By Mark David Blum, Esq.

(Every once in a while, a writer has to test his skills in a new format. Using hard language and stiff subjects can test a writer’s skills. On a dare, this is an attempt at producing a sexually explicit story that is both scintillating and titillating. Make no mistake, the contents are XXX but the intent was see if i could fuse pornography into an actual story. Warning: XXX content).

TONIGHT YOU'RE MINE ... COMPLETELY

Its just another ugly night following another ugly day. Snow has been falling incessantly all day; torturing me, teasing me, punishing me for daring to hope for spring. Its cold, dark, gloomy and nothing is alive outside. And here I am, once again, face first into this computer and daring to stare outside searching for an end to the madness.

Nobody would dare venture out in this blizzard. The locals don't call it such as they are as cold and frozen as is the weather. But for me, the spawn of countless days on the warm sunny beaches of Southern California, the misery is endless. I am a prisoner; trapped, alone and really really cold.

Yet, throughout all this blinding white and unblemished darkness, a single light burns. Next door. I can see it as I have many times over the past few months since she first arrived in the neighborhood. Almost by clockwork, she will wander into her bedroom at 8:00 p.m. sharp, open the curtains to her sliding glass door and let the warm sunny glow of a dim bulb shatter the blackness of the night.

I don't know why she does that. Clearly, she is intelligent and smart enough to know that people can see her. Maybe that is her plan. Maybe, just maybe, she wants to be seen; to be noticed. Perhaps, just perhaps, she is wanting me to cast an eye upon her. Or, it is all a cruel joke seeking to add more frustration and anxiety upon these frozen bones of mine.

As dark as is the night, it pales next to the black nasty thoughts found deep in my soul. Many a time over these months, when that little bulb would awaken the night and she would appear, more than one dark nasty thought after another would rise up from inside me. Each time, I try to choke it down, forget it, and return to my chores. But, it never works. Each time the curtains open, I find myself mesmerized and trapped by the sight of her.

It is truly amazing the power of the mind. I have never spoken to this woman nor have I been within ten feet of her. Yet, I find myself being drawn in by her. Every time the curtains are dragged aside and her image is standing there staring into the blackness, I become transfixed. My mind races. Why? Why does she do that? Does she want something? Is she communicating with someone? Is there a message I am missing? My mind becomes frantic in its search for clues.

"Dammit, I can't concentrate". The words rush out of my mouth before realizing I am talking to myself. But do I move? No. Instead, I remain transfixed by the image framed in the sliding glass door, a mere twenty feet away. She is still there; this time longer than normal. But, is she really there? Is it really longer than usual? Or am I becoming obsessed; seeing things that do not exist and allowing the power of her mind to overtake my own? Help me, please.

Now I know I am imagining things. She just smiled at me. Its impossible because I am sitting here in the near dark. Invisible to a backlit person and certainly invisible behind the narrow slits of the Levalors. Yet, I am not mistaken; she smiled at me. She did.

If you could see her, then perhaps you too can understand my obsession. She is beautiful. Arguably not the Victoria's Secret kind of textbook beauty, but she is moreso more wondrous than the cookie cutter models that flow across my monitor. Its not just her blond hair, or that sensual smile or even her warm body. Nor is the beauty found solely in eyes that twinkle so brightly that they shame the clear summer night sky. Clearly, she has all the "vital" parts that make a man ogle a woman. There is something more, something that outshines that dim bulb which is presenting her to me tonight. And it is something coming from deep within her that is radiating outward.

But I can't allow myself to let go. She is married as am I. "So what?" Love and marriage are forever. Yet, passion, true passion, comes along very rarely if ever. Does she hold that passion? Is she the key to some dark inner part of me which yearns for release? I do not know. How can I; sitting here with my face now smashed against the cold glass of my window? Someday, I will have to approach her and find out.

Not tonight. She does not want that tonight. Now I know I am crazy because I am starting to sense her. I can feel her around me. She is here. With all the snow and darkness and bitter cold between us, something warm is penetrating. Some "thing" is snaking its way through the distance and is touching me inside. Tonight, she is going to let me in.

