I was having a really weird week. My wife had been at the beach for 10 days, and whenever she is gone my fantasy life goes crazy. The entire time she'd been gone I had been having these amazingly intricate fantasies about her. One night I dreamed that she and her friends had gone out and found themselves some men, gone back to the condo and had an orgy that lasted until sunrise. Another night, I saw her sucking a huge black cock while he videotaped her performance to show to me later. There was never the same fantasy twice, and they were SO vivid and erotic that I was giving my penis no latitude. I was cranking away on the poor guy with such abandon that my balls were sore from cumming so often, and I felt like I'd severely strained a muscle in my abdomen – but I couldn't help myself.
I woke up with one particular image almost every morning while she was away. That of her on the balcony of the condo wearing a white, sheer, floor-length robe and 4 inch heels. She was facing away from me, toward the neighboring balconies to the right. Her right foot was on the bottom rail of the railing and her robe was open. Not that it mattered, the sheer material left very little to the imagination anyway. As I stood there in my early-morning fantasy, her hips would move back and her right knee would pivot outward, accentuating her beautiful, round ass. Soon thereafter I would see the fingers of her right hand in silhouette between her legs, gently parting her obviously wet and swollen lips. As her middle finger glided gently into her pussy, and her head leaned back slightly- I could hear a soft moan escape her lips.
In always followed my raging hard-on toward her, hoping to give her a good morning shag on the balcony. And each morning I would notice as I got close enough that there was a man on the balcony one floor down who was watching her very intently.
He was lying back on a chaise that was turned to face our balcony and he was wearing the smallest pair of shorts I think I've ever seen on a man. His physique is best described as that of a gymnast. Not overly developed, but very chiseled, lean and muscular. He was very tan... possibly of Mediterranean descent, with dark hair and eyes. And his right hand was resting lightly on his hip, mere inches away from the largest erection I've ever seen outside of a movie, which swelled his already tight shorts to their limit and nearly exited the waistband.
The early morning sun was glistening off of Marie's chestnut brown hair and cutting through the fabric of her robe in a way that only further exhibited the exquisite form of her body. She is a small woman, just under five feet tall, but she carries all the attributes of an Amazon. Her large, full breasts and strong shoulders and legs are not only a tribute to genetics, but to the hours per week she spends practicing Pilates and working out in our home gym.
Each morning, I would decide to hover just behind her where my form or movement wouldn't distract her new friend, but close enough so that I could clearly see what they were both doing. And each morning, just as she added a second finger to the attention of her tight little pussy and just as he began to open his shorts to remove that monster cock... the fantasy would cut-off like a bad filmstrip from elementary school. So I would create a new ending for myself as I lay in bed, gently stroking my exhausted cock yet again. My favorite was the one where Marie suddenly got a hold of herself when she caught sight of me near the door to the balcony, and thinking that I was just coming out, greeted me with a good morning hug and kiss. Shortly after which she made a bee-line for the shower where I peeked in to see her frantically finger-fucking herself with 3 fingers in her pussy and one in her ass. Upon seeing this, I ran quickly down the single flight of stairs to our neighbor's condo and quietly invited him upstairs for a "cup of coffee".
The image of Marie dropping to her knees and engulfing his still-rigid cock with her mouth will stick with me until the day I die. Her hair was still dripping from the shower, her towel a useless heap on the floor. And her hungry murmurs of "..gimme that big fuckin' dick..." as she stroked it at eye level before opening wide and deep-throating the entire goddamn thing are some of the most sensual images I've ever conceived.
Once the vacation was over, Marie returned to me exactly as she had left. Perhaps a few shades darker thanks to her hours in the sun every day, but still the same old Marie. Or so I thought.
Her second night back, I was able to corral her on the back porch and give her a foot massage. After 14 years together, a good foot rub is the only weapon I have for hopefully erasing her stress and pressure enough for her to consider sex. Usually, she's just too damn concerned about something else. We had our best sex in years that night. I always especially enjoy it when she lets me talk during sex. That means she's horny and into it. When she tells me to "Shh" during sex, I know it's the dreaded "obligation sex". Yuck.
