Midweek Fantasizing … It’s An Uber Thing

I was day dreaming again the other day. It happens. I’m a bit fixated. Call me shallow, but these days I’m avoiding deep waters.

We were headed out from the flat in London to that event we were talking about. It was fairly early in the morning. You had used your phone to hail an Uber, and I admired your loveliness while we waited. The frenetic sex earlier in the morning was even better than I had imagined.

As we climbed into the backseat of the car, I noticed the driver, in his late 20s I’d say, raise an eyebrow as you scrambled through the door. Your hotness did not escape his attention. Nor I suspect our significant age difference as he took a quick glance at me.

I smiled to myself. I had an idea. You know the kind, the way my mind works.

As the ride progressed, I got into a bit of a chit chat with the driver. Even though he was responding to me, I could tell all his glances in the rearview mirror were of you.  You were a little sleepy and were resting your pretty locks on my shoulder.

“Oh, this will be so much fun”, I thought to myself.

As the driver and I carried on our conversation, he was a little surprised at where we were going and what we would be doing. Well, in truth, he was surprised that I would be going and doing that. But it happens a lot … I surprise people with what I can do.

“She is lovely, isn’t she?” I asked as I caught him once again eyeing you.

“Umm … why yes she is, Mate. Quite.”

“Yes, I think so, too.” I answered. I turned to you as I said it, and you smiled up at me with those big dark eyes of yours.

“Say, can I ask you a favor, then?” I queried.

“Why sure, Mate … what would you like?”

“Well, it’s probably against the rules and everything, but we’ve just seen each other for the first time in a very long time … and well … you know how it is … ”

“Sir?” he asked.

I think he had an inkling, but the age thing was confusing him.

“Well, I wondered if you’d be ok if this beautiful flower pleasured me for a bit?”

“Oh! Dunno ’bout that. Despite whot you may pfink, that dudn’t really happen that often, duz it! And not in the mornings … evah”

“Well, maybe you could just look the other way. Just this once,” I said. “And if you really want, as long as you promise not to get into a crash, you can look, too.”

“Oh! That duz it then, Mate! Be my guest. Enjoy my hospitality.”

I could hear you snicker just before you released your safety belt and bent your head over my lap. You were going to enjoy this, too.

You slid my pants and shorts down to my knees. I was, of course, already erect. It doesn’t take long with you. As your tongue followed the path of my vein up and down I couldn’t help but gasp, then let out a contented sigh. Already the driver was taking stolen glimpses.

Your tongue next circled my head, then you took me quite deep right away. My loins were already on fire as I pushed my hips up towards your face.  Ever the lady, you licked the drools of saliva rolling down my cock. Looking up at me, you gave me your naughty wink.

I wouldn’t be long, especially when you began to murmur as your pace up and down was being ratcheted up.  I had one hand on your head and the other grasping the safety handle above the window.

From up front I heard a whispered “Bloody ‘ell.” All three of us were having a good time.

I cried out. I bucked. I came.

Looking up I could see the driver’s smile in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  You looked up at me again and swallowed hard.

You squeezed yourself back into your seat and smiled … “There, feel better, now?” you asked. Your seatbelt clicked into place.

“Alright then, we’re here!” the driver said as the car slowed. “Now that was a fun trip, wodn’t it!”

You slid out of the car first, to tap your phone.

Smiling at the driver with your patented sexy grin I heard you say “Yes, thank-you, it was! I certainly needed that.”

As I walked past you two, I caught his look at me. Surprised? Jealous? Amazed? Puzzled and bewildered? Yep, I think so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mid Week Fantasizing … Is It Any Wonder?

I awoke this morning with a smile. It struck me that I had been dreaming. About you. About us.

One of those explicit dreams I have from time to time. I guess you are on my mind. But time, distance, and circumstance keeps us apart. I suppose in my mind is the only place we will meet in the near future.

You were kneeling in front of me … what else is new? I unzipped my jeans and let you have me. You licked slowly and deliberately, across every inch of surface.  While watching the reaction in my face with those wide eyes of yours.

