Flesh for Fantasy

I'll always remember my first sight of Mel under the shower. Turned sideways, rubbing oil on her arms and legs. Showing a bit of boob and arse. Billy Idol playing. I'll always remember how my heart was pounding, how I strained not to move, not to do anything to draw her attention. Forcing my breath to slow down as I watched her hands slide up to rub her tits...

Mel and I had been moving in the same circles for a while. Not quite friends, but more than acquaintances. She was pretty, with that coffee-and-milk skin and tight curls that came down to her shoulders. Big brown eyes and a warm smile. Nice curvy figure too. But when we first met I was seeing someone, and by the time we broke up she had a boyfriend. When that was over we'd probably grown used to each other and nothing sparked.

Then one Saturday there was a comedy show at a pub near where she lived. An established comedian was trying out some new material, and none of our other friends wanted to go. We had a good time together, laughing at the funny bits, laughing more at the jokes where the lady was clearly struggling, and afterwards we had a couple of drinks.

When we left the pub it was pouring, so Mel suggested that I crash at her place. Usually I'm not eager for that -- I'm too set in my ways to spend the night on someone's couch anymore -- but the weather truly was foul, and she promised me a whole bedroom to myself, with a proper bed.

Don't worry, I'm about to get to the good bit.

When I woke next morning, it took me a moment to remember where I was. We'd gone easy on the booze, so I wasn't groggy beyond the usual. But the satin sheets and stylish bedroom confused me for an instant.

I heard Mel's door opening, and her steps as she went from her room to the bathroom. She had a nice apartment, and I remembered her telling proudly a few weeks earlier about renovating her bathroom. She'd added a walk-in shower, and one of those fancy heated mirrors with Bluetooth.

There came the sound of her brushing her teeth, and the splashing of the shower being turned on. Then music came on. I recognised "Hot In the City" by Billy Idol. I decided I'd take the opportunity to pop out to the loo for a wizz, so I wouldn't run into her and be embarrassed by my morning semi trying to escape my shorts and say hello.

That done, the next stop was the kitchen to make some coffee. Or so I thought. The kitchen was down the corridor, past the bathroom. As I approached, I noticed that the bathroom door was open just a crack. The sound of the shower was clear, and I could hear Mel humming along with the music. "Eyes Without A Face" was on by now.

I stopped. Well, I wouldn't be human if I hadn't. Or at least not a male human, I suppose. The crack was just wide enough for me to peer inside.

The angle of the door faced away from the shower, but my heart gave a skip when I realised that the mirror was in full view. That heated, steam-proof mirror. It gave me a full view of Mel.

The side of the shower was open, exposing her entire body to my gaze, apart from the bit below the knees. That was alright, though, I decided. She was sideways to the mirror, so I was looking at the curve of her arse, with a hint of side-boob.

She was rubbing a shower oil on her arms, making her olive skin shine and glow. Her tits wobbled a bit with the movement, and I caught glimpses of dark nipple whenever her hand went up or down.

I could have stopped there, I suppose. Stepped back and continued on my way to the kitchen. Made myself that coffee, parked myself in front of the telly. Concentrated on keeping my willy under control and filed the memory away for when I got home.

I could have, and perhaps I should. But I didn't. Instead, I forced myself to breathe very slowly and stand as still as I could. Make no sound, no movement. Nothing that might attract her attention.

She reached up and took the bottle of oil from a rack, and I saw her boobs properly. They were gorgeous. I'd occasionally admired them through a T-shirt or blouse, but in the flesh, so to speak, they were stunning.

Large but not too large. A bit more than a handful. Firm, with that jiggle that fixes a man's attention like the motion of a snake hypnotises small animals. Small brown nipples that contrasted nicely with her skin.

That morning semi of mine had become decidedly hard.

I watched as she poured more oil onto her hand, returned the bottle, then began to rub her legs. I held my breath, willing her to-- yes, she turned! Her tits were hanging down, swaying with her movements, and below her stomach my eyes went to the patch of dark curls.

It was obvious that she kept them trimmed, but not shaved. The water had plastered them to her mound, with a small tuft hanging down. I looked in vain to see her lips, but the way she was standing made that impossible. Still, it was a tantalising view.

She reached up again, turning away, then with more oil on her hands began to rub her lower back and her arse. And she turned so I could see. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose, I thought. Not that I was complaining.

Her arse was full and round. Not a bubble-butt, which I always think looks weird and a bit unnatural. It looked firm, and I remembered she was an enthusiastic runner. Good for her. Good for me. I watched as her hands spread the oil over her cheeks and down her crack. I caught myself biting on my lip.

Her hair hung wet across her back. There was a white cream or something in it -- probably one of those masks or other mysteries that women talk about. It plastered her curls down and made her hair fall longer than I was used to.

The oil made her skin shine all over, and I became aware that the bathroom was steaming up a little. That magical mirror stayed perfectly clear, though, and the steam rose so my view wasn't obstructed.

And my view wasn't obstructed as her hands slipped round to rub across the slight feminine curve of her belly, then up to those delicious breasts. She spread the oil all across them, squeezing them with her hands as she did. I could see the veins through the thin skin around her nipples.

I began to worry about what would happen if she suddenly decided she was done showering. The music would hopefully cover my footsteps as I moved away, but if she caught a flash of movement in the mirror...

Luckily for me though, with her skin all oiled up, it seemed she had time to kill. She stood, luxuriating in the streaming water, turning this way and that. I watched almost breathlessly as she gave me a full view of her naked self. Her nipples had hardened, and now that she was standing up straight I could see a pair of dark lips peeping out between her pubes.

