Daydreams & Distractions ☼ 22%

December 11, 2010 8 Comments by willcrimson Consensual

22%
A Daydream & Distraction by RedBud

• All of the woman in my stories come with their men – but that’s fantasy. That’s erotica. Erotica is lies, outright lies and, at best, hot as hell.

She followed her husband, holding his hand, letting him lead her into the dark of their backyard and the field a little further on.

At first there was only the warmth of grassblades and dew between her toes.

She tried to relax.

She tried to think about her husband. How he loved her. How much he would enjoy their tryst. “Remember how we used to?” he asked. She nodded. “Remember how we just couldn’t stop ourselves?” She nodded again. “Let’s make love outside, tonight,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

She didn’t answer.

“Let’s be crazy,” he added. “Just wear a skirt, nothing under it.”
“What’s wrong with bed?”
“There’s nothing wrong with bed.” He lips tightened. She knew him.
“I want to come,” she said.
“You’ll come.”
“I won’t,” she shot back, old words and old hurts. “I’m not like the women in those stories. Every one of them… and the videos. You think I should be like them. They’re acting. Women aren’t like that. You need an affair. You need a prostitute, a woman who can act. I’m not like them. I never will be..”

Her husband was leaning in the doorway. She was in the hallway.

He didn’t bristle, nod or leave her alone. He didn’t shrug. She could almost hear him thinking — he never thought he would beg for a mercy fuck from his wife. But he didn’t speak. He stepped forward and kissed her and kissed her again.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, pulling him, pressing herself against him, hopeful. “We won’t have to hurry. We can take our time.”

His hands cupped her ass. “I want you. Outside. From behind. Looking at the stars with me.”

She wanted to bite him. She wanted to cry. She wanted to ask him what was in it for her. But she loved him. She would do it. She wouldn’t enjoy it. She would do it because she didn’t want him to be tired of her. She didn’t want him to sleep with another women. She didn’t want to hate herself, even if it meant resenting him.

But she hated herself.

She wanted to be the woman he wanted and imagined she was; and she wanted to be the woman she respected.

“OK,” she whispered.
She didn’t let him see her eyes or that she bit her lip as she said it.

He took her hand. “Take off your panties.”
She smiled. It was a forced smile but he didn’t know it, or if he did, he said nothing. Sometimes they knew each other too well.

And now she could feel the spines of the tall grasses in the field. She was wearing the loose skirt that flowed to her calves. It was already growing heavy with dew. Seed and chaff clung to her skirt .She balled it upward with her free hand.

She did this for her husband. But even so, she felt the blush of an old, almost forgotten, nervousness in her belly. She felt a nervous lightness in her breath and throat. Her husband’s dark form, ahead of her, suddenly seemed large and powerful. She could just make out his broad shoulders under the starlight. His hand felt rough, smooth, large and tender all at the same time. How far would they walk? When would he tell her stop? To turn around? To get on her hands and knees?

She wanted to cry. She wanted to be his fantasy. She wanted to enjoy it.

He stopped. He turned. “Here,” he said.

She stepped forward, reached up, a hand behind his neck, the other around his waist. She drew him close. This is how she liked to make love. This is how she liked to come. She wanted to feel him pressed against her, his warmth and presence. He kissed her and she heard him laugh — a deep rumble. Turn around.

She turned.

He moved behind her. He pressed his pelvis against her ass. He was hard. She pressed back as his hands slipped under her shirt, up the V of her ribcage and to her breasts. She closed her eyes and leaned back her head. She wouldn’t think about being seen. She wouldn’t think about anything but her husband. She would act.

He was nibbling beneath ear, and kissing. He sucked at her earlobe. She groaned.

He was pinching her nipples and stretching them.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he rumbled moving one hand to her shoulder, another to her hip. He pushed her over and down.
She felt feminine.
And yes, it turned her on. That’s what she would think about. This was the position a woman takes.
He lifted her skirt as she lowered herself to her knees, then to her hands. “Don’t look back,” he said. “Look straight ahead. Look at the stars .”

She heard him unzip.

But there was something else he was doing. She wanted to look but she didn’t. A minute passed. She widened her knees, enjoying the feeling of the nakedness she offered the man behind her – her husband. She gasped. He pushed forward her shirt. Her breasts hung down. The dark, invisible feathers of the tall grass brushed damply at her nipples and stomach.

Her breathing quickened as she felt his hands at her waist.