My hands were in your hair. But I was not directing your head. My hands were only along for the ride. This was your show. You most definitely were in charge.  You were doing what you wanted. What you craved. What you needed. What we needed.

You took all of me. Slowly and deliberately. Prolonging our pleasure. Feasting at your own pace. I know you liked having the control.  I voiced no complaint.

Is it any wonder?

Mid Week Fantasizing — The 3some

These posts (Mid Week Fantasizing) are all about fantasies. They definitely are not a documentary of my past actions. More like a potential road map of where I’d like to go … maybe.

A while ago SBW (Strikingly Beautiful Woman) and I were chatting. We talked about how she has a dream of going to Paris. And having me fuck her there on a balcony from which you can see the Eiffel Tower.

And then she has fantasies. Secret fantasies. HOT secret fantasies.

She confided in me about one that no one else knows. How much do I love that? Knowing a beautiful woman’s hot, secret fantasy! Particularly when I’m part of it! The convo went something like this …

SBW: I’d even share you with another woman. But she’d have to be VERY hot. With small tits.

Marty: You’d share me in a three-some?

SBW: Yes, I would. I’m an Alpha woman. But I would want your cum. I think that would be super hot!

SBW: You watching…me watching… I’d like that.

Marty: You both sucking my cock at the same time? That would be hot for me

SBW: Me too. Mmmm…you would like that

Marty: What would you want to do with the other woman?

SBW: I’ve never kissed one. I bet it would be so soft. I’d like to undress her. But she’d have to have small tits.

Marty: Why small tits?

SBW: That’s just what I like. With great nipples

Marty: What would you do after you undressed her? Are you going to strip for me?

SBW: We’ll let her undress me. I want her panties still on. Then I’ll touch her tits… softly first. Before kissing them. Licking her nipples. And then taking them in my mouth.

Marty: What if she’s stroking me while you do this?

SBW: Mmmm…even better. I want her to suck on my nipples. To see a beautiful girl with my nipple in her mouth would be so fucking hot! I’ll run my fingers through her hair. Tug on it. And bring her back up to my mouth. Lots of kissing. Would you like this?

Marty: I would. But I’d need something for my cock to do

SBW: We won’t leave you out. I promise. You know how much I want your cock in my mouth. But I’ll let her suck you. While I kiss her stomach. And make my way to her panties. Inhaling her.

Marty: Is she shaved?

SBW: Yes, totally. I want to kiss her through the lace. Feel how wet I’m making her panties. I’ll use my fingers to push them aside…but I want to keep them on. Then I’m going to watch you while you watch my finger slide into her pussy for the first time.

Marty: You know I love to watch you

SBW: I wonder if it will feel like my own… I’m so curious. And I want to watch your face. While your dick is in her mouth. And my finger is slipping in and out of her pussy.

Marty: Oh? No jealousy?

SBW: No! Because you’re mine. She’s just a toy. I want to taste her. I’ve only tasted myself…I’m so curious.  I’m going to take off her panties. You’re going to take off mine and put your fingers inside me. And then put them in your mouth.

SBW: I’ll lay her down and be on all fours between her spread legs. I’m going to lick her for the first time while you drive your cock into me. I want her knees up by her ears so I can lick her from her ass to her clit.

Marty: You want to rim her don’t you

SBW: I do.

SBW: Then it will be time for her to taste me on your cock. I want to watch her lick me off of your dick. Do you want to fuck her? While I sit on her face?

Marty: Perhaps I just might.

SBW:  I want you to fuck her. I’m turned around so I can look you in the eye while you fuck her. Don’t you dare cum in her!.

Marty: While you’re on her face I’ll withdraw and put my cock in your mouth.

SBW: Good, I’ve missed your cock.

Marty: Then you can taste her as I cum down your throat

SBW: I‘m going to cum while she’s eating my ass and I’m gulping down your cock.

Whew  that was very hot … there was a bit of a break and then later that evening she said:

SBW: I said some kind of fucked up kinky sex stuff

I, of course, reassured her that her words and thoughts were no such thing. They were a fantasy. A very hot one, too.

