‘Sometime after dinner, when it was dark, when you took my hand and your friend took the other, my orgasm began. When you kissed me, said you loved me and that I was beautiful, I felt the first warm hits of my orgasm. I shook like a leaf when I felt another man behind me. How many times had the other man visited me in my fantasies? When I felt his kisses at the back of my neck I shook. You asked but and I said, no, don’t stop. Your hand moved between my legs.
He said how lucky you were, how lucky to have a woman like me. He envied you. He made me feel beautiful and I wanted him to envy you. When he reached from behind, between us, squeezing my nipples, I couldn’t breathe. Another man pressed against me from behind. Do you remember how I took fistfuls of your hair? I kissed you. I knew I would come. I didn’t know on whose cock or how another man’s cock would feel (my womb is shaped like yours after so long) but I let you decide.
I let the men decide.
You turned me, lowered my arms, and showed him my breasts. Is there a more powerful way to offer a woman? I lowered my eyes. You pulled my panties down but left my skirt. I stepped out, left foot then right. Then you lifted the front of my skirt and showed him my pussy. You let him see how my eyes fluttered, how my back arched and my legs began to open as you displayed your wife to another man.
He came to me. He suckled at my breasts. He kissed my chin as you kissed my spine. I felt more naked than I ever had – face, shoulders, neck and eyes kissed and tongued. I closed my eyes. The warmth and wetness of another man’s lips were on my womb. ‘So tight,’ he murmured. ‘So flat.’ You bit my shoulder, pressed your finger into my ass and I rose to my toes. He stood. He slipped the head of his cock back and forth between my legs. I grunted. The head of another man pushed and begin to enter me. I leaned my head back against your shoulder. He withdrew. He teased.
You pushed me to my knees. You held my head for him, let him fill my mouth and I sucked. I submitted. When you pulled me to my feet, I was ready. You turned me. You held my face, forbidding me to look away as he entered me from behind. I rose to my toes. I struggled to take him inside, bigger than you and longer. I groaned. He rose upward, inside me, until my eyes rolled. I couldn’t look at you any longer. Another man was the thickness between my thighs. Another man was fullness in my belly.
But you wanted to see what another man’s cock did to me, how I opened my legs, how I bent over for the length of him. You unzipped. You pulled my head back by the hair. ‘Look at me,’ you said, ‘when you’re fucked by another man.’ ‘Suck me,’ you said as you filled my mouth, ‘when another man fucks you from behind.’
Your cock was meant to remind me. To you, I was a possession. To you, filling my mouth with your cock, instructing me to look in your eyes, was a way to remind me that I still belonged to you. Your fantasy was of the proud man who takes pleasure in revealing and sharing the woman who belongs to him. She affirms his power. She affirms his masculinity. Most of all, she affirms his own desirability. He is master of the woman who brings him infinite pleasure. For a women to so completely submit must be a wonderful fantasy. But for me, the experience was different. I was naked. I was a woman.
One day a girl begins to understand what must happen inside her. She must open her legs. The creative spark must be poured inside her. In exchange will come a mysterious pleasure. She fears it, yet desires the promised pleasure of surrender. Her every curve flows inwardly to the place between her legs. Some days an accidental touch, anywhere — her wrist, her foot, someone brushing her breast – will be like a marble that plummets into the contours of her desire. To be a woman means to feel life’s urgency. Someday she will open her legs.
To me, all was darkness. To me, you were no longer my lover. My lover was the dark itself, the room, the house, city and the world. I was naked. I yielded. The woman imagines, someday, finally yielding and that her dark lover will answer. I was that woman. I never felt more desired or beautiful. Your voices filled my ears. Your scents enveloped me. A man’s thumb opened and entered my ass. A man’s cock filled my mouth. A man’s cock moved in and out of my womb. The masculine possessed me in every opening. I shook. I opened my legs. I hoped you would forgive me when I closed my eyes but I no longer saw you. The pleasure of my submission overcame me.
I tasted you before you came.
Then you and the other man came together. You cannot imagine what that is like for a woman to feel your pleasure, like praise, burst in her mouth and womb together. I swallowed and arched for what poured into me from behind. I felt as though the world itself poured its pleasure into me. I tasted masculinity. My belly and womb were warm and syrupy with maleness. I was filled. How could I help it? I wanted to fall asleep between you both. And I did.
- This story is almost the polar opposite of Through my Eyes. Hard to write. Not sure if it’s good.
☼ William Crimson October 9 2011