Still looking out her glass enclosure, smile unbroken, I see her lift a small glass of blackish fluid to her mouth. Slowly, she sips, never breaking her gaze with me. When she lowers the glass, I can see her tongue slide slowly out between two sensuous lips and gently lick the remnants of the black liquid from her mouth. I felt that. Now I am convinced. The bitch is teasing me.

Her next move is even more surprising. She dips two fingers into the black liquid and brings her hand to her mouth. Slowly, she then traces the liquid across her mouth with her fingertips and her tongue gives chase. Then, just as quickly, both fingers disappear inside her mouth and from the collapsed cheeks, I can tell she is sucking them gently. Somewhere through all the ugliness between our two windows, I can hear the gentle sucking sounds coming from her mouth. It is making me crazy. (As if I am not so already insane for even thinking she is communicating this to me and is not, instead, just daydreaming of her own true love).

I have to sit down. Turning off all the lights in my room, I am enveloped in the utter blackness and invisible to her. Yanking up the blinds, I watch intensely. Behind me is a hard wooden chair and since I am suffering already, I should sentence myself to further discomfort. "Fine", up comes the chair. My wide butt is firmly engulfed by wood and my eyes are now undisturbed in their efforts to be filled with her image.

Almost as if on cue, she too slides a chair to the window. But, she does not sit. Of course not. Sitting there and looking at me, telepathically communicating would be insufficient tonight. Tonight, she intends to use something other than her mind to snare me.

I feel helpless. Slowly I feel my own sense of control being usurped by her own magic. My hands feel as though they are tied tight to the arms of the chair. My legs are frozen in place. This room has become my prison from which I can do nothing in my own defense. She has taken control of me and made me her prisoner. All I can do is sit and watch and beg her to not abandon me like this.

As always, she does not let me down. My heart skips a beat and my stomach plummets to my knees as I watch her turn around and wander off. For a brief moment, I am really afraid. Did she leave me? Am I to be tossed aside? My fears soon subside as she returns wearing nothing but a dark brown robe tied tight but not closed all the way. She is showing me herself. She wants me to notice her. And I do. I focus my gaze upon her and see nothing but the warm glow of her skin where it peaks from behind her robe. The gentle roundness of her breasts is visible though they are completely hidden from me. Her legs are slightly parted and her arms are casually at her sides.

It is her hands, however, that soon get my attention as one of them is not empty. "Something" is in her hands, though its form and description still elude me. Whatever it is, she gently sets it down on the chair -- apparently saving for later. In one quick movement, the knot on her robe is opened and the sash droops to her side. But nothing happens. Her robe remains in place though there is a white shimmer running up its center. My eyes start to focus and I follow the trail of white from her inviting neck, slowly down the valley between her rising and falling breasts, down across what appears to be a soft tummy, and then down lower, where through a faint crack in her robe, I think I can see her pussy. I can sense her hair is short and her vaginal lips are starting to swell. And, if I am not mistaken, I can see a glint of light dancing off a droplet of moisture clinging to her pubic hair.

Almost as if knowing my every thought and sensation, I sit helpless and watch her raise her hand and retrace every movement of my own eyes. Again, she dances her fingers across her lips, sliding them in for effect and then removing them dampened with saliva. She then drags her fingers gently over her chin, down along her neck and between her breasts. Doing so causes her robe to part just a bit more exposing more of her flesh for my visual consumption. Her hand then moves down across her tummy, flattening out so all her fingers are splayed. Down moves her hand, down moves my gaze. As her fingers cross over her pubic mound and disappear between her legs, I feel a rush of blood into my cock. I watch transfixed as her hand remains between her legs yet two of her fingers are now no longer in view. Her eyes are wider now, her smile more evil. I am in big trouble!

For what seemed like forever, her hand never left its warm haven. Though it did start to move in its own rhythm, her hand remained firm. The other one grasped tightly onto the back of the chair for apparent support. My own hand wants desperately to mimic hers and move to my own pleasure points. I am, however, unable to do so out of mere fascination with what is transpiring.