Previously we had had some discussion on the likelihood of a female trainer she sometimes uses as a part of our potential 3some. It really wasn’t going anywhere because SBW (despite her active mind!) tends to be a little timid in person.

But Marty isn’t quite as shy. I think I may have found the perfect 3rd. My … ahem … Rolodex has the just the one. Her name is Amor Rose.

 

For Blog Pic

Small firm tits, 32C, deliciously fit (she’s a half marathoner), and very, very beautiful, with long dark hair. Late 30s. Her nipples are outstanding, large, projecting, and dark chocolate colored. SBW will love her. And Amor Rose will love SBW. And Marty? Why he gets to make everyone happy. A win-win-win.

And let’s do it in Paris. Because that would be le glaçage sur le gateau.

 

 

 

 

 

Midweek Fantasizing – The Portrait

f69bb7a5004e07fb8630c02b4eb07c0aShe was at the coffee shop. Catching up on some writing. One of those incredible beauties, don’t you know. Shoulder length blonde hair, slightly tussled. Maybe she had come from a workout because she was wearing exercise clothes that hid her figure. But didn’t really, because they actually revealed a lot. That her body was likely as close to perfection as you could imagine. She could have been in her mid 30s, but looked younger. Beauties have a way about them, they always look younger than they are.  She was probably a stay at home mom, hence the afternoon Starbucks break on the way home.

She frowned into her laptop as she reread something she had written.  Absently she looked away from her screen, to the right. He was staring at her, but looked down when she saw him. He was sort of cute, in a nondescript way.  Dressed casually in jeans. Short brown hair. Maybe about her age.

She went back to what she was doing. Though after a minute or so she couldn’t help but look out of the corner of her eye. He was definitely staring.

She pulled out her phone. She texted her lover

“I’m in Starbucks and there’s a guy staring at me”

“That’s not unusual.” her lover texted back. “You’re a stunning woman.”

“I think he’s drawing a picture of me … ”

“Cool!” the lover wrote back.

After several seconds the lover wrote, “I have an idea for you. This is what you’ll do.”

After she read his next text the woman wrote him, “You’re terrible. No wonder I love you. I’ll do it.”

She pushed her chair back and got up. The young man watched her in anticipation as she walked over to his table. He shuffled his papers away.

“You’re drawing me, aren’t you?” she asked, looking down at him unemotionally with her big grey-blue eyes.

“Yes … yes … I … am”, he stammered.

“Well I want you to know something.”

” … yes?” he whispered.

“My lover told me to tell you I am his very hot submissive. You think I’m hot don’t you?”

“Yes … I do.” he managed to get out.

“And he’s older.  A lot older. But oh sooo … ” her voice trailed off as she was momentarily lost in thought.

“And when I wake up in the morning the first thing I think of is sucking his beautiful cock.”

The artist’s eyes opened wide, and his face flushed.

“My Dom just thought you should know. It might better infuse your art. He thought the sketch would be so much more intimate if you better understood your model.”

The artist smiled wanly, and nodded as he looked up at her above him. He didn’t say anything.

She turned and walked back to her laptop. Started writing again. Smiling secretly. She was a good girl.

 

 

 

Midweek Fantasizing … The Letter

This hasn’t happened. It’s a total figment of my imagination. I just kind of day dreamed it the other day.

Cassandra came to see me in my small corner of your globe. It was just a quick visit on a Saturday. She managed to stop off for a day on the return trip from some business thing-ma-jig she was on. So I thought I had better make good use of the time I had with her.

We strolled leisurely down by the water, close and occasionally touching, but no PDA. Neither of us are really into that. She was enjoying seeing me relaxed in my village, in my element, where I’m very comfortable.

The mid-afternoon sun was becoming quite warm so I suggested it was time for a cold beer. I had planned ahead. Cassandra thought this was a superb idea and we headed for a nearby bar. The pub’s outdoor patio was lively and perfect for people watching, a Cassandra-favored activity. I knew this, but instead I suggested we find a table inside.

