The Real Thing

(All characters are over the age 0f 18. Thanks to WestCoast22 for her assistance with editing this story.)

I wake up luxuriously late. The house has the quiet that descends on it after the urgent noise of early morning rituals such as hurried showers and rushed breakfasts. Mom and Dad have gone to town, and my younger brother Dave probably took a lift with them. They all think that I am not due in class until this afternoon. I am all by myself, and I can do whatever I like.

Actually I should have left for class already, but college will go on without me. I play with my breasts, tempted to move down between my legs but the morning sun is already high and my stomach is rumbling.

I get up and make myself a lavish sandwich with all the extras. It is very good, but it does not take away the itch inside me. I am tempted to go back to bed and...

Instead I take a shower. As the warm water cascades down my naked skin, my body cries out for attention. My frustrated fingers reach between my legs. It would be wonderful to have a real man. We could kiss, we could touch one another, I could undress him, and then...

I shake off the dream. It is just a fantasy.

But that does not mean that I have to go to class...

I wonder for a moment about what to do on such a glorious day, and make my decision. I will go to the beach. It is a work day a long way from the city, and the golden sands and blue water will be undisturbed today. I get dressed in my favorite bikini and put on a thin sundress over it.

I look in the mirror to judge the effect. My dark red shoulder-length hair betrays the heat of my passion. My dark eyes blaze back at me, betraying a hungry look that any man would immediately instinctively recognize. The naughty smile on my lips dispels any notion that I am above a little fun. The thin sundress only partially hides the fact that my body is brown all over without awkward tan lines. Whilst I am decently dressed, there are more than enough hints for a man to picture my naked body.

It is probably better that I stay away from men today: there is no knowing what might happen given my uncontrolled libido and the overt invitation my looks are sending out.

I wonder what I would do if I were to meet a man. I imagine slowly undressing for the stranger, fanning the fires of his own desire until he has no option but to ravish me. I check myself. I try to be a good girl, and it is far more likely that I would be coy, and try to hide the flames that are at work in me.

I gather the necessities for a day in the sun. I raid the fridge and pack the loot into the picnic box. I put the cosmetics bag, suntan lotion, hairbrush and towel into a separate bag.

I fetch the umbrella in the cupboard below the stairs. There seems to be more dust than usual. As I take the umbrella I sneeze, causing it to fall against the wall of the cupboard. With a hollow sound, a wooden panel falls down and hits the floor with a clang. I lift the panel to put it back.

But wait: now that the panel has fallen down, I can see a dark hole in the wall. I curiously peer closer; I could swear that hole wasn't there a few weeks ago. There is definitely something in the hole. I reach in and take out the top item. It is a book. A pornographic book.

The cover shows a picture of a handsome man on top of a very sexy woman. I don't need to read the title of the book: the picture tells it all. Although there is no nudity on the cover, the woman's ecstatic expression leaves no doubt that she is being fucked.

I look at the rest of the stash in the hole. It contains girlie magazines and some other interesting books. This must be little brother Dave's stash of dirty reading. I have been trying to find it for months. It feels so good that I have discovered it, even if only by accident.

I am tempted to peek a little into the books I have found. I tell myself that I will read for only a few minutes, but I know that this can never be. Once I have started, I won't stop; not even to go to the beach.

No, I will postpone my pleasure until I have gotten out into the sun.

As I drive to the beach, the sun smiles down at me. There is every promise of warm weather. A few minutes later I park my car behind a sand dune and lug the picnic box, bag and umbrella down the short path to the beach. I excitedly stride onto the beach and head straight for my favorite spot. It has a superb view of the sea, but it is close enough for me to be able to take a quick dip in the waves when I get too hot.

I look around as I walk: the beach is entirely deserted except for footmarks criss-crossing the sand. All of them are at least several hours old. I shall truly be alone to do whatever I want.

It is likely that nobody else will pass here all day.

Normally I would go skinny dipping on a day like this, but today I have other, naughtier things to do.

