Waking With You

This morning lying in my bed I was thinking of you. I think of you a lot in those moments right before I go to sleep, and just as I wake up. With my eyes closed, I can remember those moments spent together, focus on the way it feels when you touch me.

This morning I thought about you, longed for you, wished I could reach for you. I remember the feeling of you beside me in bed and I want that feeling again. I want to have access to that beautiful cock in the night and in the morning. I want to be able to wrap my lips around you whenever I so desire. I want to be able to perch over you in the morning and lower my warm, wet pussy onto your morning wood then ride you and feel you filling me up like no man ever has. I want to feel your hand on my bare ass all during the night. I want your fingers pinching my nipples and your mouth on my neck. I want those deep, passionate kisses. I want to start my day by fucking you. I want to end my day that way too.

I know it’s selfish. I know it doesn’t fit into the lives we’ve created. I know it’s probably not even healthy for me to think about. I know it can't happen. I want it anyway.

First Meetings

The plan came together rather quickly. Everything seemed to just fall into place, all the details nice and easy and clean. There wasn’t even a lot of time to pass between making the plan and executing it and once the commitment was made there was no way in hell I was turning back. No way would I miss this chance. We’d been seducing each other for months and I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone.

As I drove, knowing the time was drawing near, my stomach was in knots. A phone call that he’d arrived and I swear I thought I’d throw up. I sat in the parking lot longer than I should have, trying to catch my breath, trying to relax. Finally, gathering my wits, I made my way through the lobby, to the elevator and to the room, knocking on the door, thinking my knees would surely buckle under me at any time.

The door opened and the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen greeted me. Were there words? I don’t remember. Something about me being tall, resulting in me kicking off my shoes and all but jumping into his arms. No awkwardness, no unease, just total comfort and relief to be in the arms of the man that I’d fallen for, harder than ever before. Little did I know how naïve I was to those feelings even then.

A few precious, delicious kisses, a hug and a few more deep breaths. I wonder if I was pale. I felt pale. I also felt his cock pushing against me through his pants. Can I touch him now? Would that be inappropriate? I wanted to touch him. He must have noticed my knees shaking and suggested I sit down. On the bed. I did, but then pulled him toward me, spread my legs and leaned back on the bed. He continued to smile. Good, he must really like me.

Soon, the kisses became deeper and his hands moved up my thigh, finding no panties under my skirt, seemingly happy, though not surprised. I never have been able to keep a secret. He pulled off my blouse, pausing to look, although I couldn’t focus on his eyes anymore. I couldn’t stop looking at the bulge in his pants. Did I unbutton his shirt? Yes, I think I did. Is that bulge for real? Oh my gosh. That’s incredible.

I unbuckled his belt and starting fooling with his pants. Why do they make men’s pants so complicated with all those buttons? Seeing my trouble, he helped. Pushing them aside, reaching into his boxers, I felt, then saw the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. I was amazed, astonished really. It must sound like I’m gushing, but I have to say it was truly amazing and even a little scary. Do cocks really get this big? Can I handle this? I certainly wanted to try and right then.

Precum is a beautiful thing. It’s like an appetizer to the perfect meal. I slid off the bed onto my knees and tasted him for the first time, wondering how in the world I would ever get him off, without being able to get enough of him in my mouth. I wish I could say I figured it out, but I’m afraid I didn’t – not for lack of trying mind you.

Soon, probably too soon I was back on the bed. I was so torn, wanting to suck on that beautiful cock, while also wanting to feel it in my now very wet pussy. I pulled him back on top of me, somehow getting my skirt off – another detail I can’t remember. He began rubbing the head of his cock up and down my slit, feeling my wetness and then ever so gently pushed inside of me. I don’t know how I didn’t cum right then. What fullness and pleasure and perfection. I think my eyes flew open just in time with the moan escaping from deep in my throat.

What happened from there is the kind of sex you see perfectly executed in movies, but never in real life. We had great rhythm, my hips meeting his plunges in perfect time, my legs falling comfortably around his legs and back. He filled me up like no man before him and sent me into a place of tranquility that I’d never felt. We rocked on for quite a long time, given the excitement we’d built up. We’d both speculated we’d explode rather quickly, but that simply wasn’t the case at all.

There was a point though, a point where the passion took over, where I lost control. I was so taken with the pleasure of it all, the realization of how effortless our love making was that I surrendered control and let my mind and my soul drift away into a beautiful, peaceful place. When I felt the waves begin I didn’t even try to stop them. My breath caught, my back arched, my eyes rolled and my pussy contracted, grabbing hold of him, hoping to never let go. Suddenly I was aware of his own release, feeling his beautiful cock swell even more and pump and twitch. I felt hot cum join my own juices as we sighed and moaned and gasped in release.

Cumming together is a beautiful thing. It’s the kind of thing that people write about and fantasize about but doesn’t happen very often, at least not in my experience. This was perfect though, a sign of the fate of the experience, our relationship as a whole. You always remember the first time. With this man, I will remember every time.

Beginnings

We met in an unconventional way. We have an unconventional relationship. Most of the people we know and love and trust would not approve. None of that matters. We know what we have is real and valid and precious. We think we’re lucky to have found each other.

Some months ago we connected. He said things that intrigued me, made me want to know more. He’d have to tell you what attracted him to me, but I imagine it was some of the same, along with a nice shot of my tits of course. For whatever the reason, we were drawn to each other, both needing a little something more than what our current situations offer.

