Fantasy and Reality

Most erotica is fantasy. And this story is too. I don't know the people involved, not even their names, and I present this story to my readers as a fantasy for their enjoyment. Put whatever names you want in for the characters, perhaps yourself, perhaps a co-worker, perhaps your spouse, or a neighbor, or just an attractive man or woman you saw at Starbucks last week—anyone you want to give it a feel of reality to you. The point is erotica is fantasy that needs to feel like reality to the reader, no matter how extreme or unlikely the actions described seem to be. Enjoy.

Oh, and please don't get hung up on the fact that this couple is married, but not to each other. This couple is engaged in adultery, and they have no qualms about it. As I said, it's a fantasy. If that bothers you, skip this story.

She reclined the passenger side seat in the rental car and looked at her co-worker who was about to start the car. They had known each other for years, but since they each ran a different regional office (he in Orlando, she in Minneapolis) they only saw each other at the periodic meetings in the home office in suburban Chicago. Much too infrequent for her tastes, she thought. As he returned her glance he noticed how the seat belt nestled between her good-sized breasts made them stand out.

"Do you think I'm hot?" she asked.

"What?"

"You heard me. Do you think I'm hot?"

"What the heck? We just came from the corporate sexual abuse lecture and now you're asking me a question like that. Is this a test? Are you wearing a wire?"

She giggled. "No. Just curious."

He continued to look at her with his eyes wide open, like he was staring at a snake trying to decide whether it was about to strike.

"All right, I didn't mean to freak you out. But, I just thought the whole lecture was a little unrealistic."

"Oh. I can't disagree with that." There wasn't quite a full tone of relief in his response.

"Yes. I mean we ask men and women to work together, and then we act with shock and dismay when they are attracted to each other."

"I don't think it's the attraction part that the Company objects to. It's what you do about that attraction, especially if you're a guy."

"Oh, are you feeling picked on? Double standard and all that?"

"No, of course not. It's not like I run around telling the women who work for me they have to sleep with me if they want to get ahead. So, no I'm not worried about it."

"I'll bet you've thought about it."

"What? Demanding sex for a raise or a promotion? Absolutely not."

"Okay, maybe not that, but I'll bet you've thought about what it would be like to screw one of the gals who work for you."

"No, no. I don't go there."

"Oh come on. We all know you're a boy scout, and we're fine with it. It makes you easier to work around. But really, you never have fantasies about any of the girls in your office?"

"What about you?" he asked, moving to the offense. "What about the guys in your office?"

"Me? I thought this conversation was about you."

"It doesn't have to be. It's already moved way beyond the guidance they gave us today, so it might as well be double sided. If you want to hear my fantasies, you'll have to tell me yours."

She laughed. "Is this a new version of the old 'I'll show you mine, if you show me yours' line?"

He laughed. "No, no. Not going there." He was still a little worried about where this conversation was going, but he was quickly getting more curious than worried.

"I hadn't thought of that," she said, "But that would be a pretty good fantasy."

"What would?"

"Well, imagine if I, or you, were sitting on a long boring airplane ride, we might let our mind run to what could happen if the two of us were sitting in a rental car, just the two of us, in a totally empty parking lot, like this one."

"You mean like we are now?"

"Well, yes like we are now, but remember this is a fantasy I might have on an airplane. It's all just in my head. Nothing really happens."

"Nothing?"

She giggled. "Well, I might get a little . . . how shall I say . . . aroused."

"You mean horny," he responded.

"It can happen if the fantasy is good enough. Airplane rides are long and dull and . . ."

There was a silence, as they looked at each other.

"Yes, it can," he agreed.

"You too?"

"Yes," he said, speaking almost under his breath.

"But of course," he continued, "Nothing is really going to happen. It's just a fantasy."

"Yours or mine?" she asked.

"Oh that's an interesting choice of words. 'Your place or mine'?"

She laughed. "I didn't say that."

"No, you didn't, but . . ."

"And I didn't mean that."

"I know. You meant . . . I think . . . 'What's going on in your head, or in mine.'"

"Yeah something like that, I'm sure."

"So what's going on in your head?" he asked.

"You mean right now?"

"Yes."

"Pretty much the same thing as I suspect is going on in your head."

"You think so?" he asked. "I always thought better of you."