“Why Darling? It’s so lovely outside. And lots of people.” She knows that in my climes, we need to take advantage of any sunshine we can get.

But I was firm … “No Baby, I want to go inside. I think my pale skin has had enough exposure for today.”

“Ok” she pouted, “if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I sweetly smiled. I knew it wasn’t making my girl happy, but I rarely do things without a purpose. Cassandra well knows this, but for some reason she didn’t further question my choice.

We found a small table at one end of the bar. It was far from crowded inside and we had our pick of spots. The pub’s dark wood finishes all around would be very warm and cozy on a chilly winter day, but this afternoon they lent an air of coldness and an almost gloomy vibe. Cassandra was not her usual beaming self. I just inwardly smiled. The server approached, raised her eyebrow toward me, and indicated in the affirmative when I ordered two pints of a local brew.

“Oh look,” I said. “Maybe there will be a group performing” as I nodded to a nearby corner where there was a stand up microphone sandwiched between an electric keyboard and two large congas.

“Hmmpphh. Maybe. I hope so.” Cassandra retorted.

And just as she finished snarling her words 3 grizzled veterans of the 1960s strolled up to the mike and instruments. My kind of guys!

“This could be fun!” I said, hoping to drum up some interest. No reaction.

The “boys” immediately broke into Ray Charles’ “Georgia On My Mind“. And it was good!

The songs began to roll out out in a constant stream, mostly blues, and then some older pop hits. These boys were taking no breaks!

Now Cassandra and I are alike, and at the same time,  so very different. I’ve touched on these things before, but I should also tell you she plays the piano. Classical. Me? I’m musical, too. Ask me anything about the British Invasion.  Same part of the brain I figure … only a different mix and quality of neurons.

Cassandra’s mood was rapidly improving despite the dark interior of the pub.

“The singer reminds me so much of Joe Cocker” she chimed in as she tapped her foot to the groove happening a few feet away.

“Mmmmhmm” I answered while slurping my ale, trying not to choke as I chuckled.

She was correct, of course. He sounded a lot like Joe … a small register higher, and an itsy bit less of a rasp, fewer arm and hand gestures, but the similarity was irrefutable.

“I love Joe Cocker!”

“I know” I smiled. “You used to hear him while riding in your daddy’s truck when you were small.”

“That’s right! How did you remember that?”

I smirked downing another sip. Cassandra was full-on giggly-happy right now.

I told her how I had first been exposed to and got into Joe Cocker, as a young barman in a South London pub, pouring pints while watching him on telly on Top Of The Pops.

The band then did an unbelievable rendition of Ben E King’s Stand By Me. I think this was going to be a Celebrate the Great Ones Recently Gone Saturday for the band.

There was pronounced applause from every corner of the room. The bar was totally full and fully rockin’ at this point. The singer smiled broadly. As the cheering ended, the singer looked towards me. I smiled and not so discretely nodded back to him.

In my mind, Joe Cocker was absolutely the best rock interpreter of other peoples’ songs. He covered songs as well as, or often better, than the original. Think about With A Little Help From My Friends, or You Are So Beautiful, Ain’t No Sunshine, and several others. Including the one that I had prerequested … heh heh … The Letter.

On cue, the piano played the familiar opening chords and I watched as Cassandra’s eyes lit up. She knew what was coming …

“Come on, Baby! Let’s dance!” I shouted.

“Yes!” she laughed. “I don’t care if we’re the only ones!”

This is one thing Cassandra and I have never done … danced.

And we did! My lord she’s a great dancer. Such wonderful rhythm as I twirled her and swung her, as I hugged her, I dipped her. We danced cheek to cheek, we laughed. And I watched the older audience eat it up watching us … the vintage male with a few moves charming the hot blonde babe.  The raised eyebrows and nods of first disbelief, then comprehension.

All to The Letter.

We had to leave. The bulge in my jeans was much too obvious now. It needed to be taken care of. ASAP.

Here’s the late great man himself. This reminds me I need to get one of those hot, black female bass players for myself.

