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The start
A Sexual Fantasy
I don’t know where it began…. Looking back, there’s always been something there. A look, a brush past, a late night drink when everyone else had left and my husband was pissed again on the sofa. But that night awakened a spark in me that I thought had been extinguished forever.A stupid domestic had sent me out with the girls, and you know how it is, I’’d consoled myself with drinks and flirting but I knew as I got out of the taxi that I needed more. And that is what I got.
Was it a coincidence that he was outside as I got home? I’m not sure. And I know now that it was definitely not accidental that he suggested that he come in to make sure I was ok.
There’s always been a chemistry between us, but we both had suppressed it for everyone’s benefit- including for the man that I was married to, who was sleeping upstairs.
But as he reached over me to pour another drink, brushing against my thighs I could feel how aroused he was. He stood in front of me and told me that he was taking control of the situation. Before I knew it, I was being passionately kissed and was rubbing myself against him; getting wetter and wetter. I was out of control and knew that I was going to submit to him- finally.
Silently, he turned me around and I felt him lift my skirt. The only sound was of my breathing. I waited in anticipation to feel him enter me, but instead felt him straighten the back of my stockings and lick the lace at the point where my thigh met the nylon. I trembled and reached to the cupboards above me to balance myself.
Involuntarily my body moved back into him, and I felt his tongue move inside me. I needed more . I heard myself saying do I want you to do what you want with me … anything you want.
And with his fingers deep inside me I could feel his tongue licking at the stream that was running down the inside of my thighs as I came in waves on his face - knowing that I couldn’t make a noise.
I was desperate for more and expected to soon have him in my mouth - but instead he readjusted my soaked knickers thong and covered my arse with my skirt.
‘Good girl’ he said and left the house.
We never spoke of it again.
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