Fantasy Ch. 01byRichard_Evans©
[ Author's notes : First and foremost, thank you for making it to this story! I greatly appreciate the time, no matter how little, that you've put into getting to my work. With that said, please comment and rate - let me know what you liked and what you didn't like. I want to improve and become better of the sake of creating a more enjoyable experience for anyone that reads me. So please, relax and (hopefully) enjoy my first submission.
Richard Evans ]
I know that there was certain unwritten rules to life that have dire social consequences when broken, but I've never lived my life in stark consideration for other people. It's only by pure happenstance that I haven't desecrated those invisible social bonds sooner because such limitations tend to hinder my sexual fantasies. The big one in question though was my love for seducing women and getting them to commit adultery. Terrible, I know, but there is something appealing about stealing from another man -- especially when, as some point, they start coming back to you because you can fulfill their needs a little better than he can. I guess it's the sense of domination, superiority, that moves me in those situations. Either way, those feelings put me on the prowl and makes no woman, in a relationship with whoever, safe.
Usually circumstances have it that I make the first move; I have to play the devil and start that small fire of lust and fan it with the occasional comment, the seemingly friendly touch, the personal phone calls, then the explicit text. But with this girl, she came straight to me without a word of temptation.
Her name was, well her name doesn't matter. She talked to me through facebook, like all of my other friends did. But every time she said something to me, there was always that hidden energy -- a little face here and there or the outwardly sexual comment -- that made me think something to happen between us. At the time she was my good friend's girlfriend and he was a really nice guy. Really romantic, very much in love with her, but he was clingy. He always wanted to be around her, if she went out, he would want to tag along. She never got a chance to miss him -- so she got tired of him. She started sneaking away from him, lying, hanging out with friends and leaving him in the dark. There were even a couple of isolated incidents that spread through our clique about her cheating. It was unavoidable though, we all felt, and so we kept mister nice-guy unaware of his girl's antics, figuring it was just a phase. Well, her infidelity continued and it's wicked nature somehow found it's way to me.
I was on facebook early in the morning, catching up on anything I might have missed while I was sleep. As it turns out, she was doing the same thing. She messaged me. Hey, how are you doing, she said, idly chit-chat. Nothing much, I replied and the conversation was on auto-pilot for the next couple of minutes; what are you up to today? How's the family? Yea, that party was crazy, I can't wait to do it again. But things too a noticeable turn for the unsavory when I asked her what she had planned for the night and she said you. Me? I thought and as I did, she added a semi-colon and a bracket. A winking smile. Just a game I figured, so I asked her what time was she coming over. She said three and that I was going to teach her how to play street fighter. Ok, awesome, I said before closing the facebook window.
About fifteen minutes later, I got a text from her. She was asking if anyone at my place would be home. No one would be, my grandmother would be out for some reason or anything, leaving me the house to myself. So I told her we'd have the run of the place, so bring some music to blast. She just responded with another one of those smiles and presumably went about her day as I did mine. I ran errands all morning and into the afternoon which really made the time fly. In the middle of my last task, she texted me, reminding me of our date and then imposing dire consequences if I stood her up. I told her whatever, and that I'd see her when she got to my place. Which I then headed back to.
Back at home, I took a shower and changed into a t-shirt and put by on the jeans I wore all day. Now I had a really peculiar taste in jeans. Where most people like to sag, I preferred a tight fit around the hips and a slim fit on the legs. I think it just accents my large physique and adds a little finesse to my appearance, which I could definitely use since I'm about six-feet even, dark skin with a clumsy nature, big brown eyes and large lips. Anyway, she was punctual and was calling me to let her in a little after three. I opened the door. She was five-eight, Mexican decent with the tan yellow skin that characterized it, she had dark brown eyes, a waterfall hair-do, pouty pink lips and was a fan of the 'Ga-Ga' standard of dressing. Her worn black leggings with pink leg warmers, a vest that looked ripped straight from Michael Jackson's Beat it video and just a bra underneath -- a very small bra at that. She was only an a-cup at best. But what she lacked in the chest, she made up for with hips that went on for days. She caught me looking, as she hoped. With a bright smile, that instantly reminded me of the semi-colon and bracket, she reached up and hugged me around the neck.
"What's up boy?" She cooed, lowering herself from the tips of her toes in front of me.
"Nothin' much." I replied turning on my heels, "I've got my stuff set up in the basement." I led the way and she eagerly followed. I could tell she was looking around the house from the pace of her steps and honestly, there wasn't much to look at. I lived here with my retired grandmother, taking care of things around the house that she couldn't handle and helping her here and there in exchange for a place to stay for free. It was a sweet deal, since she mixed her habits of washing and iron in with my stuff. So on a weekly basis my laundry was done for me. But there was nothing but pictures adorning sofa tables and counters, with the occasional half-filled mug of coffee here or there. Nothing worth noting.
The basement was the same way. I'd brought a 19 inch LCD TV down to set on a small collapsible table and I moved the spare couch down there to be right in front of the TV. My xbox was hooked up and a the game was on pause in training mode. I'd been practicing explaining some of the basics to myself before I tried to help her. She grabbed the second controller had laid out and we got right to the gaming. The screen was filled with command inputs, fireballs and flailing limbs as she steadily tried to repeat whatever I'd just done. I was so focused on the game though that I didn't notice her moving, writhing even. Her body twisted on the couch, inching closer and closer to me, until she eventually laid down on her back, her head in my lap, while still looking at the TV.
