaving streaks of pussy juice on his jeans. Hard cock pushing up through the fabric. Wide brown eyes on the stains my gyrating leaves.

I grab the little vibrator and spit on it. I find the fast pulse setting and shove it into my hungry cunt to gear up for orgasm number two. My beating heart and swirling fingers leave no time for further fantasy. Deep breathing has no use here.

My hips raised, my head butted against the bathtub wall, my big leg muscles tensed: I come hard and go limp. I begin giggling and feel satisfied, aglow after my orgasms. I slowly get up and light headedly walk to the computer to share my indiscretions with strangers of the world wide web.

Two friends are better than One

Let me tell you about a dream I had. It's about my new friends, Shayne and Chill. Shayne and Chill are 2 cool cats who just moved to my hood from the liberal left coast. They're outgoing and social. When I met them, I let me eyes wander up and down their different bodies. Shayne's a short and slim woman with great curves and a sexy Monroe piercing. Chill's tall and lanky, with quirky style. He's got those sinewy arms where the muscles and tendons are easy to see. I love imagining arms like that grasping hard cock or pumping into wet holes. I kinda hoped they were singles, maybe 2 queers. Then again, maybe they could be a kinda queer couple, that'd be fun.

I met them at an otherwise boring soiree. Afterward I was turned on from mingling with the possibilities these two presented, if just by living down the street. By the time I got home my snatch was tingling from all the fantasy I cooked up.

Chill is behind Shayne with her pants around her ankles. His big hands grip swaths of her juicy peach ass while she bucks up back at him. The dimples above her tail catch sweat while I rock on the couch getting my paws wet. In a feat of fantasy Chill pulls her easily up and around to his front. She sits on his cock, as he holds her up, and locks her ankles behind him. I rub my clit against my jeans. I rock back and forth on the seams watching, and swimming in the sound of their moaning.

I almost didn't make it through my house door with my clothes on. I fell to my knees then face down on my bed. I popped open the snaps on my pants and dove at my cunt, heaving and panting. I started out simple, just wanting my clit. I massaged my hard bead, then grabbed a vibrator. I rocked on it, thinking about his hands, her ass, her lips and tits until I came and came and drifted off to dreamland.

And dreamland was good to me; let me keep the ride going. In my dream, I got to be bad. Shayne was not physically present in my dream. Her absence helped up the naughty ante. Say you found your hot girlfriend arched back with another sexy woman lapping at her juice, how upset would you be? It was me and Chill in the dream, a much less acceptable standard.

He and I are in houseful of faceless strangers. Somewhere in the house, unsuspecting, or maybe jealously lurking, Shayne was mingling too.

I help Chill with something, maybe spiking the punch. Then Chill helps me find the other living room. He is a very accommodating man. Chill stands closer to me, like we might kiss. His face looks down and his lips part. I whisper something and he makes me laugh. The tension of desire is building in my stomach; it is like we are in a game, a fantasy dream dance. The scene shifts again.

We're at a party and he's looking at me. He's flirting and pinching. It's all I can do keep a hint of innocence. In so many fantasies I feel my cunt throbbing. In real life before I've been thankful that my hard-on is invisible when standing. No matter how big my larger than average clit gets, it can't be seen through my panties.

My dream self wonders if he can't see my thoughts expanding. I'm having visions of fucking him, riding him hard. I'm on my knees totally naked; I'm blowing him. I suck him. My face is wet with stringy saliva and my throat is full of his long firm sword.

There's another scene change and we're in a hallway. Never far from the sensual imagery and sensation is the even more exciting thought that Shayne is just around the corner, just about to walk in on us. Maybe I'm bent over, with my clothes on but disheveled, and with Chill's thick, hard cock pelvis deep inside me when Shayne rounds the corner and freezes in horror. The shame of being an adulterer and betrayer ups the thrill.

Chill embraces me in a shadow and pulls me into a kiss. Shayne's sure to find us but I can no more ignore my hunger for this man than I can for oxygen. I'm dizzy and out of control. Quickly he gives in to his sex and his hand glides down my body. Just as Chill begins to squeeze my ass and I'm about to commit another cardinal sin my alarm goes off and I wonder again if they might like to swing.