I reach my spot and quickly set everything up. I put up the umbrella and put down my beach towel. I quickly take off my sundress and fold it away into the box. I lie down and hurriedly apply the sun tan lotion.

The waves are crashing away nearby. Their constant din is occasionally punctured by the screech of a gull. I have had many good times here with friends and family, but today I am happy to be alone. It is perfect for what I have in mind.

I take out the books and put them down on the towel. I take a quick look at the magazines, and decide that they won't turn me on. Looking at women does nothing for me. I put the magazines back into the box and take a book at random and start reading.

Soon I am lost in the story. It is simple enough: A woman is hired to be the housekeeper of a very rich man. She soon finds out that he is lonely, and helpfully arranges for a high class prostitute to entertain him. The housekeeper hides away and manages to watch the rich man having his way with the hooker. She enjoys it so much that the next night she arranges another hooker for the rich man. The book features graphic descriptions of the sex and of the housekeeper stroking her pussy while watching. The housekeeper is addicted to watching her employer having sex with women. After sending the second hooker away, the rich man spots the voyeuristic housekeeper where she had been illicitly spying. Instead of being angry, the rich man thanks her for help in arranging his fun with a kiss. As he does so, he gets a look at the top of her breast. This reignites his passion, and he immediately seduces her. As the rich man has his way with her he falls in love with her. Right after a crashing orgasm by both parties he proposes marriage to her, and she accepts. They have a sex-filled honeymoon (six sex sessions are described taking up fifty pages) and return home. The housekeeper turned wife suddenly feels that something is missing: she enjoyed watching her man having sex with other women. She decides that she wants to once again the thrill of voyeurism, and calls a new prostitute. The book ends with her presenting the hooker to her husband and telling him to enjoy himself with her. She watches the action from her secret hideout. The final paragraph describes how all three orgasm at the same time, and both husband and wife simultaneously and independently decide that they will hire surrogates again in future.

The realism might be less than perfect, but the sex scenes are all well-written, and the buildups are exciting. I wish that I could have a man give me what I need, but as I read I decide to make do with second best. My finger is soon playing with my clit, and along the way I have at least two orgasms.

The book does not take long to read, but when it is finished I find that I am sleepy. I lay the book down on the blanket and think about the story. If I were the housekeeper of a rich man, I would seduce him myself. I turn over and lie on my stomach. I think of how I would flirt with him, my fingers once again playing their delightful little dance on my clit. The flirting makes way for a picture of the naked rich man reaching for me, my sensitive breasts squeezed against his chest, my fingers toying with his beautiful strong maleness, and then the moment that he slowly pushes me down. My legs open for him...

The fantasy is good, but my body isn't responding properly. It just feels that my fingers are not what I really want. I need a real man with a real body who will fill me for real.

Frustrated, I try very hard to tease an orgasm out of my body, but somehow it just doesn't arrive. No matter what I do, it is always just out of reach. I feel trapped in my body: I need to cum, but there seems to be no way.

Finally, exhausted, I lie still and fall into a confused half sleep.

Suddenly I wake up, my left hand still between my legs. I open my eyes. I am still on the beach. At first everything seems exactly as it was when I arrived, except that the sun has moved and is now almost overhead.

Then I notice that there is someone standing next to me. I can see a pair of bare male feet next to me.

I am naked.

I panic.

I make a quick grab for my clothes, but with a sudden horrible feeling I find that they are not there.

The person above me laughs loudly. His laughter has a gruff sound.

He has moved my clothes.

"Go away," I say. I start to turn, trying to be careful so as not to show my bare breasts, but the man pins me down so that I can't move. He is very strong, and I can't budge him.

He pulls my arms above my head, and grips them with one hand. Then he uses the other hand to cover my head with the sundress.

I am frightened. I have not seen the man's face, and I suppose he will not let me. I scream for help. It is all useless: the sound of the waves will drown out the sound of my pleas. I am sure that the beach is deserted any way.

The man takes no heed. He kneels down over me, my thighs between his legs. "What have you been reading, Miss?" he asks teasingly.