 

Midweek Fantasizing … So I Picked Up this Hot, Young Chick in a Bar

montana%20bar%20Miles%20city[1]

I walked into the bar after my long day on a Monday night in a far off town I was visiting. Just off the highway. Several pickups parked outside. None of them foreign pickups either, I might add.

Inside, the bar had a real cowboy look to it. Even in the dim light I could tell this place was a bit of a dump. But it felt like a comfy dump, if you know what I mean. The U-shaped bar straight ahead only had 4 or 5 people around it, and there was a couple playing pool off to the right on one of the tables. A small, empty stage was further back. Probably used on the weekends, not enough customers tonight that’s for sure.

I sat my sorry ass down on a stool on the right side of the bar. There was no one on that side, so that suited my wish to be alone. I was also close to the tiny, open kitchen so it would be easy to sample the burgers and ribs. Yep, you guessed it. I’m a real foodie, too.

The woman serving behind the bar was probably all of 22. Very cute, very blonde to her shoulders, very built, and sporting a very low cut top. I don’t mind saying my view was going to be excellent. Even when she served the other side of the bar, her shorts-clad tight ass would merit all of my nuanced focus.

Very Blonde pulled my draught while I studied every inch of her. Not much could go wrong with that I figured.

As I lovingly sipped the tall cool one, just for a second I took my eyes away from Very Blonde. I nearly choked! I know my eyes widened. Directly across from me on the other side of the bar, nursing a beer was another blonde. While Very Blonde was young and cute, Far-Side Blonde had short hair, maybe a decade or so more in years, and the perfectly beautiful face that suited the cool sophisticate she obviously was. How could I tell all that from 40 feet in a dimly lit bar? Years and years of experience, my friends. An expertise that has been finely developed and tuned.That rarely fails to deliver.

But, holy shit … Far Side Blonde was looking right at me over top of her beer. No! She couldn’t be! If she was earlyish 30s, she wouldn’t be looking at me. I may have had some looks back in the day, but to her, this vintage has way too many years in the barrel to even merit a glance from such a beauty. Probably watching the couple playing pool behind me, I bet. I turned to watch, too. But no, they were no longer playing. What gives here?

And what is Far Side Blonde doing here? Not exactly her normal milieu I’m guessing. How did I miss her when I came in? You’re losing it, Marty-boy! Big time. Distracted by the shiny 22-year old baubles. That’s 5 minutes of high quality gawking you’ve just squandered.

I’m trying not to be too obvious as I stare at her. Right! You’re not obvious at all Marty, my friend. She’ll never notice.

Wait! She’s getting up … is she leaving? No, can’t be. Her glass is still 2/3 full. Umm … she’s walking around the bar, my way. Gulp, now what am I gonna do?

Oh, whew … she’s going to the bathroom. They’re not far from where I’m sitting, near the pool tables. That was close. Did she glance at me and give me a half smile as she walked by? No, I don’t think so. Your imagination is playing tricks on you again, Marty.

I went back to my beer and took a long sip. Was I perspiring? I think I was. Not only was Far Side Blonde stunningly beautiful, but she was extremely well built, too. Oh my! Oh my! Oh my!

I was lost in inappropriate thoughts of her when I felt a presence to my right.

“Hi there!. How are you?” I heard in a dulcet, silky tone.

There she was … beside me, touching my elbow with her hand. I was aghast!

“Ummmm …. ummmm … h-h-hello” I stuttered in response. I just stared into her eyes.

“I watched you come in.”

“You d-did?” I asked in an amazed voice.

“I did. I haven’t seen you in here before”.

“Um … no … I’m just here for a few days. Taking a course.”

“Oh? A course? What on?”

I hesitated.

“Uhhh … uhhhh … uhhhh … I … for …get.” I stammered

Far Side Blonde chuckled. “Oh, I see. I’m sure it will come back to you.”

“Probably. Later” I added.

“Is your hotel near here?” this beauty asked me

“Oh, yes. Yes, it is. Why do you ask?”

“Because I want you to whisk me out of this place, and ravish me all night long in your hotel room” she affirmed. “Then repeat in the morning.”