And so it goes. I had a wonderful evening enjoying the wonders of Marie's exquisite body, new tan lines and all. I figured that was it for happy surprises, but she had one in store for me that even I couldn't have dreamed up.
About a month after our foot-rub night, I came home from work at around 7:30 in the evening. Marie was nowhere to be found on the ground floor, so I assumed she was either in the basement doing laundry or upstairs in our bedroom. I knew that she would hear me bumping around in the kitchen and would come find me either way. So I grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out onto the back porch to sit down and smoke a cigarette.
I cracked the beer as I sat down and was just bringing the lighter to the tip of my smoke when I heard the distinct creaking of our bedroom door opening and closing. Our room is on the second floor of our Cape Cod style house. Which means the home was built with a "walk-up" attic that has since been converted into living space. It's great; our bedroom is nearly the size of the entire first floor. This gives us ample square footage for not only our bedroom furniture, but an office and sitting area as well. I figured that she must have been on the computer or something when I got home. I heard her footsteps as she traveled through the kitchen toward the door to the porch. I took the first long drag on my cigarette as I heard the doorknob turn and I looked toward it in anticipation of greeting my beautiful bride.
When the door opened, I was dumbstruck. Marie was wearing an outfit that I had only ever dreamed about, but don't remember ever telling her I would like to see. Very simply, she was wearing one of my tank-style undershirts and a pair of boy-shorts. On her feet were the same 4" heels I'd had her wearing in my beach fantasy. She had her long, dark hair done up in pig-tails. I had tried to get her to wear her hair like that before, but she always considered it to be too "schoolgirl". She must have seen herself in the mirror and realized that she looked "all woman". My God... I can never remember her looking as sexy as she did right then, and that's saying something. Marie could be wearing a potato sack, and I'd still get a boner.
She entered the porch very slowly, knowing that I was taking in the swell and rise of her breasts through the thin fabric of the "wife beater"... especially the way her proud nipples made their presence known by just begging to be tweaked, licked and tickled. She then pretended to have forgotten her wine glass, and slowly turned and strutted her gorgeous ass back into the kitchen, knowing full well that I was mesmerized. God, my friends... if you could only see this woman's ass, it very nearly defies description... but I will try as I continue with my story.
The way those little boy-shorts accentuated the full, strong curves of her ass had made my already swollen cock stiffen to its full size and rigidity. I had no idea what had brought on this sudden seductiveness in Marie, but I surely wasn't going to complain.
When she returned with her wine, she was still walking quite slowly. She was accentuating every step in the most sensual way. And when she finally reached a spot right in front of me, she just stopped and stood there, feet shoulder-width apart, breasts straining against the tank top, and her gorgeous, tight little pussy framed neatly by the tight fabric of her tiny shorts.
She took a sip of wine and looked pointedly at the bulge in my slacks.
"That can't be comfortable." She said with a grin.
"Yeah... it's not." I managed, after at first finding no air for my voice.
"Hang on a sec." She said, again turning and torturing me with the sight of her ass sashaying back into the kitchen. She returned with a pair of surgical scrub pants that I like to wear for sleeping.
Why were they conveniently in the kitchen, rather than in my dresser? No matter... I just wanted to get out of the binding Dockers and boxer briefs that were stifling my erection.
I stood to remove my trousers, but Marie quickly moved in and pushed my hands away from the top button.
"Let me." She said - that sly grin returning.
So I dropped my hands and allowed her to unfasten my pants and for them to fall to my ankles. She didn't have any interest in the slacks, anyway. Her gaze was intently focused on the rock-hard cock trying to force its way out of my underwear. She dropped to her knees (uncannily reenacting my morning fantasy) so she was at eye-level with my cock before using both hands to pull the waistband of my underwear out and down so that they wouldn't get caught on the throbbing member inside.
