For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this bizarre, twisted fantasy. The roads leading to it were different, but the end result the same: a stranger fucking a very willing me in my bed in the dead of night. I would never see much of him. Perhaps the strangers intent had been rape but instead he’d happened upon a half-naked horny girl……(me) one who was already wet, already willing and able. These fantasies have roots in a time when I didn’t fully understand the mechanics of sex but I knew I wanted it. Before I even knew how to pleasure myself properly, I had firm belief that this rough stranger could please me.

I’d wondered how I could live out this fantasy…make it reality and yet still make it safe despite the underlying danger in it. Even if I’d spoken to the man before online I still wouldn’t *know* him and be able to trust him. Trust that it would be just him that night. Trust that he wasn’t a complete psychopath. I came close once to setting something up but I chickened out at the last minute. I don’t think I could safely pull this off without involving a third party. A third, trusted party who would vet the stranger and who would keep a far-away eye on the scenario.

I pictured myself waiting for the stranger in one of those picnic pavilions we have here in parks. Sitting on the top of a picnic table, facing away from wherever he would be coming in. I would be wearing a summer dress and nothing else; easy access to a shaved cunt and braless tits just about to pop out of the top of the dress. I would hear his footsteps and not see him. I would feel a heady mixture of equal parts fear and arousal take over my body. My body would be humming in anticipation of his touch as his footsteps drew closer. He wouldn’t say a word to me. Just come up to me and……

(you finish it…..)

Tags: erotica, microfantasy, sex

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The party was winding down, and the previously half-lit rooms of the venue delved back into only barely-lit as it changed from the party back to just being a bar/restaurant. As I stood with friends I spied a couple making out like high school kids. I had chatted up the female half of the couple numerous times during the party and she was, indeed, cute and kissable. They weren’t hiding, but they were off in the corner with his back to the wall, in between a few small, short drink tables scattered about to look like a hip version of someone’s living room. They quite clearly were fully absorbed into their kissing and had no cares what was going on around them. Adding to the mix was that they were, to put it bluntly, drunk.

Conversation around me continued and I occasionally joined in but I kept watching the couple. Mostly I was wondering if they were going to be so lost in their kissing that they would forget their surroundings and get a little more interesting. Finally after another fifteen minutes had progressed and they were still locked in teenage kissing, I grew bored of them and my surroundings. I grabbed myself another drink and casually, slowly, headed over near them. Closer. When I was right next to them and they still did not notice, I put my lips to his ear (loud music, you know) and whispered “Touch her boobs, I bet she’d like that” and I backed up a foot.

Without breaking from her lips, and giving no indication that he’d even noticed me consciously, his left hand drifted up from her waist, slowly. He dragged his fingers along the underside of her large breast, tentatively, teasingly. Her body responded in kind, subtly writhing and asking his fingers to explore more. Thankfully the guy wasn’t a complete moron and he continued to boldly squeeze, caress and fondle her tits through her cute t-shirt. When he presumably found her hard nipple he pinched through t-shirt and bra….she broke the kiss to groan and screw up her face in this gorgeous mix of pleasure and pain, her eyes still closed from the kissing of moments earlier. In a haze of overstimulation, alcohol and lust, she opened her eyes partially and in a few seconds her gaze settled on me. I just smiled at her….a slow, knowing, power-hungry-lust-driven smile. I thought about perhaps whispering a command in her ear, but I figured that her partner in crime there wasn’t in any need of coaxing or more arousal. So instead, I suggested to him and only him that “You know, it would be easier to pinch those nipples if her t-shirt and bra weren’t in the way…..why don’t you push them aside?”

He resumed kissing her as a means of distraction, perhaps, or just to simply return to the kissing. The hand on her tit dropped back to her waist and hovered there, just under her shirt, just touching flesh. With both hands he slowly inched her t-shirt up her belly and finally stopped when the front of her shirt was just barely exposing her bra-covered tits. More groping ensued, and then as I instructed, the bra shoved upwards as well exposing her heavy, pale tits. I can’t even tell you how badly I wanted in on the action, to run my tongue around her nipples, but I practiced restraint and just watched.

I watched, as his hands got busy and her breasts were lavished attention. I watched, as pelvic grinding ensued, like two horny kids. I watched, as lust-and-alcohol-drunken kissing continued. I watched, and wondered, if I needed to continue my game and my instructions.

I didn’t, as it were. One of his hands traveled down her body, round her ass and down her chubby thigh, promptly grabbing it and wrapping it around him. This act strained the knee-length denim skirt she was wearing to a restriction that appeared to be painful. Alcohol and hormones cause her to rectify this in a way that made me proud and utterly delighted – she hiked her skirt up to the tops of her thighs, and moved the raised leg from her boy’s legs to one of those low tables. I could see her neon blue thong and whomever should choose to notice the horny couple in the corner would have seen the very bottom of her curvy ass cheeks peeking out from the skirt.