I jumped with surprise, well mostly my heart did, then continued with our training session. A few minutes after that, she became unresponsive. Her character just staring at mine with a blank silence between them; no punches, no kicks, just their digital game faces that prompted a foreboding sense of tension. I turned my head to her and there she was, looking at me with a very innocent longing in her eyes, as if she wasn't on her back, chest up and legs a part.
"You're done?" I asked, knowingly.
"No," She said, rolling onto her stomach, hands bracing against my thigh. "I just want to play something else."
Cliché, I thought as she placed her hand onto my crotch. I tossed the controller aside and leaned wayward to kiss her, taking those full lips between my own and savoring the sensation while she massaged me to attention. Once hard, she undid my belt, pulled it from around my waist like a ripcord, unbuttoned my jeans and then stared impressed. Now, I say this not to be arrogant or cocky (no pun intended), but women seem to love my size. It's not because I'm long -- not saying I'm small either -- but I'm thick. Very thick. In fact, her fingers barely touched as she wrapped her hands around my girth which felt like warm steel in her hand.
She placed small, loving kisses on the head with those big lips and pucker her mouth and ran it along the seam of the shaft, before she finally opened wide and took me in her mouth. She was no expert, with her tongue lashing at wild intervals with no sense of pace, but it did serve to further excite me; a fire rising in my stomach causing my to tangle my fingers up in her hair and pull her up from her duties for a sloppy, musky kiss with plenty of tongue. Her body completely reared up at that point, and she pumped by member with tight, heavy motions. Breathlessly, my hand slid into those leggings and her knees went further a part. Fingertips brushed against fine-trimmed hair and then touched against a that familiar knot just before her opening and the source of the warm humidity in her pants. Deviously, my fingers rotated against her clit, enticing shutters from her body, the tightening of her stomach and, what I loved the most, a husky moan straight from her lips to mine.
She then committed herself to peeling off those leggings and the small panties she wore underneath, afterward she shed the vest then bra. There she was, naked before me, desperate to show herself and be touched. I just sat there and extended a hand to her, which she took as she came to straddle the outside of my thighs. Her sex sat against mine, it's warm pulse dripping liquid anticipation down the length of me, while my hands braced along the small of her back, just above that shapely bottom. We shared more kisses, then I attacked her neck and collarbone, gradually descending until I held her nipple firmly between her lips. There was, unfortunately, little weight behind it and it felt as if I were right against her chest but these cons were washed away as her hands came to cradle the back of my head and she kissed and bit the top of my ear, breathing onto the side of my face.
As I went to the other nipple, she reached beneath herself, fondling by testicles then gripping my thick shaft and angling it to go inside of her. I felt the head right at the entrance of her warmth and as if sucked heavily on that nipple, a deep sigh accompanied her drop onto me. It was wet and smooth and tight. A feeling I'll never forget. I'd filled her up and she whimpered while falling against me, her face buried in my shoulder. Her stomach heaved with each exhale and her mouth was agape with new found pleasure. She kissed my black kiss in thanks, her hands traveling to my waist and pulling up my shirt.
"Are you ok?" I asked, knowing I've hurt some girls in the past.
She could only nod, her mouth still wordlessly open with aloof excitement. My shirt was pulled overhead. Dainty fingers raked across my chest before settling on my pectorals where she braced herself. Up and down, she continuously dropped herself onto me, a throaty whine resonating from clenched lips every time. Her eyes were half-lidded an focused either on me or the ceiling, my eyes, however, remained glues onto her little dark nipples. I braced my hands on her bottom, fingers dipping shadow into her tan yellow flesh, and provided a little extra force, guiding her down with increased lust and raising her to the very tip of my manhood. The length that she constantly received made shivers run up and down her spine until she actually started going limp from the sensation.
Her head lolled back, and fingers bent against my body, as if she'd given herself completely to me in tired submission. Her mouth was still open, still shocked by the intensity of the passion. I put one hand up on her back, between her shoulders and I wrapped up her bottom with the other arm. With relatively ease, I rocked up from the seat and spun to lay her down on the couch with me still inside of her. There were no objections as legs wrapped around my waist and her hand clenched my shoulders, nails anchoring against tight, dark flesh.
Our noses touched as she sunk into the cushions of the couch, she took that as a signal to kiss me, which she did. I kept it short though, as I put one leg on the couch and the other on the floor. It was awkward, but the couch wasn't wide enough to fit us both, but with one leg on the floor, I had more leverage, so it worked out. I started off slow and shallow, wet flesh grinding against wet flesh with a sticky hiss. Then I sped up until petite moans drifted off of her lips like a lustful fog, filling the air with their thrall. I brought my lips down to attach to her neck, kissing and sucking her skin while I did my work. She voice grew frantically, the pitch bending and gasps interluding. Moments later she came. Her body twitched around me and her legs frantically clutched my waist then kicked out, toes curling while her hands desperately clutched my shoulders. I was silent as her pried her off of me and sat next to her. She reoriented herself and grabbed the length of me, pumping me to climax all over her knuckles and wrist with the faintest of moans issuing from my lips.
"Don't tell him." She said, grabbing my shirt and wiping her hand off with it.
"Don't tell him what?" I countered, wanting to say something about why it had to by my shirt, but I didn't.
"Thank you." And just like that she dressed and left, while I stayed in the basement and continued to play street fighter naked with a warm cloud of regret drifting over my head, ready to let loose the rains of guilt.
I couldn't tell him. I wouldn't tell him.
This was going to destroy me on the inside.