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Archive for November, 2015

MIXED DOUBLES

Monday, November 30th, 2015

At thirty-six, Sid appears ten years younger. His small wiry body is agile and firm. His brown eyes are clear and sparkling. His hair is dark and expensively groomed. Sid, an investment broker, spends two or three days a week on the golf course, where he conducts a substantial portion of his business. His petite wife, Emily, thirty-four, is a licensed interior designer. Sid says that he and Emily had their best sex ever when they reunited with their old college flames.

Emily and I give a lot of parties. My business pretty much requires it. People let me invest millions of dollars for them. Let’s face it, nobody likes to trust a stranger with that kind of money. So I’ve always thought it a good practice to make my clients think of me not just as a broker but as a friend, too. When we bought our house, we looked for a place that would be right for entertaining. The dining room seats thirty or forty people comfortably, and in warm weather, our parties usually spill over onto the patio. We’re on top of a hill, with no neighbors in the immediate vicinity, so we never have to worry about noise and we can have live bands whenever we choose to. On this particular night, there were about twenty couples, all laughing and drinking and dancing and having a good time. Emily and I were taking turns answering the door to welcome latecomers. It was my tum when the Baxters arrived. There was another couple with them.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Jim Baxter said, shaking my hand and moving off to one side. ”Bruce and Lois dropped in on us as we were getting ready to leave for your party. When we told them where we were going, they insisted on coming along. Bruce says that you all knew each other back in college.” “That’s right,” I answered, shaking hands with Bruce and kissing Lois on the cheek. “We haven’t seen each other in years. Thanks for bringing them, Jim.” I really was glad to see them. Actually, we were more than old college buddies. Although Bruce had majored in psychology while I was working toward my MBA, we both belonged to the same fraternity and saw quite a bit of each other. But there was more to it than that.

Bruce and my wife, Emily, had dated for almost two years and were practically engaged at one point. Emily told me that the engagement was the reason their relationship ended. Dating had been fine, but when they got serious about marriage, she realized that Bruce was not the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Lois and I, on the other hand, had never gotten serious about anything, although we had lived together for about nine months. Neither of us had ever really expected our relationship to last. It was never more than one of those college things that seemed right at the time. That had been good enough for us. Lois and I had broken up on good terms. Soon afterward, she started going out with Bruce. After college we sort of drifted apart. Then, a year or so later, I heard that Bruce and Lois got married. I had first met Emily when she was engaged to Bruce, but we didn’t really get to know each other until about four years ago. It was quite a coincidence. I called an agency to have my apartment redecorated, and Emily was the decorator they sent. We recognized each other right away and started talking about all the people we used to know. Well, there just wasn’t time in the workday for all the catching up we had to do, so I asked her to have dinner with me. We hit it off immediately, and I guess you could say we’ve been having dinner together ever since. We were married just a few months later.

After greeting Bruce and Lois, I led them through the crowd in search of Emily. She was surprlsed and glad to see them. We were so busy with our other guests during the course of the evening, though, that neither of us had much time to spend with our old friends. Later, as the crowd began to thin, Emily suggested that Bruce and Lois stay after everyone else was gone so that we could all get reacquainted. We sat on the patio together, sharing several bottles of wine and bringing one another up to date. They were living on the East Coast and had come to town for Bruce to attend a conference. He was a psychologist with a successful practice and had written several pop-psych books that placed him somewhat in demand as a speaker. His age was showing a bit, but Lois looked young and ravishing. While her husband cured the neuroses of society, she spent her time tanning, swimming, and exercising her trim body.

As I looked at her, I found myself remembering the old days when we would lie in bed together making love for hours at a time. I guess I was undressing her in my. head as the four of us chatted and got tipsy. When Emily suggested that we all soak in the Jacuzzi, it sounded like a great idea to me. Lois asked if she could borrow a bathing suit. “What for?” I said. “We’re all grown-ups, and none of us will be seeing anything we haven’t seen before. So why bother with suits?”

I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t all consumed as much wine as we did, but as it was, everybody found my suggestion appealing. Within minutes, we were all nude and climbing into the bubbling spa. Bruce stared openly at my wife, appraising her naked body without pretense. “Emily,” he said, sitting on the concrete bench in the spa. “You look terrific. You really haven’t changed a bit.” Emily smiled and sort of pranced in the churning water. “Except,” he added thoughtfully, “I think your tits might be sagging a little.” Emily looked challenged. “What?” she sputtered. “My tits don’t sag at all. They’re just as firm as they ever were.” Stepping up in front of where Bruce was sitting, she pushed her shoulders back to thrust her breasts forward. “Here,” she said. “Feel for yourself.”