She reached up to rinse her hair, sputtering a little as the water cascaded over her face. Her tits were stretched up too, as if presenting themselves fully for my inspection.

When she was done with her hair, she rubbed her face, then turned around again. Her hands slid over her body, starting to stroke and tease. They rubbed over her thighs before sliding round behind her to squeeze her arse for a moment.

Then they returned to her boobs. She grasped her tits in either hand and pressed them together. When she let go, the skin was taut, the veins showing blue. She gave each nipple a quick pinch in turn.

One hand slid down across her belly, to the patch of dark hair. She ran her fingers through it, playing with the curls, then her hand slipped between her legs. I watched in fascination, my heart thudding, as she rubbed slowly back and forth, then she lifted her hand to her face and examined it.

Even from where I was standing, I could tell her fingers were coated in her cream. She opened her mouth and sucked them in, one by one. I might have given a bit of a whimper just then.

I was forcing myself to breathe slowly and steadily. My legs were trembling with the effort of standing still, and from excitement. I was also making sure my hand stayed away from my cock. One tug could have sent me to the point of no return.

Still, I almost gave in when I saw Mel reach up again, and this time in her hand she held a dildo. A dark grey silicon thing with a suction cup, I saw. She brought it up to her face, like her fingers a moment ago, and ran her tongue along its length, sensuously tracing the shaft and circling the bulbous head.

My heart was pounding so fast I thought she'd probably hear it over the music. The song had finished, and now "Flesh For Fantasy" was playing.

The head of the dildo disappeared into Mel's mouth, followed by most of its length. She thrust it in and out a few times, head tilted back and eyes closed. Her free hand was between her legs. I could see her fingers flicking away.

Then she pulled the silicon cock out of her mouth and opened her eyes. Turning to the wall, and giving me a glimpse of her pussy as she bent over, she pressed the suction cup against the stone. No hesitation about the best spot either. Clearly she knew where to put it.

Now she turned back and raised one leg slightly. Leaning against the wall with one arm, she reached down with her other hand. I saw her grasp the grey head and rub it along her slit. Her eyes closed again as the dildo pressed against her entrance.

A moan escaped as she let herself slide onto it. Bit by bit the grey shaft disappeared inside her. She lowered her leg so she was standing on both feet again. Rocking her hips back and forth, she forced herself back against the wall until the dildo was all the way inside.

Even over the music I could hear her breath, hissing in and out between her teeth like a whistle. Her eyes were shut tight, her hands were on her knees. Sometimes she slowed, or even stopped, and ground her arse as it was impaled on the dildo. Then she'd start thrusting back and forth again, pressing herself against the stone as far as she could go. Her boobs jiggled rhythmically with her movements.

One hand slid up her thigh, fingers squeezing all the way. When they reached her waist, they slipped down over her belly and between her legs. I could see them seek out her entrance where the dildo was pushing in and out of her.

Then her hand came back forward and she gave a moan when her fingers found her clit. Faster and faster she started rocking back and forth, and faster and faster her hand rubbed at herself.

I could tell her body was building up to her climax. Her breathing was all moans and gasps now, shuddering and irregular. The music was loud enough that I wouldn't have heard it if I hadn't been standing right by the door, but she was clearly getting close.

The hand that was still on her knee came up and squeezed her boob, pinching at her nipple and pulling it out. Suddenly she gave a high-pitched wail and froze, then pushed herself back once, twice, each thrust sending another shiver through her body. Her free tit jiggled, and she sagged forward, gasping, resting hands on knees again.

After a long moment she took half a step forward. The dildo slid out of her, sticking out from the wall. For an instant it was covered in her white cream, then the water from the shower rinsed it clean.

Grasping it, Mel gave a twist to pull it off the wall with a squelching sound. She sniffed at it for an instant, then returned it to its place on the shelf. Her hands slid over her body again, cupping her pussy for a moment, before she took a sponge and a bottle of soap.

I decided that the show was over for me. Carefully I took one step back, then another. My breath rasped in my throat, my heart pounded in my chest. My cock throbbed in my hand. I didn't remember taking it out of my shorts, and hastily I shoved it back inside.

Should I return to the guest bedroom and wank? It was tempting. But it felt a bit icky, masturbating in Mel's guest bedroom. Plus, I wanted to savour the memory. When I had that wank, I wanted to take all the time in the world and relive every second.

So I decided to go and make coffee, like I'd originally intended. Then pull on my clothes, and hope that all this distracted me enough that my cock would behave when Mel emerged from the shower.

When she did, dressed in a bathrobe and wrapping a towel around her hair, I was sitting in front of the telly with a mug of coffee. Mr Tug had settled down at last, although he warned me he was on stand-by.

"Morning," Mel said cheerfully as she walked to the kitchen to pour herself a mug. "Did you sleep alright?"

We made small talk for a while and chatted about the comedy show. When I'd finished my coffee I rose and started making my farewells.

Mel walked me to the front door. Just as I was about to step outside, I gathered my resolve.

"Hey listen," I said. "I've had a really great time. Would you maybe want to have dinner one of these days? Just you and me. Like a date."

My heart was pounding again as I waited for her reply. The moment seemed to drag on for an eternity, but at last she smiled. "Yes," she said, "I'd like that."

Trying to hide my sigh of relief, I leaned forward to kiss her goodbye on her cheek. Instead, she seized my face between her hands and pressed her lips against mine. When she let go, she looked me steadily in the eye and whispered, "I know you were watching."