“You do?” I gasped. I sat there stunned.

“I do! So let’s pay our bills and get out of here. Now!”

This actually hasn’t happened, of course. But as I was driving home from work, this idea popped into my head. I think it would be fun to enact with Cassandra. Pick her up in a certain bar she is acquainted with. Or her me. Whichever works. Fun to play out, no?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midweek Fantasizing … I’m Focused

posting_41603_lg[1]I’ve had this image in my mind for the past couple of weeks. In fact I can’t get it out of my mind.

I see her clearly. Above me. Fabulous breasts hanging down to my face. Unbelievable! She looks down smiling.

I kiss.

I lick.

I suck.

I touch.

I fondle.

I play with.

I pull.

I tweak

I twist.

I nibble.

I bite.

I gorge.

She cums.

But that’s irrelevant,  because it’s all about what I want. Right now.

I want more of course. I adore all her parts and crevices. But at this moment that’s my focus. Which is a bit strange for a multi-faceted lover like me.

I want what I want.

And I want those breasts and nipples. For me.

And I want to send her home with bite marks and bruises. Like I’ve done before.

Mid Week Fantasizing (X) — Of Opposite Poles and Dichotomies

This isn’t exactly fantasizing. It did happen this past summer. But as I awoke with a very hard erection this morning, thoughts of the hotel room came flooding back. Pay it Forward at Joyce Gordon Gallery backside of flier For well more than an hour she had had an orgasm every several seconds. No more than 15 to 20 seconds apart for 60+ minutes. I had fed her voracious need with my cock, my tongue, her vibrator, and for the longest time, my fingers and hand. Four fingers worked best. Pressing her g-spot firmly sent her over the precipice and usually meant a warm, powerful gush into my open palm.  I was falling deeply for her as I studied her face the whole time. I spoke softly to her, I whispered my love in her ear.

There were no words back, only slight nods in acknowledgement, the pleasure too numbing.  Placid, classic beauty shifted through the seconds into a wanton, needing goddess of the feminine divine. She arched, she contorted, her green orbs rolled back. The slightly parted lips revealing the pearls of her teeth rounded into a perfect “O” before the animal groan to her climax. The off white hotel room’s walls surely were over the saturation point absorbing the flood of orgasmic grunts. While one hand pressed in her pussy, my other would gently enclose her slim neck, or circle and tweak her erect nipples. Fingers lovingly stroked her cheek and then could slide down  and brush along her abdomen and drop to fondle along the inside of a thigh. Each light touch of my hand stoked the embers of ecstasy that coursed through her body.

At last my own wantonness began to return. I could feel the hardness happening. I half chuckled at nature’s perversity, the female’s ability to orgasm almost continuously when lovingly stimulated contrasted to the male’s requirement to regroup and refresh.

I told her to get on her hands and knees. She complied without a word and languidly, turned and raised herself.  I moved her to the side of the bed. As I felt her soft skin along the length of her back and my fingers caressed her upturned ass, I thought of the contrast she would be feeling as my steel like erection would enter her. I forewarned of the abrupt change with a quick, hard push down on her back, driving her head into the pillow.

I grabbed her arms and clasping her wrists with my left hand, I pinned them behind her back and jammed her down harder with my right.  Then using my right to guide, I slowly entered her dripping, waiting pussy. I heard … I felt … her gasp. Pumping slowly into her, my erection was stiffening like mad, as though I hadn’t already cum hard several times earlier.

The room held nothing but contrasts. Dim natural light slipping between darkened curtains shadowing the white lovers’ bodies. The young, beautiful, soft and nubile … the old, hard and grizzled. The warm … the cold. The south … the north.

I watched my reflection in the grey glass of the picture across the room. Taut torso, bending backward before each thrust. The act, a physical need as old as the beginning of the species, yet the emotional bond as deep as the human soul can dive. How can these polar opposites possibly attract? How can a momentary union connect and bond two so disparate creatures together perpetually as one?