We began innocently enough, exchanging email, chatting, finding we had a many things in common and yet accepting the not-so-common. Eventually there would be a phone call and more. Finally, there was a confession on both our parts of real feelings and desires that neither of us really knew what to do with. At some point, we recognized the need to meet for real, in real life, to act on all the fantasies we’d role played and typed and talked about. That need has built for some time.

And now we draw close to that time. Plans have been made. The anticipation is intoxicating. There are so many things I look forward to. I long for that first kiss, the first time our tongues meet. I can’t wait to feel his hand on my face, my back, in my hair, on my ass. I can’t wait to touch him, feel his body close to mine. I can’t wait to feel his amazing cock pressed against me, growing in anticipation. I wonder how long we’ll wait. I wonder if we’ll pause and savor the moment or be fucking like animals in mere minutes. Will it be soft and tender or passion mixed with frenzy?

Of course there are fears too. At least on my part. While I know all I need to know about him to be certain that I’ll be attracted to him and enjoy spending time with him, I worry that he won’t feel the same. He’s seen accurate, current pictures, but I’m afraid he’ll see me in person and decide I’m nearly as sexy as he thought.

Beyond that small fear is a much larger one. Part of me is quite fearful that things will be just as perfect as we’ve imagined. That must sound crazy, but it is true nonetheless. What if we’re perfect together? What if he satisfies me like none other? What if we have a bond that send us spiraling into a love so deep that nothing else can compare? What if it’s a burden to go back to our real lives and pretend that nothing happened? Are we opening a Pandora’s box that will be impossible to close? I don’t know.

I do know that there’s no turning back now. I fully intend to see this through. It may very well be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but I have convinced myself that I deserve it. I owe it to myself to be with someone that craves me as much as I crave them. I owe it to myself to quite possibly feel what true, passionate love feels like physically. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this.

Sexy Back

It’s time for some fantasy around here.

There is nothing sexier than the feel of man’s hands on me, all over me, but most especially on my neck and back. A hand on the small of my back or the curve of my waist, even with clothes on, sends shivers through me. Mix with that two hands, from behind, pulling me closer, adding kisses on my neck and I become putty in his hands.

A few minutes of that and I’ll be your submissive slut for life. Anything you want can be yours and I will eagerly and blissfully give it.

I recently felt those hands on me, clothes still on, grabbing at my waist and my hips, pulling me, touching me at first outside my shirt, but quickly sliding underneath. I leaned forward, pushing my ass towards him, purring quietly, loving the touch. He smacked my ass and nibbled on my neck and I could feel the moisture building between my legs.

I pushed my own pants down, giving him full access to my ass, wanting him to fuck me right then, but the sweet torment continued. Soft touches up and down perfectly mixed with firm touches to my ass. I heard his pants unzip, felt the warmth of his skin against me, sensed that beautiful cock close behind me. I pushed back with him firmly against me and began to grind, him still pulling on my hips.

My pussy was dripping with juices I was so turned on, but the delicious tease continued with him reaching around me, pushing my bra up and grabbing my tits firmly. He roughly rolled my nipples between his fingers, making my breath catch. I love that. His hands then moved down my stomach to my wet pussy and with one hand back on my waist, he used the other to tease my clit. I love those magic fingers. They make me cum so effortlessly.

With my knees weak and breathing erratically, he whispered in my ear words every woman wants to hear, that I’m sexy, that I turn him on, that he loves everything about me. Beautiful words from a sexy man with a perfect cock. This is a fantasy indeed.

The Other Woman

I’ve become very aware of the fact that I’m the other woman. The “other” woman. I don’t think I want to be the other woman. I want to be “the” woman. I want to feel special and loved and needed and wanted every day, not just the days he can meet me, not the days that he’s horny, not just in a hotel room.

I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want comfort and love and commitment mixed with mind blowing, fuck-me-like-there’s-no-tomorrow sex. And why can’t I have that? Am I not special enough? Not pretty enough? Not a good enough lover? Does anyone have that?

I don’t blame her or even him. I know he loves her. I know she’s special and believe me, no one wants to protect her and her feelings more than me. I know he’s doing the right thing in staying, as am I, but there’s a part of me that also knows I’m settling for less than what I want or even what I think I deserve.

I’m strong and independent and self sufficient. I learned at a very young age how to take care of myself, how to survive. Part of that survival involved becoming a bit cold and accepting that sometimes we do things out of necessity, not out of passion. I settled for less in an effort to make life easier, not knowing that I could or even wanted more. Now, many years later I’m still in this situation of comfort and ease, trading in fervor and excitement and what would ultimately feel best for me.

I just want to be chosen. I want someone to be willing to give everything to me, not just a hard cock and a few stolen hours. I want to be special every day and know that I’m with the one person I can’t live without. I want to know that he’s with me because he can’t imagine one morning or night without me.

Perhaps it’s selfish. Perhaps it’s unobtainable. I may never know. I want it nonetheless.

Perfection

I don’t know where to start and I definitely don’t ever want to finish. I want to remember every touch, every taste, every look. I want the sight of you hovering over me burned in my head. I want to never forget the feeling of you buried deep inside of me, never forget the feel of your hand on the small of my back, never forget the sound of you breathing deeply in my ear as I come over and over and never forget the perfection of it all.

We were made for each other. I will never doubt fate again. I believe that I found you for a reason. Actually, I believe we found each other for several reasons. No one has ever fucked me like you. No one will ever fuck me like you. The intensity, the passion, the raw emotion of it all surprises me, satisfies me and still leaves me eager for more.

I’m ruined now in that I will surely never find anyone that can satisfy me as you do. You do own me and I can’t think of any place I’d rather be. If I’m dreaming, I hope I never wake up.