Dream On

"But this is so, so graphic."

"Rhonda, those are just field notes. There's no story there. If those notes and sketches were to be printed as they stand, with no editing, and without being integrated into a story, they would be porn. They won't be when I work them into a story."

"If I were to read one of your stories, would I still get as wet as this is making me?"

"I would hope so. That's the whole purpose of writing such things into a story."

"I wish I could read one of your stories. If they turn me on like this has done I'd like to have a whole collection of them."

"My dear, if you'd like to go to the condo I've rented while here, I'd be happy to let you read some of my stories, and will even give you some of them on a CD if you have a computer on which you can read them."

Fifteen minutes later Rhonda and I were in the living room of my condo. We were both wearing the bathing suits we had put on so that we could drive from the beach to my place. She was a gorgeous in her bikini as she was when nude. My erection had subsided while I was driving; it's dangerous to drive in Southern California if your mind is distracted, but now it was returning with a vengeance. Rhonda noticed.

"La a a ng," she said, drawing my name out as she reached out and stroked the bulge in my swim trunks, "does this mean I turn you on?"

"Rhonda, I would have to be dead for you to not turn me on."

"Well, your trunks seem to be cramping that thing. Why don't we get nude like we were at the beach?" She didn't wait for my response, but immediately began removing the top of her bikini. As she bared her beautiful breasts, I pushed my swim suit down. It caught on the head of my penis and bent it downward before releasing it and letting it snap up to slap against my belly with an audible clap.

"Um! Lang, that looks good enough to eat."

"Do you enjoy fellatio?"

"I love it, and I hope you like to eat pussy."

Rhonda's interest in oral sex removed my last doubts about her desirability. I'm an inveterate cunnilinguist, and enjoy being fellated almost as much as I enjoy intercourse.

"Which do you want to do first, read some of my work, or go to bed?"

"As much as I want to taste your cum, I want to look at some of your stories first. I'm hot now, but if your stories are as good as I think they are, I'll get even hotter."

"Okay."

I led Rhonda into the bedroom where I keep my work in one of the wardrobe's drawers. From the stack of manuscripts I had there, I selected six that I considered among my best. "Here, I think you may find these interesting."

"None of the stories were long; magazines just don't buy anything longer than novella length, and even those are hard to sell."

Rhonda took the stack of papers and immediately headed toward my bed to read them.

"Let me turn down the linen and get you a couple of large pillows to lean against. You might as well be comfortable while you read."

She needed no further invitation. A moment later she was sprawled atop my bed, her back supported by a pile of pillows against the headboard. As she read she spread her legs and let her left hand drift down to her pubis. Slowly, she teased her pubic hair aside so her forefinger could slip between her puffy labia. Her breasts were already glowing with the heat of her arousal, and her nipples were standing like miniature towers on the distended and darkened mounds of her aureole.

It was difficult for me to keep my hands off of her, but I sensed that it was too soon for me to think about my own pleasure. I lay next to her watching her as she read. She moved her lips, silently pronouncing each word, each syllable. Her breathing quickened and became erratic. Her fingers were now sliding with long, deliberate strokes between her labia major, gently caressing her clitoris and lesser labia.

As she read all of these indicators of arousal became more pronounced. I could do nothing but lie there and quietly stroke my turgid member – not enough to make me cum, but enough to keep it primed and ready for what I hoped would soon happen.

Rhonda gave a little shudder. "Oh, o o o oh! She gasped for air and then quieted as her orgasm diminished and left her momentarily sated.

"Mmmm, that was nice. Thank you for letting me do that without you touching me. When I read something hot like that, I just want to lose myself in what I'm reading without having to think about anything, or anyone else."

"Did you enjoy the story?"

"Couldn't you tell? Yes. I've never read anything quite so, so erotic. It wasn't nasty like so much of the shit I read, but it set me on fire. Where do you come up with all of those hot scenes? Have you done all of those things with different women?"

"I'll answer your last question first. No. I don't do all of the things I write about. I don't know too many women who are into doing all of those things, or even some of them. I try to do as many things as I feel my partner will accept, but mostly I let my imagination run wild."