My body is aching for her but I know the rules. Tonight, I am hers. I am her prisoner; trapped into serving her. Though her intentions are obviously to satisfy herself, I don't think the looming orgasm is for her. It is a gift for me. To enjoy it though, I must remain immobile. This is what she wants. This is what I will do. If I were to go for my own selfish desires, while the release would be pleasurable, I would lose her. If I ran over to her right now, she would pretend she did not know me. Certainly, I would not be treated to this display of raw passion and energy. She wants this control and my own release will have to wait; at least until I have her permission.

When I see her hand finally remove itself from her sex, the wetness of her fingers does not escape my view. Again, I watch her dip these same two fingers into her drink and again, raise her hand to her mouth and start to suck gently. This is more than I can handle. I stand, remove my last shreds of clothing, and sit again for the remainder of her show. My hands grasp firmly onto the arms of the chair, my feet remain as if glued to the floor. The only part of my body free to move is my growing cock which is right now sliding slowly from side to side with the ebb and flow of my rising passion.

Again, as if she can see me and my every move, her hand suddenly escapes her mouth and she quickly peels off her robe. As it falls to the floor, I am treated to her innermost secrets. She is offering me parts of her that are saved for only those very few and special persons who have found their way into her heart. Tonight, I too am being invited into her; an invitation I graciously accept.

I can see how very comfortable she is with herself. She obviously knows her body and enjoys the pleasures and joys that it gives her. Her heart and soul are open to me; laid bare before my eyes. Being nude in front of a total stranger does not bother her. Being nude in front of me appears to be something of which she takes great pride. Her smile is more somber now. Her breasts, led by rigid pink nipples, are directed at me. I can see how her breathing has quickened. Quietly, I watch her slowly take another sip.

How I wish she would invite me over. If she only knew of the passion and desire that has been building in me. Can she possibly know how I would devote my every waking thought and ounce of energy to pleasing her? Oh, the things I would do; the ways I would touch her; the pure passion I would bring to the surface. Oh well, instead I am her prisoner and she is hell-bent on doing these things to me.

Now that was interesting. She wandered off. After nearly five minutes pass, me still sitting with my bare ass on the hard wood chair, my erection long since gone, she returns. Where did she go? What did she do? I know she is up to no good and I can't wait to discover her evil doings.

Off in the distance, I can hear a strong steady regular beat. Some fucking idiot is blasting his stereo. At this hour and right in the middle of my fantasy! My body can feel the slow steady "boom" "boom" "boom" of a deep bass. I search my mind for the source of the rhythm and who the fuck is ruining my night. But, its her. Her stereo. Her music. Her rhythms. I get it now. She turned on her stereo loud so I can share that base and rudimentary pounding beat that is moving her. I have been invited to share this and for only one reason: So my body can find her rhythms and move with her. My cock gently rolls from one thigh to the other.

As I feel the speed of my heart beat increase, I become once again transfixed with her own doings. Almost as if she can sense the rhythm of my heart, she starts to dance in synch. Hypnotically, rhythmically, her body sways to this distant beat ... her hips move gently side to side ... her hands rise up onto the top of her head. "I am yours; come enjoy me", is the message she is sending. She is luring me from my chair; teasing me from my trance; demanding my full and complete attention. Seeing that I am truly stuck and trapped in this chair, she decides to test me more. It is essential to her that I be truly trapped and helpless lest her fantasy be ruined. To test, she shifts from a slow sensual movement to one of a more cheap sexual nature. I am treated to slow hip thrusts and grinds, bent over and swaying breasts, a rear view of her soft round ass, and more than once, a clear view of her swollen labia. Hitchhiking on my sigh of exasperation come forth the words, "OK, you win, I am truly helpless and defenseless against your passion. I am yours!"

Instantly after I said those words, I regretted it. I heard a stirring in the distance which can only be a wife being woken from a deep sleep. "Shit! Not now", I said to myself. I must remember to keep my thoughts inside my head and share them with no one. As quickly as she woke, she fell back asleep; leaving me once again, alone with my thoughts.