In short order his wandering hands figured out the new development and he shoved that thong so far to the side that it offered her absolutely no modesty, to my glee. A glistening, bare shaved cunt nearly brought me to my knees. The poor girl was so riled up that it only took a few short minutes of his attentions but oh what attentions they were  – his mouth on hers, one hand pinching a nipple and one hand on her cunt, fingering her clit into submission. Watching her come was a beautiful sight indeed. Flushed, twitching, pleasure, pain, sighs, moans, silence, breathing, stillness, recovering.

I left them in her afterglow to join my friends who were finally nearing their slow trek to the door. The cold, brisk night air was very much needed by me.

Tags: erotica, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Voyeurism

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The most delicious part of a perfect kiss is not the pressing of lips together. It is not the claiming, lustful engulfing.

It’s the moment of hesitation. When lips are millimeters apart, when time freezes, when your brain stops thinking and just reacts, just feels.

Perhaps it is the hesitation before lips meet for a first, tentative kiss. Or maybe it’s a hesitation in the transition between small, explorative kisses and giving in to lust. It could be that the hesitation is due to uncertainty. Or fighting a losing battle over lust. With an established partner that hesitation could also be intentional and meant to merely be a maddening tease. Draw out the longed-for moment of contact.

The hesitation is one of those times where so much more is said in the inaction than the action. And I keep coming back to it in my mind, and it is just as prominent in my memory bank as the actual kiss. Recalling the brief second where a whirling eddy of thoughts and wants ran through my own mind is almost more arousing to me now than the kiss that followed.

Tags: erotica, kissing, lips, Photos, reality

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Living in an apartment complex means a reduced amount of privacy overall. Especially where the balcony is concerned. I’ve often wished for more privacy there, more seclusion, but sometimes the lack of it proves exciting. The apartment on the other side of us is a mirror image, and so our balconies share a wall – the 2-foot wide brick wall separates the balconies from building wall to railing and at least affords complete visual privacy from the balconies in one’s own building. But since we’re visible to 4 other buildings and a portion of the parking lot below, I don’t ever notice many people using their balconies in the warmer months.

We had a rogue very warm day in late fall, a few months ago, the lovely sort that occurs after leaves have fallen and bugs have started hibernation. Evening became night as I reclined on the balcony, reading, but I was so comfortable that I strained to continue reading with no more light than that coming from the sliding glass door behind my head. I heard the noisy, squeaky screen door open and shut on the other side of the brick wall but I paid no mind. I didn’t expect whoever it was to stay out there. But then I heard the muffled, hushed tones of a couple talking and laughing. I tried (of course) to eavesdrop but I couldn’t make anything out. I blocked it out until it changed – to mostly silence punctuated by a random giggle.

I lowered my book to my lap and focused on listening, trying to figure out what I was hearing.

Kissing sounds.

I heard their kissing become more passionate and insistent. Then I heard a giggle from her and a whisper of faux-indignation and what sounded like “someone will see us”. Voyeur interest officially piqued, I went about the task of getting myself from my lounger to the wall as silently as possible. I noticed a faint section of light being cast from their sliding glass door and I momentarily pondered if it was worth it to leave the apartment, sneak around back, and try to spy. I decided against it and instead I stood up against the wall, as close to the railing as I dared. I bit my lip when I heard a little moan from one of them.

A wave of disappointment crashed over me as I heard the squeak of their screen door – on second thought, that was quick….squeak…light off from inside the apartment…squeak again. No, instead of going inside, he just turned off the interior lights and said something to her about it being dark now. Apparently that quieted her fears because I heard the sounds of zippers and buckles and pants with laden pockets hitting the balcony deck.

More hushed giggles, more kissing sounds. A gasp followed immediately by a quiet, restrained moan. I had to make up the images in my head, try to picture what caused that gasp, who’s mouth was on what body part. Or was it even a mouth? Perhaps his fingers found purchase inside her hot, wet slit. Maybe the fingers were lingering above the waist and caressing her nipples, teasing, drawing it out. I decided it had to be the nipples in a teasing fashion because I would expect less restraint if he were rubbing her clit.

I barely realized that my own hand was lightly teasing my own nipple. My eyes were closed so that I could better concentrate on their sounds. Have you ever just listened to the sounds of sex? It’s not like porn, it’s not a caricature or obvious all the time. I stood and listened, trying to determine if the wet sounds were mouth-on-cock, fingers-in-really-wet-cunt, or cock-in-wet-cunt. Either visual was arousing but no, I wanted to try and be right. I strained to hear more; the heavy breathing was a deeper resonance, perhaps it was mouth-on-cock? My guess was confirmed when he gave it away with a “Fuck yes, baby, suck it harder”. I imagined his hands on her head, staring at the sight of her lips devouring his cock, relishing the feel of her warm tongue pressing against the underside.

…….to be continued…..

