Inception

bymaxdname©

A feminine outline sways cutting through the crowd like a serpent through water. Her movements — bounded only by the laws of physics and that of mankind — are as a ship's prow slicing through a calm sea at night, casting a wake amidst a carpet of tiny creatures, a green glow against the darkness. A darkness left in its void.

Dull eyes follow her movements as she sails upon the concrete ocean. Eyes filled with envy, eyes filled with longing and eyes struck dumb with awe. She is a woman that defines the sex.

Chin held high, her stare is focused on some distant point while she splits the humanity that shares this sidewalk. Her sidewalk. The daring lean towards her, that they might brush against her body, but she artfully dodges their attempts without interrupting her scripted movements, leaving only a faint scent lingering in her path. A scent of fresh scrubbed female flesh and sexual intensity. An intensity that reflects in her eyes: vivid green eyes that fairly crackle with electricity. To hold her gaze for more than a moment is painful for some but a window to her soul for those strong enough.

A mystical assignation is her only interest. A man is all she thinks about in her stride. A man she had hoped to call her own, but who calls himself, no woman's. A man of such perfection she must possess some portion of him. A man equal to her.

An enigmatic smile is the only outward clue to her carnal pleasure. She already feels him inside her, she is already enjoying his favors. A small device well-placed against the entrance to her body rubs the center of her sex with every step. And every step brings her closer to fulfillment, the closeness of this crowd intensifies that feeling. Her long strides with the carefree swing of her hips and arms casts a blur of sensual movement through the motions of others who bob like corks in a clumsy current.

Arriving at her destination she turns to climb the well-worn stairway and the sidewalk breathes a collective sigh of relief.

One man stops at the bottom of the stairs to watch her hips sway as she climbs to the second floor and to her tryst. She feels his eyes massage her flesh and turns to meet his stare. A casual flick of her wrist brings her skirt high enough for the man to see the sharp cut of her firm buttocks as they start away from her thighs and vanish beneath creamy red silk. He chuckles softly, shakes his head and continues on his way. Her sexual completion is one step closer.

A door swings open as the buzzer announces her arrival and she strides again towards her meeting. Her pleasure is piqued and her words tumble out of her mouth in a staccato beat betraying her approaching climax.

"I'm ready. I'm ready to take you."

He looks up from his work and without a smile asks, "Are you sure about this?"

A breathless nod is all she can manage.

She falls forward, her torso plowing through papers on his desk. Her hands lift her skirt and tug down her panties to reveal the small red vibrator designed to increase her pleasure languishing amidst a shiny wet spot in the silk.

With a laugh he speaks again. "Why do you need me?"

"Hurry, I have to have you inside me." Her voice seems strangled even to her own ears.

He frees his flesh, yet to touch the fervor of a woman's lust. The rising tide of his sperm builds quickly as he pushes his hips hard against her upturned ass. His body bucks several times and she reaches between her legs to tickle the button that controls her lust so she can join him on the apex of rapture. Her breathing is convulsed as she comes hard on his well-formed cock: a cock that fills her nicely.

"If you breathe a word of this to Robert, I will deny everything. As far as he knows I have been completely faithful," he puffs as he yanks up his trousers.

Through ragged breaths she smiles and nods. "Your secret is safe with me."

Back on the street the crowd is unaware that she carries his seed within her womb as she maneuvers, once again, through the midday crowd. A seed that will produce a fine son; her son, with a full head of blond curly hair. A son that will never know of his father's dalliance nor his sexual preference. A son who only knows, it's good to be alive.

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