The dream next door laughed. She knew what had happened and took delight in my quandary. Knowing full well I was her prisoner and helpless against her, she nonetheless giggled momentarily at my clumsy efforts. "You are completely mine" were the words she mouthed in my direction. Now understanding full well her intentions; I am to be not only physically helpless but mentally restrained as well. My mandatory silence will force my thoughts and emotions to boil inside me. This concentration of my feelings and passions in my head with no sign of release is starting to scare me. Its too intense.

Eventually, the song ends and before another begins, she moves around to the front of the chair. This time she sits; and not very lady-like neither. Sliding down into the chair, she sits with her legs parted wide. Her hands are gently wandering over her body; pinching her nipples harder, tracing little images over her chest and stomach, and moving across her hips to her thighs. Slowly, almost causally, she is gliding her fingertips over the soft silky sensitive parts of her inner thighs. As her hand gets closer to her pussy, I am watching her head fall back some. When her fingers finally find their way between her vaginal lips, she opens them wide for me to see the glistening passion running from deep within her.

Though I cannot see too much detail, I do know what she is doing. She has pulled her skin upward so that her hardening clitoris is unhooded and exposed for me. Her body language is telling me she wants me to kiss her. But I can't. It is obvious she wants to feel my own warm lips and probing tongue lose themselves in the folds of her flesh. But, I can't. She wants my cock deep inside her. But, I can't. I am helpless. She knows it and intends to take full advantage of it.

Almost as if on cue, with one hand holding open her passion, two fingers of the other one slip slowly inside. I felt that too. It seemed as if it were the head of my cock that just disappeared inside of her. As her fingers are pushed deeper inside, I can feel my cock transposing itself and slipping completely in her. When her fingers are totally swallowed up in her, so that nothing is showing of them and all that is visible is her palm resting on her clit, she returns her eyes to mine. I know what she is doing. Her fingers are curled up inside her, rubbing that "spot" she loves so well. Her palm is moving slowly in circles, putting pressure and friction on her swollen clit. Her other hand is covering the first, adding more weight on her clit and more pressure to help her fingers reach deeper.

When she lifts one foot on the chair, I almost lose it. There is now a steady stream of clear liquid running out of my cock. I am so excited that a simple breeze across the skin would make me shoot cum all over the window. Now I understand why I am being held prisoner. She knows how much she turns me on. She knows how much passion is in this darkened soul of mine. She wants to release the power and the energy. But, she knows, with what are her intentions, if I weren't her prisoner and my hands were free, I would have cum long ago and be snoring by now. Not tonight. Tonight, I am hers. She will not be disappointed.

Slowly, she pulls her fingers out of her delicious slit and drags them between her lips until they come to rest on her clit. Parted slightly, her fingers slide up along either side of her throbbing clit and then they close and tighten against it. Again, she is smiling at me; though her smiles are being constantly interrupted by jolts of pleasure running through her. I have not moved a muscle since I sat down and my body (along with my cock; albeit for different reasons) is stiff. Endlessly, I sit watching this beautiful sensual alive woman showing me the most intimate moments of her being. I can tell she is bringing herself close. She is taking me along with her but, unlike her, I won't be given the joy of a passionate release. I am still her prisoner.

Then, her body goes stiff. Ramrod stiff. Her legs lock together trapping her hand helplessly between them. Oh, how I long for that to be my face; my mouth, trapped in her sex. The joy and excitement of feeling her cum in my mouth would be indescribable. If only I could feel the spasms of pleasure sweep through her as she clutches and grabs at me. How I wish to hear her call out my name and reach for me as she becomes herself a prisoner to her own passions. I want her. I need her. I have to have her. But how?