Tags: erotica, fantasy, Public Sex, Voyeurism

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“I parked in the garage today. Top floor.”

That was all Office Boy’s email said. While I had a pretty decent idea why he was telling me this, I decided to play coy and I asked him why.

“Meet me inside the elevator lobby up there at 12, and you’ll find out.”

“Will I need my coat? It’s pretty cold out there, you know. Where are we going?”

“No coat. Not going anywhere. You’ll see….just be quiet and enjoy ;)”

And so the morning progressed as it usually did on days like that. Flirts and looks and words strung together made my breathe catch and heart race. He had me squirming and wet. I contemplated putting the bullet vibrator in but as soon as I mentioned that idea to him he said no…not “yet”. When he told me to bring the vibrator with me on lunch break, I knew for certain his full intent.

When I stepped out of the elevator onto the top floor of the garage I was happy to see that at least the dark and cloudy sky was calm; I hadn’t brought an umbrella. He was standing a few feet away, waiting on me. Suddenly I felt like I was in high school and I flashed back to uncomfortable, frustrating backseat sessions. Thankfully the car he was leading me to was a nice sized SUV. He unlocked it with one of those keychain buttons and grinned at me as he held the back door open. I smiled and shook my head in partial disbelief as I climbed in first and slid across the bench seat. I glanced out a few windows and could see two buildings taller than ours nearby.

“I wonder if any of those people inside happened to be looking out and saw us get in?”

He smiled and said “I hope so” as he pulled me in hard for a long kiss.

This was a moment that we hadn’t experienced yet – (somewhat limited) privacy, a lesser chance of being caught. Time. As the rain started, that chance of being caught together lessened even more. We knew this and broke the kiss for a quick giggle at our luck.

His hand quickly slid from my throat to my collarbone and lingered for a soft sweep across the top of my breasts before one hand continued down to cup my breast inside my bra. His thumb flicked my hard nipple a few times and I gasped while his tongue was in my mouth. Some quick teenage-like fumbling occurred as our hands and arms tangled in our hurry; I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my v-neck sweater and shoved my other bra cup down to fully expose the breast that his hand wasn’t busy with and he quickly followed my lead with the side of the bra in his possession. Foreheads pressed together, lips not quite touching, we both slowed down to do just one thing.

He pinched one nipple lightly; I said “harder”.

He pinched harder and I said “yesss…fuck”.

His other hand joined my other breast and he whispered “God you have such beautiful tits” right before he pinched both nipples *hard*, which elicited a squeak and a moan from me.

We kissed lightly and without focus, both a sensual act and maddening at the same time. More, I needed more.

In a blur I was on my knees on the seat, straddling his leg, his mouth latched onto one nipple and his fingers hunting for the key to undoing my dress pants. Before I could think to offer help I felt his cool, rough fingers finding out just how wet I was. He massaged my clit as I shamefully pressed my cunt harder against his hand but this wasn’t a good angle. Not with pants. I wasn’t sure it was a smart idea, but they had to go.

As my pants came off the bullet vibrator fell out of my pocket; his eyes lit up when he saw it. At the same moment I remembered how he had wished in the past that he could hear me as I came those times in the bathroom for him, or better yet he wished to hear me come in a place I didn’t have to grasp for the strength to be quiet. With my panties left on I put the bullet in its traditional location, nestled between my very slippery cunt lips and the cord threaded up and out the top of my panties. The snug stretchy fabric held the bullet in place despite all the slippery juices, so that when I turned it on I was rewarded with perfect vibrations thrumming away on my clit.

I told him to kiss me and as he did my hand found that very tempting bulge in his pants; aftera minute or so I finally moved from rubbing and teasing through the fabric to his belt buckle but he stopped me.

“No, right now is just about you and if your hand is on my cock I won’t be able to hold to that.”

“That’s not fair to you, though!” I protested and I meant it.

“Oh you’re not going home tonight until I come. By 5, everybody will be cleared out of this level” and he grinned at his foolproof little plan.

I considered teasing him more and making him think I wouldn’t be able to meet up again, but I’m not that mean and I really needed to come. A funny thing happens when I find myself in situation like this – disheveled state of partial undress, a morning of teasing and arousal, a cute guy kissing me and pinching me in exactly the right ways with one of my favorite vibrators buzzing away on my clit……I act like a bitch in heat. In between kisses I nearly begged him to fill my cunt somehow, some way. His fingers pushed my panties aside just enough and in went 1….2….3 fingers with the heel of his palm pushing against the bullet. I ended up writhing and humping his hand as I whispered “almost” which prompted his free hand to pinch a nipple and his lips to travel to my neck, to that perfect spot.

He later told me I was loud when I came, loud and beautiful with eyes closed and filthy words and moans pouring from me while my cunt spasmed and clenched around his fingers.

I couldn’t wait to try to return the favor at 5pm.

Tags: erotica, orgasms at work

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