Writing Stories

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How writing stories affect this woman.
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I am sitting here in my little home office writing about the naughty things I have done, and also about things I would like to do - even things I just dream about, fantasies. Some of the stories are so near the truth that it makes me remember the passion or excitement of that incident or adventure. Others are pure fantasy, created entirely in my mind, while some stories are about are things I have been involved with in some way. But all of them are a way of expressing my sexuality.

I always hope, of course, that someone out there reading my story will enjoy it, perhaps even reminding them of their own adventures. At least, I hope, I will make them feel sexy, turned on by my story.

However all these very admirable thoughts are just the ramblings of a thirty-nine year old woman, who has so far had a good and very enjoyable life with lots of sex and romance and married to a man whom she loves more that life itself.

So why do I write stories about sexy adventures? Because it turns me on, makes me so horny that I often can't wait for my man to return home. Instead I have to use my fingers or one of the toys that he loves to buy for me, to relieve the fantastic feelings generated by my writing down on the screen things that I could never tell a soul about in real life.

I recently wrote a story about a toy that my hubby gave me. Well, that's not exactly true; I think he bought it for himself to torment me with. Whatever his intentions it works like magic. It is one of those egg devices that inserts deep inside my pussy. Normally these come with a cord and a switch, giving the wearer or her partner, if he's close by, the control to thrill and please.

This one was different. It didn't have a cord. It was controlled by a remote switch. As soon as he gave it to me I knew it was going to cause me some very embarrassing moments. We tried it out and it was rather nice. He could sit in the lounge while I was cooking his dinner and by just flicking his remote on several yards away, the toy would send shivers through my body.

Perhaps I should tell you a little about our relationship. I am naturally submissive. I have no problem with being his little wife. We are not the more acceptable equal partners of our generation, coupled to the fact he is very forceful and slightly domineering. I suppose we make a perfect pair.

For those who haven't read my story 'Toys', I'll briefly recall what happened one time when he suggested I wear the egg out to dinner one evening. I didn't argue, just did as he asked, making sure I wore a tight pair of panties to prevent any disasters as the egg can slip out if I'm not careful, but only when I come.

He had to try it out in the car on the journey and several times during the evening. But I have told the story so I won't bore you with repeated details. Suffice it to say by the time we got home I was more than ready for anything he wanted of me.

I had that very sexy memory implanted in my head for all time, but when I wrote about it I got so turned on I had to give myself several climaxes while sitting at the keyboard,. Then as soon as he got home we made oh! Such passionate love in the hall. I didn't even give him time to take his coat off.

As I sit here writing this, I'm reliving some of the fantastic things we have done. I'm thinking about them, and putting them into words that may one day be published makes me so horny. I'm always wondering if someone out there is going to read my story and perhaps try out some of the naughty things I have described. Or maybe read it to their partner and make wonderful passionate love encouraged by my ramblings. Who knows? It may be you. Then, of course, there is the feedback. Most of it has been encouraging, helpful and even complimentary. On the other hand there is always going to be someone who hates it and takes the time and effort to say so.

Thank goodness the very negative comments have so far been in the minority, but they can't take away the excitement of me sitting here, my fingers alternating between the keys and my hot wet pussy, giving myself thrills as I try to thrill others. It's a win - win situation.

As I said at the start of this story there are three main categories: true, half true and complete fantasy. Of the three, I prefer to let my imagination free to roam over the forbidden, the impractical, or maybe even highly unlikely.

Take today for example; I got up at six fifteen, made my hubby a cup of coffee and kissed him with passion before he left for work. I feel sort of all soft and sexy in the mornings and some of our best lovemaking is done just as we wake up. Sunday mornings are always like that.

He has gone now and I have drunk my coffee. I climb back upstairs intending to get dressed. But as I pass the office door I turn and sit at the computer. At first I just scan the new email. I find some new feedback on my last story and I read it with growing excitement.