As if she sensed my feelings and raw emotions, I see her mouth form a word. My mind tells me its my name being cried out in ecstasy. Her head falls back, her body shakes, her eyes slam shut, and I can see beads of sweat forming on her brow. That beautiful beautiful darling woman. She gave all of herself to me. Nothing was left behind. As the waves of pleasure slowly subside in her, her eyes open once again. A broad smile replaces the silent scream that had been on her lips just moments before.

Now what? She has gotten up from her chair and wandered off. My cock is rigid with desire, thick with passion, and boiling over. Am I now just to sit here? Is she through with me? The dim light at her place suddenly goes dark but the curtains do not close. She is still there ... somewhere. I know it, I can sense it. But where? What is she doing?

Next to me, the phone starts to ring. Who the fuck is calling at this hour? Again, I hear a stirring in the other room. Almost falling on my face, I lunge to grab the annoyance before the second bell. Fumbling with the receiver, I finally manage to blurt out a phlegm covered "hello?" I clear my throat and try again. "Hello?"

Its her. "Hi baby", she says. "Didja enjoy me?"

"Mmmmmmm", is about the most eloquent response I can muster.

Stifling her giggles, she inquires, "do you want more?"

"More?", I ask. "With you there and me here, how can there be more?" "What more is there unless you come here and let me love you the way you want."

"Shut up", she snarls. "If I wanted you to fuck me, you already would have. You are not allowed to touch me tonight. You are my prisoner and you know it. You will do as you are told and if you are nice, I will grant you the release you so crave. Until then, don't you dare move!"

Totally confused now, I sit docile and await further instructions. Clearly, this little game of hers is not yet over. Something more than mere voyeuristic impulses are driving her. She wants something. I need to know what it is.

She continued. "You know, since I have moved here, I have watched you. And I know you have been watching me -- every night."

"Yes but ...."

"But nothing", she replied. "When I go to bed at night, you are with me", she said softly. "I have sat here at night watching you watch me; wondering what you were thinking, wondering what it would be like to make love to you. Every night for the past months, I have laid in bed awake, thinking about your strong hands on me, your passionate kisses, your thick strong cock. Every night you send me to bed wet horny and alone. You have held me prisoner to your passion long enough. Tonight, its your turn."

Shaking my head in utter confusion; not knowing what I had done, I felt the last ounces of resistance leave me and I totally surrendered to her. What I might have lacked through two panes of glass and 20 feet of black cold snow, came rushing to me through the soft strains of her voice. She was here now; with me completely. My soul is now filled with her and there is nothing I can do to prevent her from crawling deep inside. I am hers; totally, completely and without reservation.

"Are you still sitting? That chair must be uncomfortable", she quizzed. "Nope, tis fine with me" was my articulate response. "You know", she started again .. "that I am still here in front of the window, I am still naked, I am still wet and open for you. I still want you. Can you see me?"

"Absolutely." I lied. Then, suddenly, a flicker of light. "Having an after-sex cigarette?", I inquired. In that flick of a bic, I could see her still there, still naked, still waiting for me. "No, I can't have an after-sex cigarette until its after sex and I don't think we are done yet," she perked. "No, we are NOT done yet," I responded. "We won't be done until you and me are joined and explode in a fireball of ecstasy."

Something was wrong. I could sense it in her voice. She was not in control any longer. There was not only a total lack of self control but I was no longer under her spell. Circumstances had changed. Though she had me frozen in time and space, and immobilized and silenced, it became evident that she no longer was in control of the situation. Whether this was due to an intentional decision on her part or whether the act of making her feelings known caused it, is of no moment. What was important was that despite her arrogance and efforts at domination, she was begging me to take over.

I think I know why. Sitting there in the warmth and safety of her own glass enclosure, she was making love with me. She felt me, she had me in her, with her, on her, and around her. Every fabric of her being was being tasted and touched until her body convulsed in the pleasure I was giving her from within my own darkened cave. But now, this wondrous creature still needed something; she needed to give. Although she knew she was giving me immense pleasure through the sterile glass, she and only she was being pleasured. her being, her very essence however, is not a selfish one and she cannot be truly satisfied until she has given as much as she has received.