"All I can say is that you have one hell of an imagination. Your writing had me so hypnotized that I felt like I was the girl you were writing about, and all of those delicious things were happening to me."

"Thank you, that's a compliment every writer hopes to hear."

"L a a a ang?"

"Yes?"

"Will you make love to me the way George in this story made love to Sylvia?"

"I'd love to. I just hope I can do it as convincingly as I can write about it."

Rhonda didn't want to talk any more. She put her arms around my neck and pressed her hot moist lips to mine. Seconds later our mouths were open and our tongues were dancing together in that timeless, universal expression of unleashed passion. Her right hand wrapped around my erect penis and stoked it in a slow deliberate manner that made a river of pre-ejaculate flow from the meatus and coat both the glans and her hand with its slipperiness. In the meantime, my left hand massaged her breasts while my right slid between her labia so that my long second finger could penetrate her vagina while my thumb and other fingers stimulated her labia minor and her swollen clitoris.

I must have hit the right trigger points. Rhonda climaxed.

"Ho o o o. That's a first for me."

"What do you mean?"

"That's the first time I've ever cum just from petting like that. Damn you make me hot."

"Good. Are you ready for some more, or do you want to rest a moment?"

"Do me some more. Suck my titties, please."

I complied with alacrity. I enjoy suckling a beautiful, firm tit almost as much as I enjoy the taste of a woman's fragrant, moist vulva. As I nursed at her breast, Rhonda sighed with contentment. The sound she made was almost a purr.

While drawing her nipple into my mouth and teasing it with my tongue, I continued to use my fingers to work her pussy into a lather. I had never removed my left hand from where it had been when she had her orgasm. I had located the swelling a short distance inside, and along the anterior wall of her vagina that was her G-spot, and was massaging it with a slow, steady pressure. At the same time, my thumb was strumming her clitoris.

"Oh god! I'm cumming again." As she said this her entire body became rigid, and she vibrated from head to toe like the "low E" string on a guitar. Had I not known she was having a powerful orgasm, I might have thought she was suffering an epileptic seizure.

When her orgasm finally subsided Rhonda became limp and was so exhausted that she could do nothing but lie beside me breathing slowly and deeply. It took a full two minutes for her to begin breathing normally and regain her ability to move purposefully. Once she was able to do so she turned toward me, smiled, and said with a husky, somewhat trembling voice, "What did you do to me? I've never had an orgasm like that before. Just before it hit, I felt like I was going to pee, but before I could say anything I was paralyzed by the most powerful, most wonderful orgasm I've ever had."

"A 'G-spot' orgasm sometimes produces that result. Did you enjoy it?"

"Now there's a really stupid question. There's no way that I could not have enjoyed cumming like that. If you can make me cum like that just sucking my tit and finger fucking me, what's it going to be like when you suck my clit?"

"I don't know, but I'll be ready to help you find out whenever you feel like you're ready."

"After that orgasm, it may take me a while to recover. Oh, I still feel like I need to pee. Where's the bathroom?"

When Rhonda returned to the bed she sighed as she slipped beneath the sheets. "Lang, I want some more, and I know you haven't cum yet, but I don't think I'm ready for another orgasm if it's going to be anything like that last one. I need to rest for a while."

"Okay. I can wait. Besides, it is almost supper time. Why don't you lie here and read while I go into the kitchen to see what there is to eat?"

"That sounds wonderful. Sex always leaves me famished."

While Rhonda read and rested, I prepared a meal of Cordon Bleu, steamed broccoli, and home fries, and opened a bottle of Cote du Rhone wine. We ate nude, as we had been all day. After dinner Rhonda said, "Lang, you amaze me. You cook as well as you make love. That was fantastic."

I thanked her, but did not demur. The meal was good. I'm a gourmet as well as a sex addict.

We again retired to the bedroom where I asked Rhonda if she were ready to resume our tryst. She shook her head and said, "Please, not just yet. Give me time to get over that fantastic dinner, and read a little to get back in the mood for more sex."

I'm a patient man when it comes to sex. It does no harm to wait for a woman to warm up, and can do a great deal of harm to rush her. Women, unlike most men, take a while to respond to sexual stimuli.

She again settled into the bed, picked up the stack of manuscripts I had given her, and began to read. I lay along side her watching her response to the stories.

