Fandango

bybudnging2000©

n. 1. A vigorous Spanish or Latin American dance in triple time, traditionally performed by a man and woman as a courtship ritual


She read each word as they appeared on screen. Each one a drop of passion, like a kiss on her open mouth. Helen was alone in her room, dancing with him as he teased, caressed her with whispered promises and lies. She tried to tear her eyes away, to focus, but the lines blurred, the images making her unable to move. She always said no more, I can stop this. She never meant it, never wanted to ever stop. He was more real than anyone she had known. He seemed to reach into her head and draw out things she had stashed in the dark, never to talk about or dream she could have. They never asked each other about the life outside the room, never talked of the mundane. He held her tight, his weight a comfort, safe.

'His hands cupped her, fingers sliding inside again, her knees weak.'

Helen crossed her legs, the sticky wetness causing her to squirm. She could feel the pressure in her chest, realized she has stopped breathing again....

'The hands were bunched in her hair, pulling her closer, pulling her mouth to his...'

Helen gasped in air, the outburst loud in the quiet room. It startled her, causing her to finally move. She stood, pacing the floor, the screen in the corner of her eyes. She could see it, could FEEL it as line after line spilled out. Each one seemed to crawl inside her mind, her heart. Helen was aware of her pulse, the throbbing in her core. The robe she wore slipped off. She stood naked, only the glow of the monitor bathing her in cool light. She looked down; saw her breasts swelling with each beat, her nipples so hard, stiff. She mused that she could hang clothes on them. She smiled at the absurd image, her fingers pulling them.

'Harder, harder...up, yes... that's... IT...Yesssssssssss.... His touch just what she wanted, just right.'

Yes, yes, touch me like that she thought. With both hands she teased herself, her nipples now pinched up high, and the pain...? a bite only, each twist of her fingers a new rocket of pleasure.

Helen dreamed that he was here, pulling them for her. He was fantasy, but not make believe. Every day she looked for him, listened to his lies. His words were like water now. She went back and forth in her mind again, reading the new text, how she was sliding her hips up and down the shaft buried in her pussy, her face bent to give him a kiss as he lay below her. Helen's hand rubbed tiny circles on her hard clit, both in her room and on screen. Unconsciously her hips pumped the air silently, fucking him her unseen lover. The screen kept whispering to her, giving her each new images, new ways to see herself with him, with others.

She felt hands on her ass, spreading the wet cheeks open, her back arched, tilting to allow the second man access. She waited for the pressure, the sweet feeling of fullness again. The globes were shiny, wanting to have that secret opening filled. A hand came down, smarting as the blows stung her, the heat wonderful again. Again a blow, then another, each cheek red and pink. Fluids seeped out, drenched her, shocking in raw desire. Helen's finger's were buried deep now, fucking herself. She rocked silently as in her mind she watched herself, her anus ready, her hips wiggling lewdly in invitation. Helen could see it, feel his moist tongue sliding in and out to caress her, see the muscle tense... relax... open. He held his cock, touching the tip to the opening, testing her. Like a mouth giving a kiss she opened, the head sliding in, her gasp both real and text. A second hand now played her, her fingers bumping inside as now she worked her own ass, cunt. No longer standing, no...god...the tension unbearable that way. Helen was on her knees, her mouth open once again, pleading with Him silently...

Go on... do it........... Finish me...

She crawled as best she could to get close to his words, quiet as it scrolled on, the screen telling her each move, another fantasy moment, a new twist. Her open mouth finally filled now, the words spilling endlessly, effortlessly. Helen's dream images merged, twisted. She was there, filled in all three portals, the cocks moving in and out, nothing more to her at that time than flesh that pleasured her. She could smell them, their sweat, feel hot breathing. Their aftershaves mingled, gifts maybe from loved ones. The taste was so familiar, yet new again. Her tongue laved the rigid cock, her head bobbing slowly as it joined the beat of the lovers. Their hands gripped at her, pawed her skin, her hair. In, out, in, out. They beat a rhythm that burned her, never faster, never slower. Her body sucked at them, drawing them in. Helen breathed furiously through her nose, her wrist the only exposed flesh, the digits hidden, turning in her as she came again. Tears spilled freely down, salty trails as she wanted this.... please god, pleeeeeeease. Her hips bucked wildly, her ass filled as well.

No rational thoughts now, nothing real. She saw/felt the trembling again, stomach crunched inward as she came, then again, again. Felt/heard herself screaming then, the sperm hitting inside, splashing, running, burning. It ballooned her cheeks; her eyes open wide, frantic to drink it down. Her hand clutched his hips, mouth working still as her ass relaxed again, the wet trail of semen mingling with its partner in the front.

She lay there, puddled in their essence as the screen glowed, hungry to give her more. He teased her still, the stories never finished. New lovers entered, left, women kissing her sleeping mouth, her center, unseen hands on wet thighs. Other bodies called her, seemingly eternal enticements. She loved it but could not see how she fed it. Never sleeping, it watched her when she slept, pushing into her dreams. It gave and took, each moment a shared secret in dark passions, in empty rooms that only filled when the other joined in, dancing in kisses in the rain.

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