With only the fine silk kimono covering my body, I can sense those familiar feelings growing deep inside my tummy. I am conscious of the softness of the silk ever so gently caressing my nipples. My chest rises and falls as my breathing becomes deeper, causing the silk to move against my skin, arousing me more. Oh! How I wish he was still here. As my eyes roam the words on the screen my hands wander down the flat of my tummy, pulling the material closer to my boobs, making me want more than just a quick climax. I need a good seeing-to, but he's gone for the next ten hours at least, so it's all down to me and my fingers.

As I touch my pussy through the gossamer thin silk it intensifies my need. The robe opens at my touch, baring my smooth, naked, sex to my probing fingers. I pause a while then brush the silk very gently against the soft, smooth groove of my sex. I let one finger stroke the outer lips and the feeling is exquisite, soft, like a butterfly landing on my tender flesh, its wings gently fluttering against my very sensitive skin. I am aware that my arousal is gradually building.

I close my eyes but want to read more of the wonderful words some stranger has written about my story. He, or she, is making me feel so special, perhaps because I made them feel so special and I read on as my fingers explore my smooth body. My lips start opening like a flower as the moisture seeps out from my inner sex.

I touch my clitty, lubricated and still so sensitive from last night. He was fantastic driving me to climax after climax, but I need more, even if it is just me on me. I circle my clit making it throb with desire; I pull the knot undone in the belt that holds my gown together, letting it fall away from my body, revealing my naked breasts.

The curtains are open and I can see people outside but they can't see in. That just makes it all the more naughty to play with myself as they stand chatting outside. I'm so wet my finger slips inside; I can still feel where his big cock rubbed against my entrance as he rammed it into me.

My eyes refuse to stay open as the images of our so recent lovemaking flash before them. My bottom slips forward on the seat of the chair. My legs straighten out and part, giving my fingers more room to work. I imagine it's his cock probing my soft yielding flesh.

My spare hand is now fully employed fondling my titties, holding the nipple between my finger and thumb, rolling it in time with the increasing tempo of my finger on my clitty. This is so good, but so frustrating, I need him here now but I know it's not possible.

The first pulses of my impending orgasm ripple through my body as I speed up, making my need bigger and bigger. My fingers are now gripping each nipple just like he did last night, swapping from one to the other, keeping both of them tingling with lust.

I bite my lip as my climax gets closer till suddenly it hits me with an unexpected force. I am aware of wave upon wave of pure pleasure rippling through me. It was great, my body recoiling to the effect of the spasms of orgasmic bliss. I can hear myself saying "Oh yes! Oh yes!" like I was actually being made to climax by my husband.

My finger still gently rolls against my clitty as it throbs in the aftershock of my climax. Oh god, that was good! My nipples are too tender to hold so my other hand strokes my tummy, feeling the muscles contract every time a small ripple of that post-orgasmic surge passes through me.

Eventually I gather myself and open my eyes looking at the screen reading those words once again. Someone out there told me he liked my story so much he had to relieve himself, have a wank as he put it. Well so did I! It pleased me so much that my story had given him so much pleasure. Pity he didn't leave his email address as I would have thanked him for his kind words, perhaps even telling him what he had made me do, how his words had made me feel. I giggle just wondering how exciting it would be both to him and me. But alas, it is not meant to be.

I am jerked back to reality by the jangling of the telephone. I think about ignoring it as it had spoiled the moment for me. However, when I look the caller ID says it is my hubby. He usually rings me to tell me he has arrived safely at work.

He has detected the passion in my voice and asks what I have been up to. I tell him exactly what I have been doing. He listens as I describe every little detail of my past half an hour and I just wonder what he is doing now, listening to my impassioned words.

He asks "Do you want me to take the day off?" He would, if I had asked. But I know he had an important meeting so, instead, I ask him to come home as early as he can. I need him and blow kisses down the line. I am again alone with myself and my needs.