"Oh, you think I'm a girl scout, eh?" she shifted in her seat turning her body more towards him. Her skirt slid well up on her thighs. She saw him noticing . . . and liked it.

"Aren't you?" he asked. "I mean you heard the lecture. We're both supposed to be good little scouts."

"So I heard."

There was a long silence and then she continued, "But we're not, are we?"

"No I don't think so," he said, "At least not in our heads." He was looking pointedly at her legs.

"Oh definitely not there. I can't speak for you, but there is nothing going on in my head at the moment that would be approved by today's speaker," she responded.

"Me too," he confessed. He was still staring at her legs. She squirmed a little, trying to rub her pussy lips together, and making the skirt ride up a little higher. Neither said anything for a long silence. He was enjoying staring at her legs and she was enjoying showing them to him, enjoying his so socially incorrect stare.

"So who goes first?" he asked.

"I'll start," she said. "This is all just in my head of course."

"Of course."

"So here we are sitting in a rental car in an empty parking lot with a couple of hours to kill before we have to show up for a very dull dinner that is only a five-minute drive away."

"And we've been discussing the details of the corporate sensitivity lecture," he responded.

"But somehow, I don't know how it happened, our conversation has gotten a good deal more graphic than the sanitized version the HR folks delivered."

"It certainly has," he said with a chuckle.

She smiled at his comment.

"You mean," he said, "we are discussing, just hypothetically, what two people, aroused people, might do sitting in a car in an empty parking lot while they talk about the sex lecture."

"Yes, but of course they have gone quite a ways beyond the sex lecture," she said.

"In your fantasy, right?"

"Right."

"I see. Can you tell me more?"

"Yes, but It's just in my head, of course," she responded.

"Of course." He could feel his dick swelling beneath his pants.

She could feel her nipples swelling. I wonder if he can see them, she thought. She squirmed again, pulling her skirt even a bit higher yet.

He noticed. She has lovely legs, he thought.

"Well, in my fantasy," she said, "I might be telling you about how I sometimes watch porn at night on the hotel room TV."

"I see, and do you have a favorite kind that you are telling me about?" His dick was really beginning to make a lump in his trousers now. "Do you watch lesbian porn?"

"No. For me porn should include cocks."

"Cocks, plural?"

"Well, at least one. And it should be big. More than one is good too. And it's okay if the ladies fool around a bit, but there must be cocks. . . . and fucking."

"I see." His cock was becoming uncomfortable as it grew in his trousers. "And cock sucking too? Should there be some serious cock sucking?

"Oh yes. I love cock sucking."

"And pussy eating? How about that? Is that important too?"

"Umm, yes. Porn should have all of those."

They stared at each other in silence. Each was savoring his or her personal images of the sex acts.

"After all," she continued, "Porn is really just fantasy too, so it should be built around what people want to see rather than getting all messed up with reality. I just don't think I could really enjoy a porn flick where a guy with a little bitty dick couldn't get it up." She squirmed in her seat again. She could feel herself getting wet.

He laughed. "I can't argue with that," He said. "A lot of the porn I watch is pretty unrealistic. But that's not a complaint mind you."

"Oh, so you watch porn too?" she asked.

He smiled, and said, "Not really a boy scout."

"Well, just in my fantasy, my fantasy about sitting in the car with you, I tell you about a porn clip I watched in which a couple slowly strips their clothes off and then . . ." she pauses. "Well you can imagine what comes next."

"Do they fuck?" he asks, realizing that just the use of word was way beyond the limits.

"No."

"No? What a shame. I like the fucking part of porn flicks."

"I'll bet you do."

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Then he asked "So what happens next, after they are naked?"

"They masturbate."

"Oh how nasty," he says. "I like it. In my version, it starts out with the couple talking about sex as they sit in a car in an empty parking lot. They are still fully dressed but they are both getting incredibly horny, and then . . ."

"Oh," she interrupts, "you mean, like maybe he has a big lump that is showing beneath his trousers."

"Ahh . . . er . . .yeah, but just in my fantasy." He reaches down and adjusts his pants to make room for his growing cock, making no attempt to hide his action. She watches closely. The adjustment provides comfort, but does nothing to hide the growing lump in his trousers.