Careful not to scare her off and to test my theory, I ventured to inquire how many times she came. "Just once" she responded. "Once is enough for me." Before she finished the last syllable, I interrupted with a what-shall-we-do-now interrogatory. "Do you want to fuck me?"

"Of course"

So I said, "you can't." You cannot have me for to do so, you must do as I tell you and I don' t think you are willing to do as you are told." Nothing. Dead silence at the other end of the receiver. So I continued, ....

"You are unfair to me. You force me into this chair, you make me sit silent and quiet while you tease me incessantly. Well darling, its now your turn. But, this time you shall derive your pleasure from pleasing me. You will do as I tell you in the manner in which I dictate. If you refuse or fail to comply, I will hang up the phone."

I was amazed that she was believing this. Nothing on this earth could have made me hang up that phone. There is not a force in nature strong enough to make me sever the connection I had with this woman. Yet, she responded favorably to my directives and almost dared me to try. Part of me is convinced she is still just toying with me and doing nothing more than allowing me my own fantasy with her.

All I wanted from her at this point was an instant replay; only this time with me in the same room. I wanted to see her dance for me. A sensual dance of sex, passion and lust. I wanted to watch close-up as she touched and enjoyed her body. I surely wanted her to endlessly touch me and tease me and make me crazed with desire. And, I wanted all of this to happen with me forcibly restrained.

As if she was reading my mind, she said, "y'know, you were not totally restrained. You still had yer eyesight and could thus process information and seek an escape from the fantasy building around you." "Huh?" I said perplexed. "Yep, there is still one more thing to do. I want you to close your eyes, sit back and relax. Do not open them, do not move, say nothing unless I tell you", was her direct command.

Now I am confused. I was in control. She was in control. She is in control and I am soon to be out of control. Never did she relinquish her authority over me. It was only a game for her. She let me feel free. She wanted a demonstration of my strength and to give me just a brief moment of a different fantasy; reserved for another day.

With her now whispering in my ear and my body without the ability to do anything but listen to her soft instructing voice, I was totally under her spell. She knew what I was feeling and honed right in on what was driving me most.

She asked, "are you still hard?" I shared with her the flaccid state I had moved to as I was experiencing a shift in this event. If smiles can be heard, then hers was loud in my ear. She was starting again. (I guess she finished her cigarette).

First thing she did was admit that she was not able to see me in the dark and that although she sensed my presence, she really never knew if I was there or not. I tried to respond but was quickly shut-up. She said she imagined me sitting there stroking my cock as she was touching herself and that it was her image of my strong cock, swollen and leaking, that helped push her over the edge. She also confessed that she was aware I was probably doing exactly what I did do ..... nothing. It became clear that it was now my turn.

Making it clear to me that she did not want a response, she asked how I liked watching her dance. In a series of rhetorical questions, she insisted on knowing how her dancing affected me. Did it excite me? Was I hard the whole time? She told me how excited I had become when she was touching herself and queried whether I wanted to cum when she did. All these questions caused a flood of passion to arise in me once again. The effect on my cock was instantaneous and predictable.

Her next comment surprised me. She asked whether I wanted her to come over. Again, not allowing me to answer, she told me to imagine she was there with me; in front me .. talking to me quietly. She directed me to keep my eyes closed and my hands on the arm rests of the chair. As I obediently complied, she started to talk to me about being there in the room with me. She asked whether I could see her dancing in front of me ... her breasts inches from my face. I was told in painful detail how she would move her body around me, making sure her skin would gently and casually brush against mine. Every phrase and word that came through the receiver involved her mouth kissing some part of my face or neck. My cock was so hard I though the skin would tear. I had been hard so long that it was starting to hurt.

The pain of my erection was soon forgotten when she told me how she would shift from sensual dancing to "dirty dancing". She told me in great detail how she would be sure to turn and bend over so I could see and maybe smell her delicious wet pussy. I was assured she would be close enough that her hair would be tickle my nose but if I so much as blinked, she would walk away. On and on she went, telling me about her wanting to straddle my lap and tease the head of my cock with her swollen pussy and rub her hard clit against me. But she also promised me that she would not let me inside her ... not yet.