I stay silent. I am in trouble, and I am trying to think of a way out of it. There is no way. I am alone with this stranger, and I am certain that he is far stronger than me. Realistically, he will do whatever he wants to do, and I will be powerless to stop him.

"I bet you are real hot," the man says."I wonder how long you fingered yourself."

"That's none of your business," I say angrily. I try to kick him away, but I achieve nothing.

The man kneels over me and ties my hands together with some cord. I am surprised by his gentleness. I try to break my hands out of the knot, but my arms are securely tied even though I feel no pain from the cords being too tight against my skin.

The man whistles happily, and then ties the sundress more securely to my face so that I will not be able to shake it off. "Let's see what I have found."

A flutter of fear and excitement goes through my stomach. The man is going to turn me over to look at me. Strangely the excitement is stronger than the fear. Perhaps the man's voice, while gruff, is not really menacing. Perhaps I have been reading too much porn. The reasons don't really matter. I can feel the moisture spread across my pussy.

The stranger kneels down next to me. "Roll over," he commands.

I reluctantly turn over, very aware that my breasts and pussy are now fully on display. I am still on my towel, but I can now feel the heat of the sun beating down on me. I consider trying to keep rolling and trying to escape, but the thought is absurd. Even if I got the sundress off my eyes my captor would still easily be able to catch me.

"Very pretty!" the stranger exclaims. "It's my lucky day."

"Go away!" I say, trying to sound in control.

"I will leave when I am finished," the man says with a laugh.

I feel a slight chill. "Finished with what?" I ask in a shaky voice, all pitiful pretence of mastery gone.

"Right now I am enjoying looking at you. Maybe I'll leave when I've finished drinking in the sight of your sexy naked body. Come, open your legs a little bit so that I can get a better view of your pretty little pussy."

"No, I won't," I say stubbornly, holding my legs together as stiffly as I can.

"That isn't a problem," the man says quietly. "I'm sure that I can convince you to co-operate."

I shake my head, fiercely determined to make it as difficult as possible.

Suddenly the man starts tickling me underneath my arms. I cannot control myself; I have always been very ticklish. I roll around trying to avoid his fingers. Suddenly I find that he is no longer tickling me, and that he has settled himself between my legs. I do not know how he did it, but he must be very quick.

I lie still, trying to get my breath.

"I told you that I would convince you to give me a better show," the man taunts me. "Your pussy has such a sweet smell."

Furious at being beaten so easily, I again start to kick as hard as I can. The man just laughs at me. The problem is that I am fighting blind, whilst he can easily avoid my feeble moves.

As I struggle, he keeps me down with both hands. Worse, while he holds me the hands are taking liberties with me: squeezing my body and stroking my breasts. The intimate contact gives me even more energy, and I redouble my efforts.

After a while I start to feel tired. I have not managed to strike a telling blow and I am not making any impression. All the effort is not making any difference in the audacity of his touches.

I slow down, sweating and breathing hard.

The man gloats at my loss of fight. "Are you sure you don't mind me looking at you?"

I swear at him.

The man just laughs. "You have such a sexy voice too. Do you know how much it turns me on to hear a woman talk dirty?"

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I am me and you are you. I am in control, and you are naked, and that is all that matters."

I hold my tongue. I am not getting anywhere.

I am not sure what I should be doing. The man is obviously strong and healthy. He is very certain of himself. I suspect that if I were to see him I would probably find him very attractive. More than that, he has not hurt me in any way. He is not a sadistic torturer. The worst he has done so far is to tickle me. I have to privately admit that his touch was not creepy in any way; in fact it is more fun than irritating.

"Have you finished looking at me?" I ask. I am certain that he can smell my arousal. I remember that earlier I didn't bring myself off, and he must be aware how juicy my wet spot is.

"Yes," the man says.

I decide that this is a chance to take back the initiative. "Then will you please leave!" I demand. "You have no right to keep me against my will."

"I didn't say that I would leave when I finished looking at you. I only said that I would leave when I was finished. Right now I am still busy touching you. Maybe I'll leave when I have finished with that."

"You are the most infuriating man," I say.