"Yes, just in your fantasy," she responds with just a touch of sarcasm. "Well just in our fantasy." She continues. "Not in the real world."

"Oh, so he's got a hardon in your fantasy too?" he says.

"It certainly looks like it."

He makes another adjustment to his pants. She squirms a bit in her seat again. She can definitely feel the moisture seeping from her pussy.

"And so, what happens next?" he asks.

"You mean for our couple sitting in the car in the empty parking lot?"

"Yes."

"Oh, a couple of things. First, she opens the buttons on her blouse and takes it off, throwing it over the seat. She still has her bra on of course, but he can see her good-sized breasts swelling over the tops of the bra cups." As she speaks she removes her blouse and tosses it over the seat.

"So I see," he says. The bra is a lacy material that does very little to conceal the breasts beneath it. He can see her large, pale brown areolas and the swollen, dark, brown nipples atop them. He wants so badly to reach out and fondle her luscious looking tits. He lets his hand fall to his lap where it lays on his engorged cock, as her stares in lust at her tits. His cock is still in his pants, but his hand is laying on it. He lets his fingertips lightly stroke it through the thin cloth of his trousers. She watches closely.

There is another long silence while they stare each other, he lasciviously at her barely covered tits. She at his fingers lightly stroking his erect cock and at his eyes staring at her tits. They both feel totally decadent.

"She wants to take more off, but, . . . "

"That would be wonderful," he interrupts. "He would really like to see her breasts. Does she want to show them to him?"

"Yes. It is really a turn on for her," she says. The lacy material of her bra is barely containing her tits. She puts her hands beneath them and holds them out to him.

"Oh, and she has lovely breasts," he says as he watches her hold her tits out to him.

"Yes, and it is incredibly hot showing off to him this way." Her language is no longer distinguishing between her fantasy and reality. "As it happens," she continues, "her bra is front fastening so she just releases it and her boobs are fully exposed." Her bra cups fall away as she speaks. Her tits are large and soft. She tosses the bra over the back seat after the blouse.

"Oh, even better," he says.

She leans back against the car door, naked from the waist up now. Pulling her feet up onto the car seat and letting her knees fall open, she watches in silence as he stares at her tits and rubs his cock though his pants. She wonders if he can see a wet spot on her panties.

"Then what happens . . . in your fantasy?" he asks.

"I tell him he better pull that cock out before he stains his trousers."

"Oh, you'd really do that?" he asks.

"In my fantasy, I would."

"And would he? Would he pull his cock out?"

"I certainly hope so, because I really want to see it. I told you, I really like cocks."

She is fondling her breasts now, watching raptly as he slowly releases his belt and trousers. The empty parking lot is behind the building where their meeting was held and everything is silent. The opening zipper fills the silence. He lifts his hips and pushes his trousers down around his knees. His engorged cock fills his white jockey shorts, outlined in detail. There is a wet spot that has soaked through the fabric at the tip of his cock.

"Oh yes he definitely pulls his cock out . . . in my fantasy, that is." She is using her thumbs to rub her nipples now.

He still has a hand on his cock. He is rubbing the slick spot where his precum has soaked through his jockey shorts. "That's a pretty lurid fantasy you're having," he says.

"Are you enjoying it?" Her skirt is around her hips now, and she is using a hand to rub her pussy through her soaked panties.

"Yes," he whispers. "It looks like you are too."

"I am." She uses her fingers to hook her panties at the waist and push them down over her knees, leaving them hanging from one ankle. He finds something especially decadent about her panties hanging from one ankle, still there on her body, but not hiding or protecting anything, as though she was in such a hurry to get back to masturbating that she didn't take the time to finish taking her panties all the way off.

He lifts his hips and pulls his underwear down to his knees. It takes a little effort, but he manages to push his pants and his underwear down and over his feet so he is naked from the waist down. His cock is sticking straight out, fully engorged, its head glistening with precum. He is stroking it with both hands.

"You have a beautiful cock." She is now using both hands to masturbate, one to finger fuck herself and one to lightly circle her clit. "I've wondered for a long time what it might look like."

"Really? So you've had this fantasy before?"

"Lots of times, or at least some variant of it, that involved you and your beautiful cock."

"How did you know I had a beautiful cock?"

