Thursday, September 30, 2010
Telephone sex is a poor adjunct to actually having physical sex but in the case where you are without actual physical contact with your lover it still can be pretty hot. A good imagination by both parties is a great starting place and having appropriate privacy and time to build a descriptive scenario as the primary storyteller can be very satisfying for me. But phone sex can be a wonderful learning tool where you share with your lover a story or fantasy where each of you contribute to the path the story generates.
You learn how your partner thinks and it can be a place of initial experimentation of sexual activities and ideas that you or they have not experienced but are willing to try or only want to be as pure fantasy. When a past lover lived a long way from me we would often discuss our coming encounter and create a play date from our telephone conversations from which we would gain the wonderful aspect of sexual anticipation and as the day drew nearer to to our mutual phone sex fantasy realization my and her arousal would be at a peak of need. Need to play it out but also need for each other.
Often the sexual tension build up would be so great that the moment we got to our hotel room we would simply fuck the tension away and then lie together and cuddle, talking about ourselves and how much we missed each other. Once we had connected THEN we would play out our phone fantasy.
I remember one time I was so aroused I waited in the parking lot of the hotel for her to arrive and had the wonderful satisfaction of opening the car door for her (very gentlemanly of me) and reaching down while kissing her passionately between her skirt and feeling her naked wetness against my hand knowing that she too wanted me as badly as I wanted her. She was a very good girl and never wore panties and always wore stockings for me so access was never a problem.
But walking through the hotel lobby with a raging hard on was!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
There is this female Realtor that comes into our store occasionally. She is always perfectly outfitted in her style of dress. Business skirts and blouses or a business dress matching perfectly. Perfect hair and make up. Perfect professional demeanor - an almost cold detachment to personal interaction but what is necessary to conduct business. She is about 50 with a 50 year old woman's body. It is not perfect but she is sexy to me. Her most obvious attribute (which she does play to her advantage) is her legs. Great legs.
Legs I want to spread open to explore and touch and saviour.
I had a fantasy about her last night. I was on a call to her house to fix her computer and her high level of professional control began to soften as we talked and I discovered that this hard headed business woman wanted to not to be in control all the time. She wanted permission to suppress that aspect of her personality sexually and she wished to do that with me. I told her to sit in her chair and asked if she had a scarf to which she replied with directions on where in her bedroom to find one. I followed her directions and firmly tied the scarf over her eyes as a blindfold and then sat opposite from her.
I let the silence grow until she spoke: "What is going on?" she asked.
"You tell me," I countered.
"I," she began hesitantly, "am aroused and unsure."
Bluntly I asked, "Are you wet?"
She nodded slowly and I directed her to place a hand slowly and deliberately between her thighs and to let her desire take its course. Her hand slid slowly between her legs and she moved her hem of her gray skirt and her legs open until her hand was resting on her mound.
"You want to touch yourself, don't you," I offered and she nodded agreement. "Then do so."
She began to slowly let her perfectly manicured hands move over her hose and panties and I caught her in-rush of breath as she shuddered.
"You want to really touch yourself, don't you Barbara," I offered and she nodded slowly towards my voice. I got up and selected some scissors from her desk and drew the sharp blade down her thigh and pressed the sharp point against her mound, nicking her pantyhose and then opening the nylon into a small hole.
"Tear it open for me," I said softly in her ear and both of her hands reached down and she ripped her stockings open with one motion. Her pantyhose laddered down to her knees and her fingers slipped under the lace of her gray panties. She moaned and opened her legs more and I helped her to hike them over the armrests.
"Is that what you wanted," she wondered.
I sat back and took in the sight of this controlled woman of business who needed to be given the opportunity to be a woman of pleasure. My silence and her lack of sight only served to arouse her more and she began to writhe as she petted herself.
"Talk to me," she asked. "Tell me what YOU want."
"No. Tell me what you want," I countered.
"A cock...your cock. In me...in my pussy..." she trailed off.
"And," I asked.
"In my ass. Yes. My ass."
I moved in with the scissors and gently arrested her masturbation and slipped the cold stainless steel blades between the gusset of her panties and snipped them open and let my tongue dip into her sweet juices.
"Oh my God," she moaned.