I was on my home from work, thinking about old friends I had recently reunited with through a popular on-line network. I was also pondering my future. My job was ending, and though I was happy to transition into another field, I wasn't sure that transition was going to come to fruition. I struggled with what I wanted to do and what my family wanted/expected from me. I wanted to write, to be an author of non-fiction, fiction and erotica. How could I tell my husband this? Would he support me? Who would make my house payment while I waited to be accepted and published?
My thoughts bounced back to my friend. He was adorable in high school and looked pretty much the same now from the pictures I was able to see on his site. I was on the chubby side and I was happy to see that he was still chubby, too. Chubby is a turn on for me and I was secretly happy to see he wasn't a buffed stud.
I thought of the way he used to kiss me -- soft little pecks on the cheeks, nose and lips. The way he sat next to me and held me tightly to him during our lunch period together. I was remembering way back to high school! I was approaching my 20th year out of that place, but my mind was pushing back toward the sanctity of that little school. Every time we saw each in the hallway, we touched. Just soft hand holds or brushes against the arm or a quick hug. I was remembering the intimate, non-sexual feeling as though I had just hugged him good-bye.
Feeling self-conscious, even though I was alone, I repositioned myself in my seat and tried to pay attention to my driving. I reached my hand down to adjust my seatbelt and rubbed against my left nipple. I was shocked to feel the hardness of it, not realizing how my body was physically reacting to my high school memories. As if in waves, I began to respond to thoughts of his current picture, the ideas that had been forming in the back of my mind since I reconnected with him.
I moved my hand over my nipples, feeling their hardness, feeling the heat ignite within me, the warmth between my legs, the desire to stop my car and masturbate. I rolled my windows down in the freezing weather and continued home, trying to force any sexual thoughts about anyone other than my husband to the back of my mind.
After my motherly duties were complete, I asked my husband if he wanted a blow job, hoping it would lead to more for me. He turned me down, again. My body continued to remind me of its need, the desire I had to fuck, to suck cock, to have my pussy licked, to have my nipples sucked, my ass grabbed, squeezed and fucked. I was shocked at my thoughts -- they were so harsh! I was usually into soft romance, not hard-core sex. Today was different. I could not get the thoughts of my friend out of my mind. I wondered if he would be a gentle lover or if he would consent to porn fucking?
Appalled at myself for thinking of someone other than my husband, and of the waves of heat that swept through me when I thought of how nice it would be to just be fucked, I decided to read a favorite book. I couldn't concentrate, so I drew a warm bubble bath and relaxed my weary body.
The too-hot water distracted my attention and I was able to settle down to read. I moved my feet up the edge of my garden tub and slid my torso down into the water to fully cover my large breasts. The water moved against my clitoris with a gentle wave and sent my body reeling. My legs spread gently of their own accord and more gentle waves lapped at me. I put my book down, closed my eyes and rested my head against the tub. There was no energy left in me to continue the fight. I touched my hardened nipples, circled them with my fingers, pinching and teasing one then the other. My right hand drifted into the water, feeling, exploring my most sensual areas.
I moved my left breast up to my lips and flicked my nipple several times while I stroked my clit with my right hand. The warm water lapped with each movement I made, kissing my asshole, tickling my lips, causing me to get even hotter. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was alone in the bathroom, a hand on my breast, a hand between my legs again. I was not going to use my fingers to masturbate tonight. I wanted to fuck. I climbed out of the tub, leaving the water in but drying myself off. I crept into my closet and pulled down the sex toy box. I rummaged through looking for the right vibrator to use as I wished more than anything I had a clit licker. "I'll have to get one of those soon," I thought to myself as I found my silver bullet and warming lubricant. I put a battery in it and proceeded to my bed.
After propping my pillows up high, I set the vibrator on low, put it in my mouth, and then rubbed it over my nipples and down my stomach to tickle the spot just above my clit. I added a little lubricant to my toy and turned up the speed before I brushed it along my clit causing a shock of electricity to jolt through me. I was really horny now. I could feel my juices dripping out of my cunt to my ass.
Closing my eyes, I imagined not one, but two people with me. I thought of my friend, the way he looked in his pictures now, the tanned skin, dark hair and eyes. I imagined him stripping in front of me, slowly, showing me all of his gorgeous chubby body. I dreamt of running my hands over his soft belly, licking the line of hair that ran from his belly button down. I couldn't imagine the size of his member -- was it big? Small? Did it matter at this point? No. I just wanted to feel his body next to mine, to feel him on me, in me, holding me, kissing me, fucking me.