I didn't, but that's the beauty of fantasy. I just knew your cock had to be beautiful. Actually, it's even better than I imagined."

They are silent for a long time, watching each other masturbate.

"Fuck, I'm horny," she says.

"Me too, . . . but only in our fantasy."

"Of course," she says. "None of this is really happening." She groans as her fingers pull a swollen nipple away from her tit.

"Are we going to finish?" she asks, ignoring their attempt to preserve the fantasy.

"Of course," he says. "What kind of fantasy would we be having unless we both climaxed?"

"God, I hope so. I can't sit through dinner in this condition," the fantasy forgotten as she blatantly masturbates her tits and pussy.

He laughs. "We still have an hour and a half before we are due at dinner. Let's not rush. I'm enjoying this."

"Okay."

They watch each other masturbate in silence. It's midafternoon of a working day and there are sitting in an empty parking lot watching each other masturbate. It can't get dirtier than this she thinks.

"What about your wife?" she asks. She's using both hands to play with her tits now.

"What about your husband?"

"He doesn't masturbate."

"Bullshit. All men masturbate."

She laughs. "Women do too. I just meant he doesn't masturbate in front of me."

"Oh. You should get him to try it. I mean it's obvious that it is turning you on to be watching me masturbate and to be letting me watch you."

"Yeah, no shit," she says with a low gasp as she drops a hand from her breasts and runs two fingers into her dripping cunt.

"And watching you is definitely turning me on." He is slowly stroking his cock with his right hand, occasionally running his fingertips over the head of his cock and capturing the precum that is leaking there to use in lubing the rest of his prick.

"Does your wife watch you masturbate?" she asks.

"Yes. She loves it."

"So how do you do it, you and your wife?"

"Do it?"

"Masturbate. I mean in front of each other."

"Oh. Lots of ways. Sometimes we do it on the back porch and pretend the neighbors can see us. We did it in a boat in the middle of a big lake one time. We were naked from the waist down, but we looked fully dressed to anyone who cruised by."

"That's hot," she said.

"What I like the best is when we sit on opposite ends of the couch facing each other and read erotica. We start out fully clothed and just sit reading for maybe ten or 15 minutes. Then I notice her nipples poking through her T-shirt and she can see a lump in my trousers where my cock is swelling."

"Then what happens?"

"Well, we both usually start reading one handed at that point because the other hand is busy. After a while she might say, 'Those jeans are starting to look uncomfortable.' That's when I pull them off and sit there stroking my cock while I keep reading. Eventually we both wind up naked and playing with ourselves. That's about when I lose interest in the story and just sit and watch her. Erotic stories are good, but I really love watching my wife get herself off. Sometimes she uses a big dildo she has and tells me a story about how it's like the huge cock her other lover has."

"Does she have another lover?"

"Not that I know of."

"Just your wife? What about other women. Do you masturbate with other women?"

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite kinds of porn."

"Besides the porn? I meant do you do it with women other than your wife?"

"No . . . except with you, of course."

"Doesn't count. This is a fantasy. It's not really happening." They both laugh.

"Do you masturbate while you are watching a woman do it in a porn video?"

"Duh."

"Do you cum together, you and your wife?"

"We try to."

"Do you cum on her tits?"

"Yes, if she asks me to."

"She likes that?"

"Yes."

"And you? Do you like it?"

"Yeah it's hot. Does your husband cum on your tits?"

"No."

"He doesn't sound very creative."

"He's not. That's why I have to use my imagination."

"Oh, you mean like now?"

"Exactly," she says.

"Do you want me to cum on your tits?"

"Oh, what a nasty thought. Yes. But how are we going to do it? This car is pretty small."

He looks around. The parking lot is completely empty. There isn't a car in it and they are parked in a back corner. "There's no one here. Open your door and I'll come around to your side."

"Really?"

"There's no one here, and I need to cum. I'm getting close."

"Fuck, so am I." She is finger fucking herself again with one hand while the other hand lightly strokes her clit.

"Take the rest of your clothes off and then swing your legs out of the car so I can stand between them while I finish. We both have to be naked to do this right."

"Really? Can't you cum with your clothes on?"

"Get naked." he repeats. "I don't want to get something on your clothes or mine. We can't check into the hotel that way."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. That wouldn't be good would it." She chuckles at the notion.