"Why don't you throw another tantrum?" the man invites me. "You look so helpless and alluring when you struggle."

I say nothing, and his hands continue playing with my breasts. His point is made: resistance is futile.

Not that I really want to resist. His strong hands are causing a chain reaction that goes down to my middle and stokes a fire that has suddenly broken out between my loins. When I fell asleep I needed a man. Now that I have woken I find myself naked with a man. True, I can't see him. True, I didn't originally invite him. But does any of that matter? This man is not forcing himself on me without any regard for me. He knows what he is doing, exciting my body with a desire that I will soon not be able to control.

His one hand drifts down my stomach. I know exactly where it is going.

"What do you think you're doing?" I challenge.

"I want to feel your pussy. Do wish to raise an objection?"

"Yes," I say.

"You are overruled," the man says with finality. His hand touches me between my legs.

I instinctively close my legs against him, but his probing fingers find their target all the same. I can't stop an involuntary moan of pleasure from escaping my lips. This man is good; he is pressing all the right buttons. The more he touches me, the more I can feel my body responding. My hips start to move along with the forward and backward motion of his fingers as they slowly, tantalizingly head for their destination: my clitoris.

I can hear the man breathing heavily as if he is doing heavy exercise. He is obviously also being affected by what he is doing. And why not? Which man would not enjoy having a young naked woman completely under his control?

The pleasure becomes unbearable as the man goes about arousing me still further. Within a short while, my body that had already been primed to the full by the book, surprises both of us. I buck up and down as a chillingly powerful orgasm takes control of my body. I try to writhe away and avoid the chilling series of mind-blowing explosions that almost rip me apart, but it is useless: the man keeps up his devilish pressure, driving me deeper and deeper into a mind-numbing experience I have never dreamed of. Each little touch on my clit causes new explosions that brings delicious pleasure to me, but that cause my body to jerk against the bonds he has tied to my wrists. Somehow even the pain seems almost pleasurable.

Finally I just simply cannot continue cumming. Exhausted, I let my head fall back.

I am only given a brief moment to rest. The man chuckles, and something about his tone tells me that he is about to take his pleasure. I am still breathing like a steam train, so I am simply unable to argue with him. I don't think that I would have argued anyway: my body wants to feel a real cock inside me, rather than a finger.

The man is now between my legs. He is holding my calves apart and I sense that he is lining his body against mine. I lie still without visibly encouraging or discouraging him.

The man laughs out loud. "This must be the wettest pussy I've seen for a long time. Are you ready for me, my fine flower?"

I don't say anything. It feels as if there's something stuck in my throat. It does not matter: it is patently obvious that my body is ready and eager.

I feel a warm pressure on my pussy. It is his cock slowly and gently rubbing against my pussy lips. At first the head merely rides up and down my pussy slit as if marking the area that it is about to enter. I notice that he has a slight movement just as his cock reaches the area of my clit that sparks a little pulse of fire through me. Then, with exquisite timing, the tip of the head of his rod parts the protecting folds of my pussy without actually entering me.

I feel as if I am being toyed with. I am starting to want, no, need, this man to enter me, and to get the pleasure that his skilled penis can give me. I hear myself sigh softly, hoping that he would stop teasing me and instead do what he so clearly wants to do: fuck me long and hard.

This is not his immediate intention. The cock pulls away, and immediately my pussy lips close again.

I feel a tinge of disappointment. Has the man changed his mind?

He has not. His cock pushes against my pussy again. This time he squeezes in a little more deeply than before, once again making that move against my clit. I eagerly push against him, all pretence of reluctance over.

The man laughs softly. "So you want some of this nice hard cock, don't you?"

I moan again. I hope he is not going to force me to beg him because I don't think that I would go for that.

The man once again draws out, but this time I try to keep him inside me. I am defeated, and I am left humping thin air.

"You want it bad, don't you?" the man taunts me.

I moan again and lie still, waiting for that delightful piece of manflesh to enter me again.

He enters me again. This time two inches of his cock slips into my body. I reward him by milking his cock with my pussy using a little trick I read about somewhere.