“Wider and arch,” she heard him say. Yes, something in her liked being spoken to like that. She was his wife. She obeyed.

Then she exhaled as her belly was opened and filled from behind. He filled her little by little, letting her feel the full length of him, the weight of him inside her. She groaned. “Yes,” she heard him say. The voice she loved hear, like that, and only hers. “Yes. That’s it. Take it all. Good girl.”

And then she felt something different. There was something pressing against her clit and spreading the lips of her sex. One hand moved for her hip and whatever pressed against her clit began to vibrate. She moaned – a deep, toe curling, fingers tightly in the grass, moan.

“That’s it,” he cooed. “Good girl.”

“Oh my God!”

He pushed and she grunted with the length of him and groaned with the vibration. His cock vibrated. Her belly vibrated. Her tits tingled. She pushed back against him like she had never done before. “Yes,” she mouthed, but her voice was full of the cock in her belly. “Yes!”

He drew back. He thrust. She cried out.

“Let me hear you girl!” he growled behind her. “Let me hear you.”

He did. Every deep thrust vibrated in her womb and pressed against her clit. She arched. She didn’t like how deep he could thrust but tonight… tonight she liked it.

“Oh my God!”
“That’s it beauty!” he grunted as he thrust. “Go ahead.”
“I’m going to come!”
She spread her knees and arched. Yes, her posture surrendered the depths of her belly to his thrusts, but her posture also opened her, parted her, and exposed her clit. And yes, she felt like those other women, the women in the pornos, in the erotic stories and the videos. She felt like them. Dirty. Wanton. Craven. Like a man was fucking her from behind and she was going to come on his cock. “Whore!” she breathed.

“Yes.”

“No,” she was going to come. “Say it! Call me a whore!”

“Go ahead, whore. Come.”

And the way he said it, so sweetly and with such pride, was what made her come for him. There was no stopping it now. She gazed up at the brilliant, sparkling stars. Her mouth was open. Her long wail was punctuated by his thrusts.

She came.

Her abdomen clenched again and again. Her husband bellowed. He was coming too. They both felt something they had never felt before. There was a man’s cock inside her orgasm! Her pussy was clenching a cock. And him? He had never felt his wife’s orgasm as he released his juices to her belly.

The stars were beautiful.

Their bodies quieted. She was on her elbows now, ass up and presented. She could smell, grass, soil and sex.

How many times had she gone online? Secretly. Only 22% of women have vaginal orgasms. How jealous she had been! But not now. She pushed herself to her hands, still on her knees. Her husband was leaning with one hand just below the small of her back, just at the divide of her ass. His other hand gently felt her soft belly, feeling where his cock was still held inside her, bathed in both their juices.

She was dripping.
She loved the warm slickness of him flowing out of her belly.
“Do it again,” she said and stretched, hands apart. “Fuck me. Fuck me again.”
He began to move.
“No. Wait,” she said. “Kiss me.”
He leaned over her. They kissed and that was all the time she needed. “I love you,” she whispered.
His answer was a deep and masculine growl.

She understood.

:Will Crimson
December 11 2010

• Full Disclosure:I notice that some readers have clicked on the image, so I linked the image to the website which sells the product. I picked the image of the cock ring, above right, because I thought it looked cool and I liked the product description – especially that it’s quiet. If you have kids you will appreciate that. This is not an endorsement though. You can also find this cock ring at Amazon – a mix of reviews but mostly good. However, I do have an opinion. These toys work. If vaginal sex doesn’t work for you/or her, these work. If you’re a girl or a guy looking for a good cock ring, the above might be good but I haven’t tried it. My advice? Look for a cock ring that has a nubbin or tongue that will vibrate her/your clit. Here’s one at Amazon and another with a good review. The cordless variety can be a pain when it comes to replacing batteries. Corded cock rings last longer and the rate of vibration can be adjusted, but there’s the cord to deal with. If you’re brave, write back. Leave us a comment as to your experience.

Categories: Consensual, Erotica, Insemination, Married Sex, RedBud, Romance, Sex ToyTags: Erotic Daydream, Erotic Daydreams & Distractions, Erotic Distraction by willcrimson, Erotic Fantasy, Erotic Fiction, Erotic Role Play, Erotic Short Fiction, Erotic Story, Erotic Writer, Erotica, Erotica Sex Toys, Insemination, RedBud's Erotica, Sex Toy, William Crimson's Erotica