I wander into the bedroom letting my robe slip to the floor, thinking a shower might help, but it doesn't. I have never been unfaithful to my husband but if a presentable man arrived at this moment I would be. The warm water that I thought might help me just makes things worse. It trickles off my nipples and runs down my tummy between my legs, caressing my pussy. I shaved my pussy only yesterday, so it is still tender and very bare, making me even more conscious of myself. I soap myself with my favourite aromatic shower gel, circling my already aroused skin with the luxuriant lather, rinsing until the gently swirling water washes all the lather away.

Stepping from the shower I wrap a towelling bath robe around my body, intending to get dressed. But you now know how easily I am distracted. As I pass the office again I go in, sitting back in the chair touching the keyboard to wake the computer up.

Whilst the water was cascading over me I had thought about something that had happened while on holiday in France last year, in the unisex showers there. It had gelled into the makings of a nice sexy story.

So I open Word and start to pour my thoughts onto the screen, taking myself back to that sunny afternoon when we were camping and had got all hot and sweaty in the tent. Guess how. So I decided to take a shower.

Of course we both got in together. I started soaping his body with all the love and affection I could put into my hands. He began fondling my sensitive nipples - he has a thing about them. His cock rose quickly, sticking out like he hadn't had sex for weeks. Did he ever get enough?

The story soon comes to the part where we realised we were being watched from the cubicle next door through a hole in the wall neither of us had noticed. But the noise he was making drew our attention to him. Just his eye was visible through the small hole.

My body is reacting again to the memories of this very sexy incident. Again my fingers wander from the keyboard, finding my pussy. But it is not enough. What can I do?

Leaving the office I go into the bedroom opening his bedside drawer where all his toys are kept. I look at the big black dildo but pass it by. Then I look at several other things that he frequently uses to make our lovemaking more exciting, but none of them seem to fit my need.

To be honest these toys don't do much for me, using them on myself. It's just not the same somehow without his hands controlling the action. Right at the back I find a strap-on thing he bought some time ago, but we found it prevented him from touching my pussy when attached, so we only used it the once.

I suppose I should try to describe it to you, because it is not like any other toy he has bought for me. It is strapped with a big thick black leather belt around my waist and also round my upper thighs, with even more straps joining the belt at the back, holding a butterfly shaped device tight to my pussy.

It has two little protrusions sticking out on the inside. One is for my pussy the other to insert into my bottom. I must tell you I'm not a great fan of anal sex. It hurts too much and my pussy is much better equipped to please my man, but when the devil drives!

Finding some lubricant, I hold the thing to my body tightening the straps just the way he did when we tried it out. It feels strange but somehow satisfying to have both my holes filled with a foreign object. At least both of the little inserts are bigger than my fingers. I go back to the office with the thing strapped to me but not turned on, just letting my body get used to it being there. Walking makes it move sideways giving me quite a nice little thrill.

I sit back into the chair, bringing the screen back to life. My fingers dance across the keys, describing the events of that shower as we made love with me bent over and him ramming it into me from behind. My imagination can still hear how the water cascaded down over us, while a total stranger watched through that little hole.

With those feelings starting again, my fingers want to forsake the keyboard but there is nothing they can do. My pussy is completely covered with this sex toy; the only thing left for me is to switch it on.

I move the switch but nothing happens. I look at what I am doing and find that no matter where I put the switch it does nothing. I should have realised it was battery operated and it was much too light to have been loaded with batteries.

Slipping the controller into my robe pocket I go downstairs to find some batteries. What if we had none? All this would have been all for nothing and I so want to make myself come again.

Lady luck has smiled on me; I find the right batteries and run back upstairs before inserting them. The lid is screwed on so I have to find a small screwdriver to open it and I insert the new batteries. Then at last I move the switch and the sensations start. Oh! What relief.

I fiddle with the control until I find the gentlest program, just a soft vibration with a little pulse on the two tiny cocks. I want to get back to my story and let the thing just keep me in suspense, like my man does when he's in a teasing mood.

It is just right, keeping me very conscious of my pussy but still able to write. This is good; my mind is able to share itself with both my fingers and my pussy at the same time, despite some horrendous spelling mistakes. Thank goodness for 'spell check'.