Her breathing moved up tempo, her moaning intensified. I could feel her as she clenched around my hardness. Cries and gurgling were pushing me to the edge. As I continued to hold her wrists tightly, the walls suddenly echoed with her shout as she came hard.  Two, maybe three, probably four pumps later I, too cried out savagely. I held her, releasing her wrists, with one arm around the front of her body, my head resting gingerly on her back. More whispers in her ear. Then we decoupled, her head safely cached upon my shoulder.

Sweet, soft words and tender grasps and touching. I kissed her forehead, and then her lips Her breasts begged for my hands, her nipples my fingers. The touching commenced anew. The embers inside began to glow. This goddess was far from sated.

I knew four fingers would work best.

Midweek Fantasizing (IX) – The Timetable

2d417995291c1c0fa1855c745c403284bbce01c9_large[1]It’s hot in Paris in August. But you don’t mind. You revel in the heat. And your big, beautiful smile hasn’t left your stunning visage since you arrived 2 days ago.

And when you are happy, I’m all smiles, too. Your love of the museums, the art, the history, the monuments is infectious. I know you are having the time of your life. You’ve always dreamed of being here. And well, here you are!

I chuckle every morning when I see the schedule you’ve drawn up for us each day. All the things we need to accomplish so our time is well spent not only in this magnificent city, but together, too. But I make sure you leave time for the cafes and people watching, a fine restaurant or two, and back to the apartment to be tucked in by 10 pm.

Because then we are on my schedule. I have a timetable too. Great sex before 11. More at 12:30. Again at 2 am. Probably an intense session between 3:30 and 4:00. And here we are at 5:30. Your luscious ass is calling me. It truly needs to be filled.

Another wonderful start to a perfect day.

Midweek Fantasizing [VIII] – The Finish

I answer the door holding my breath. The wait all morning has been almost unbearably long. You are visiting on your lunch hour.

We kiss at the door, then stride to the bed together. I lie on the bed as you come around and continue kissing and fondling me. I have my hands all over your luscious body and then take firm control of your heavy, heaving breasts.

As you stand next to the bed, you slide off my jeans then grab hold of my hardening cock as it slips through the opening in my boxers. A small gasp-grunt escapes my lips while you kiss me fiercely.  Then with a deft move of your left hand you pull the boxers down to my knees. I complete the task, then remove my shirt. I lie displayed in front of you.

Before I know it my hard cock is in your mouth and your lips are caressing it’s length, top to bottom. Bottom to top. You pump my cock like you mean it; your tongue rolls around the shaft, the head, you lick like a panting dog in the summer. I arch into your mouth in an unwitting aid to have you gobble my length. In no time you have me in a frenzy I can’t control. But you can. As your hand fondles my balls you steal a glance at my face. I am practically drowning as the suction through your lips pulls the soul of my need into the cool olive pool of your eyes.

Your grip becomes firmer, your pace intensifies. I want only to give you my release. I cry to finish. I crave completion. The tight palm of you hand twists the shaft as you inhale all I can give. You have had me orgasm five times in the past 16 hours, the last time five hours ago just before you left for work. For an antique I have done well. Vintage Ferraris can still perform impeccably. They have been built to amaze. It’s in their DNA.

I yearn to empty into your mouth, but I can not. I can feel the semen rush to the gate, but the path seems barricaded. It is as if an internal battering ram smashes relentlessly at the exit, demanding freedom. But the door is barred, my glory imprisoned.

My frustration has reached its limits. My cock exits your startled mouth as I rise from the bed. As we stand facing each other I gesture for you to remove your remaining clothes. I need to see your stunning figure in all its glory. While you strip I turn and grab a pillow from the bed, tossing it to the floor between us.

I love the look of pure lust in your eyes as you look at me and slowly kneel on the pillow. Still tempting me with your eyes your right hand slides around my stiff, eager cock and slides it between your moving lips. I hear you gently sigh. I respond with moans of my own. My hands grasp your hair.  The sight of you kneeling before me, taking me all in, the feel as you speed up your motions sends me, finally, over the edge.

“Baby! Baby!” I gasp

I finish.

Your lunch break is over.