There was still so much she wanted to do and she spared me no detail. When she got to where she was going to dip my cock in her favorite drink and then slowly lick the sweet dark liquid off of me, I almost came right then. Sensing this, she went in for the kill. For the next fifteen minutes, she treated me to a slow descriptive version of what I would feel when she knelt between my spread legs and started to tease my cock with her mouth and hands. Every word that came from her mouth went right through me like an electric shock. She told me of how she would make love to my cock, how she would be gentle and then aggressive, teasing and then blunt, how she would seek to bring me to the very edge of orgasm and then let me go ... and then do it all over again.

I could tell she was having some trouble talking. It did not take much for me to realize that she was again touching herself. I could again sense that her fingers were doing a loving dance inside her and her palm was pressing down on her clit. My body was shaking I was so excited. I could not sit still. My cock was pointing due north as if to reach out to her and be swallowed up in the virtual pleasure she was giving me. It was if I could feel her warm sucking mouth on me; sliding me in and out of her mouth. I could almost feel her teeth gliding gently over the skin making me harder and harder with each stroke. Her one free hand was gently caressing my balls. The warmth and gentleness of her touch was almost too much for me. Almost in unison, we both let out a low deep groan.

"I heard that", she said. "One more sound and this line goes dead." "ok ok ok ok ok ok ok", I begged her forgiveness. "Just don't stop what you are doing ... please."

And as if nothing had been said, she went on some more on her wishes for me. She told me how much pleasure she got from pleasing a man. All of her inner dark secrets were slowly being exposed to me. I was told of her desire for deep true love, how she longed to be satisfied and filled, how her soul felt empty and alone. The oratory concluded with her sharing with me how she felt I was the man she wanted; the man she wanted to please and to have please her.

We were near the end. It was time. The conversation shifted from the warmth of her mouth on my cock to the heat of her pussy being lowered onto me while still sitting in the chair. Slowly, she told me of how she would straddle me with my hard cock pointing upward and how she would maneuver it into her pussy. She shared with me how she would wrap her arms around my head, press my face into her breasts and slowly lower herself down onto me until I was buried all the way inside her. I was able to follow along with her, stroke for stroke, as she described the passionate way she would fuck me. She shared how my cock felt when it was way up inside her. I could almost feel her pussy lips kissing the base of my cock as I lifted and thrust up into her.

She then told me what she wanted me to do. She said that when she felt us ready to cum, that she would latch her arms around my neck and lean back. I was told that to make her cum with me, I should reach down between us and massage her clit as she slid back and forth on me. I could almost visualize looking down and seeing my glistening cock emerging and disappearing in her as she slid back and forth on me. Her swollen hard clit would stick out each time she pushed me into her. There would be barely enough room for my hand to fit but I could see myself willingly complying with her request.

Then it got silent on the other end of the phone. I could hear nothing but her quickening breathing. She felt me. She felt me inside her. She felt me throbbing and hard and touching her deeply. Her clit felt my hand rubbing and she was getting lost in the rush of sensations. Over the phone, I could hear her start to cry out my name ... and then she said

"Cum for me baby, ... cum with me .. be mine forever."

My hands dropped from the arm rests and they snaked themselves around her sweaty torso. "Fuck me" I said. "Fuck me hard" "Feel me baby, we are together, we are one, we are forever!"

Without warning, I heard my name come crying over the phone lines. Two tenths of a second later, I felt my own passion rising and knew that I was going to share this magical moment with her. Two, three, four more thrusts and a river of cum came shooting out of me. I felt it shoot up deep inside her. I felt her own body shiver and shake on mine. I cried out in total ecstasy, I shouted out her name. I locked my arms tight around her until every ounce of cum and passion was milked from both of our bodies. Then, I could feel us moving slowly as we both settled down and wound down from the passion that had consumed us.

Not letting go but moving her back a bit, I could look into her eyes and say without reservation ....

I want you

tonight you’re mine