It didn't take long for me to notice the flushing of her bosom, and the change in her breathing. Her nipples again became turgid, and her left hand again drifted down her flat belly to nestle in the curls of her pubic hair. As though drawn by the warmth and moistness that lay between her labia, her fingers again parted that patch of neatly trimmed hair and snaked between the puffy folds to gently stoke her engorged clitoris.

As before, her breathing became slow and deep. Every so often a soft gasp emerged from her slightly open mouth as she experienced a mini orgasm.

This time I did not wait for her to tell me she was ready. I placed my head on her lower belly and nuzzled the short hairs at the top of her mons Veneris. A moment later she withdrew her hand from between her labia and pushed my head lower. That was what I was waiting for. I turned my body so that I was facing toward the head of the bed, and my mouth and nose were nestled at the edge of her vulva. I let my tongue snake forward and part her pubic hair. At the touch of my tongue on her bare, moist flesh she moaned, spread her legs widely, and said, "Oh yes. Eat me. Eat me now."

I did. I ate her with gusto and finesse. Yes, it is possible to use finesse even when acting with gusto. The two are not mutually exclusive.

The flavor, fragrance, and texture of Rhonda's vulva were everything a dedicated cunnilinguist, which I am, could hope for.

The odor was subtle, but was nevertheless a powerful aphrodisiac. Its contribution to her taste gave her secretions a piquancy that, could it be bottled and sold as a gourmet sauce, would have a per ounce cost rivaling that of the finest Spanish saffron. Initially there was a mild metallic taste from the tiny amount of urine left behind by her last trip to the bathroom, but that quickly disappeared leaving only the rich, smooth flavor of fresh vaginal lubricants. And, the texture of her labia minor – just thinking about it sends shudders of rapture through me. Silk is not so smooth, and yet there were small raised spots, which while smooth and even slippery with their coating of woman juice, were detectable by my tongue.

Rhonda's clitoris might be a turn off to a lot of men; it was large – a little over an inch long and nearly a half inch in diameter. It looked like a miniature penis without a pee hole.

I've never sucked a man off, but I gave Rhonda a blow job to end all blow jobs. I did to her, what I always hope my lovers will do to me when going down on me. What I did must have been right. Rhonda grabbed me by my hair and pulled me more tightly into her steamy crotch.

As I sucked and licked her clitoris and labia minor, I worked two fingers into her vagina and again massaged her G-spot.

Even as I was getting in position to go down on her, Rhonda had maneuvered herself around on the bed so that she could take my penis into her mouth. She sucked, licked, and jacked it with a firm, deftness that made it clear to me that she was no novice as a fellatrix. Her technique was superb.

I soon realized that I could judge Rhonda's response to my oral ministrations by the manner in which she blew me. As she approached an orgasm her sucking and jacking of my penis became more vigorous. If I slacked off and let her slip to a lower level of arousal, she eased her stimulation of my organ. I knew then that I could make our session of oral sex last as long as I wanted, and could hold her just on the edge of orgasm the entire time.

After an hour of teasing her in that manner, she could take no more. "Lang, let me cum. Please let me cum."

I didn't answer, but increased the pressure and rate of my lip and tongue action on her external genitals, and the massaging of her G-spot. In turn her mouth and hand increased their frantic stimulation of my penis. We climaxed at the same instant.

When I turned my self to lie next to her I noticed that Rhonda's orgasm had robbed her of her consciousness. A quick check of her pulse and respiration told me she was okay so I merely waited for her to recover on her own. Her swoon lasted nearly a minute. At last, her eyes fluttered open. She sighed deeply and said, "God, what an orgasm. What did you do to make me cum like that?"

"Hon, I just did the things your responses told me you enjoyed. I read you like a textbook and followed the directions you gave me."

She made no further comment. She had fallen asleep. I covered her, went to the bathroom, and then returned to bed to sleep beside her. The next morning she had to go to her job. It was after nine when we awoke, so she had to call her office to tell her boss she was on her way. I loaned her one of my shirts and a pair of walking shorts to wear home, and then took her to her apartment. I watched as she showered and dressed for work. It took a lot of self control to keep from joining her in the shower, but I managed it.