The story gets hotter and so do I. I turn the thing up and let it either take me over the top or I might try to hold on long enough to finish this chapter. Sex wins again. I find another program that is stronger, the little cocks throbbing together and the whole thing vibrating like it is trying to get away from me.

I had forgotten just how strong this thing was. It drives me to a climax in seconds. Why hadn't I used this before? It's the answer to a maiden's prayer. I can't turn it off as quickly as I would like because it has made me come so hard, and it's not giving up any time soon.

At last I find the switch and turn it down. Not off, just down to the former level that I think I can bear while still being able to write. But it is not possible. I'm so near climaxing I just sit there and let it have its mechanical way with me.

Forgetting about my story for a while at least, I allow myself to bask in the waves of pleasure this thing is giving me. I turn it off and go back into my bedroom, stretching out full length on the bed, my robe falling open. Then I turn the thing back on full power.

How on earth can anyone make a plastic toy so damn sexy it is literally fucking me? The two little cocks, which are only about two or perhaps three inches long, rotate and pulse in my two holes. The whole thing vibrates, causing the most wonderful sensations in my clitty and in fact all over my crotch.

I climax so quickly but try not to switch it off, almost wishing my hands were tied preventing me from stopping it despite the massively intensive sensations it is giving me, almost too much. But can you have too much sex?

I fight the need to stop it for as long as possible, thinking it is like my hubby when he has come once and is taking me from one climax to another without even slowing down. A continuous orgasm - exactly like this thing is giving me.

At last I can take no more. I am exhausted. My fingers fumble with the switch trying to turn it off, finally managing to find the right place. Oh my god! The man who invented this deserves to be knighted. Never mind diamonds, it was he who really created a girl's best friend.

I lay there for some time just luxuriating in that so wonderful post orgasmic bliss, thinking perhaps I should take the device off. But it felt so nice strapped tight to my body. No I will keep it on; I might need it again before I have finished telling my story about that shower in France.

Wrapping my towelling robe around myself and slipping the controller into my pocket I return to the computer, still naked underneath. I take up the story again, explaining how we made love in front of this stranger while the shower poured down on us. I write how I could feel my hubby's cock swelling in preparation for his orgasm, and tell how it made me feel. His already almost too big cock was getting bigger and bigger as he drove hard into me with his final thrusts, making me cry out in pure lust, his hot come flooding my very full pussy.

How much I loved feeling him ejaculate deep into my body, his seed penetrating me, trying to impregnate me. If it weren't for those little pills I would be permanently pregnant, the amount of his come that fills my pussy every day.

Oh my goodness, I'm coming over all unnecessary again. This is what happens when I write about real sex experiences. Fantasies don't have quite the same effect. I am trying to concentrate on my story but my mind is on my pussy.

Reaching into my pocket I find the controller and switch it on the gentlest mode again hoping I can finish my story with another break for self satisfaction - or is that self gratification? My fingers once again are on the keys and the story unfolds to where we pull apart, holding each other like teenage lovers and not like the grown ups we are supposed to be. I noticed over his shoulder that the eye had been replaced by a cock. The unseen stranger had stuck his cock through the hole in the cubicle wall.

I make my other half aware of this new development. He whispers in my ear, suggesting that I suck it for him, but I am too scared of getting something nasty. I believe that unprotected sex is only for husbands and wives, however tempted I might be.

I am fascinated by this cock; probably because, unlike my hubby, the stranger's cock had no foreskin. It seemed so smooth and clean by comparison to my hubby's loose floppy hood. I wanted to touch it but wouldn't unless my man told me too.

He again whispered in my ear suggesting that if I didn't want to suck it why didn't I wank the stranger off? Did he read my mind? I think he might sometimes.

I tentatively wrapped my fingers round this strange cock. It felt so smooth, so different. The only other cock I have ever held in my hand is my hubby's so I am quite apprehensive.

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