As we left her place, I to return home, and she to go to work, she kissed me and said, "Lang, I hope yesterday wasn't just a one night stand. I'd like to make it a long term habit."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," I said. I have to go back east and earn a living."

Fantasy Three

Sammie

Samantha (Sammie) is a nineteen year old sophomore at the local university. She rents the efficiency apartment attached to my house. When she is home, and the weather is warm, as it often is here in this desert, she likes to run around the back yard in a string bikini, and likes to soak in the spa, or sun bathe on the wooden deck the spa sits on. Recently she asked if I would put up a privacy fence to keep people in the neighboring yard from watching her while she sunned herself.

That made me curious. She had been lying there several days a week soaking up the sun and giving no heed to the neighbors. I looked her up and down and asked, "Sammie, have any of the guys in the apartments next door given you a hard time, or made rude comments?"

"No, Lang. They've all been friendly, but they've also been polite. It's..." She hesitated for a moment and then continued. "It's just that I'd like to take my bathing suit off and get an even tan all over."

"You know, of course, that I'd see you."

"Yeah. But you won't blab it all over town. I'm not a prude, and I'm not ashamed to be seen nude, but I don't want every guy in the neighborhood, or at school gathering along the fence to stare at me, or bragging all over the place that they've seen me bare assed naked."

That same afternoon I went to Lowe's™ and bought corrugated fiberglass paneling, ten foot long pipe for uprights, and bolts to fasten everything together.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but Sammie's coffee a-latté complexion, beautiful face, and perfectly proportioned body make me drool every time I see her, and the prospect of seeing her nude had my penis doing its best to give meaning to my name. I had Sammie's fence up before she got home from class.

At 4:55 Sammie came to my back door and knocked. As usual she was in her bikini. When I opened the screen, and before I could even say "Hi" she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me full on the mouth. "Lang," she said, "Thank you. That fence is perfect. It blocks the view, but not the sunlight."

Sammie's nearly nude body pressed so tightly against me raised my blood pressure I'm sure. I know it caused something else to rise. Sammie's reaction told me that she knew it too.

"La a a ng, just because I gave you a thank you kiss doesn't mean you can be naughty."

"What do you mean, Sammie," I asked, knowing damn well what she meant.

"I mean that you needn't get a hard-on just because I kissed you. I'm not about to do anything else with you, and you're not going to do anything with me."

"Touché!" I replied. "But I'd have to have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel to not become aroused by your kiss and your lack of clothing."

Sammie giggled. "Lang, be good, and thanks. The sun is still high enough for me to get a half hour of it before supper time." With that she turned and headed toward the spa. Her halter top was off before she had gone five paces, and before she reached the deck she had loosened the side ties on the bottom of her suit and let it fall to the ground. Damn, she was beautiful.

To be honest, Sammie is beautiful when fully dressed, even in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that hides the fullness of her breasts, but nude...

As I watched her spread a beach towel on the deck next to the spa I could not help but marvel at the smooth contours of her body.

Sammie's breasts are cone shaped. A 34B bra would be snug on them, but not uncomfortably tight. The areolas are a deep chocolate brown and about the size of half dollar coins, (I'm sorry if you younger readers have never seen a fifty-cent piece. There aren't many in circulation any more.), and are tipped by long, thick nipples that just beg to be sucked.

Below her breasts, her waist tapers to about twenty-four or twenty-five inches before flaring out into a pear shaped thirty-four inch butt. She has, in my opinion, the perfect hour-glass figure.

As for Sammie's skin; as I said before, her coloration is that of coffee a-latté; rich, creamy, and flawlessly smooth.

Sammie doesn't shave her pubis, but she trims the hair so that none shows when she wears her smallest string bikini. The hair that is there is tightly coiled, and a deep midnight black. And, by gosh, it's short enough that her clitoris is just visible poking out between her full, firm labia major.

As I watched her, I wished she would lie in a position that would let me look between her labia and see the center of her womanhood. Just thinking about that stiffened my penis making it strive to live up to my name. I went inside to get a beer, and to rearrange my equipment so that it wasn't cramped by my tight trousers.

When I came out, beer in hand, Sammie looked at me and said, "Where's mine?"