Before I had a chance to react, Bruce boldly cupped my wife’s breasts in his hands, squeezing gently as if to measure their heft. I could see her pink nipples hardening. Without letting go, he said, “No, you’re right. These tits are every bit as firm as the last time I held them.” I didn’t exactly know why, but I felt my cock stirring. Still holding Emily’s boobs, Bruce said, “Most psychologists believe that there is no jealousy in true love.” Turning . suddenly to me, he asked, “Well, Sid. ls your love for Emily true? Or is it making you jealous to see me fondling her tits?” A worried look passed across Emily’s face, but she just stood there allowing him to handle her. “Not at all,” I answered. “In fact, I’m finding it rather exciting.” I looked at Emily and saw her smile with relief. “But do you practice what you preach?” I asked. “What if I felt Lois’s ass? Would that bother you?”

As I spoke, I moved in front of where Lois was standing and looked her in. the eye. Her expression gave me permission. Reaching around her, I took her buttocks in my hands and stroked them gently. My cock became rock hard instantly as I caressed my former girlfriend while her husband and my wife looked on.

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” Bruce answered. I could see that he also had a hard-on. “After all, you probably screwed her a thousand times before she started going out with me. What difference would it make if you did it again now?” At his words, Lois reached down and grabbed my cock. “I’d love it,” she said. “I’d love to fuck you again. For old times’ sake. That is, if it would be all right with Emily.” I knew my wife well enough to recognize the look of desire passing across her face. It was obvious that she was enjoying the touch of Bruce’s fingers, which had now moved to her nipples where they were tracing little circles. It was also obvious that she was intrigued by the idea of watching me and Lois get it on.

I realized that if I did it with Lois, I would, in effect, be giving my wife permission to do it with Bruce. But I did not find the thought at all distasteful. What Bruce said made a lot of sense to me. They did plenty of fucking when they were engaged. I always knew that, of course, and it never was a problem for me. In fact, occasionally I used to imagine the two of them together, and the image always turned me on. I like to think of myself as open-minded where sex is concerned. I don’t have a problem with jealousy, and as far as I know, neither does Emily. What we know about each other’s past relationships never interferes with Emily’s feelings for me or with my feelings for her. Why should it matter if she and her former lover had sex again now? Actually, the thought of watching Emily with Bruce while I did it with Lois was very exciting.

It must have had the same effect on Emily. Her husky voice could barely be heard over the sound of the Jacuzzi as she said, “Yes. I love the idea. Let’s have an orgy.” The moment the words left Emily’s lips, Lois began stroking my erection up and down. Having received Emily’s consent, I abandoned myself to sex with Bruce’s wife. Clutching the cheeks of her ass, I pulled her a8ainst me until the tip of my dick was grazing the patch of curly hair around her pussy.

“Yes,” she whispered, placing her lips against my ear and running her tongue over it. She moved her hips from side to side, rubbing her pubis against my erect penis and pressing her breasts tightly against my chest. I could feel her hard nipples boring into me like diamond-tipped drills. My fingers began searching between the round cheeks of her ass for the tight little crevasse that I knew nestled in the valley. When I found it, I nudged lightly at it. Lois always was sensitive back there and I always knew that I could whip her up to feverish passion by caressing her between the cheeks.

She was groaning with complete lack of inhibition, her eyes shut tight and her mouth wide open. Allowing the heated water to buoy her up, she wrapped her legs around mine and thrust her pelvis toward me, all the while chewing and nibbling at my ear. “Yes,” she moaned. “Put your cock in me. Fuck me. Just like you used to.” Her words sent chills through my pulsating body, increasing my excitement. I humped forward, aiming my throbbing cock for her opening. When I felt it encounter the lips o( her pussy, I hesitated for a moment, savoring the pleasure of anticipation. “Put it in me,” she commanded, her voice becoming louder. “Put your big cock in me while Emily and Bruce watch. I want them to see it. I want them to see you fucking me.”

I had to tighten all the muscles in my groin to keep from coming instantly. For a few moments, I had been lost, so absorbed in the ecstasy of sexual contact with Lois that I forgot where we were and who we were with. Her words brought me back to a reality that carried my arousal to a peak. Looking over Lois’s shoulder, I saw my wife in the embrace of her former fiance. They were kissing, their tongues probing deep in each other’s mouths. One of Bruce’s arms was around Emily’s waist, pulling her against him, while his other hand played with her breasts, gently pinching and rolling the nipples. Emily’s hands were between their bodies. Although I couldn’t see them, it was clear that she was holding and rubbing his cock beneath the bubbly water. Emily’s eyes were open, staring at Lois and me. Without making a sound, she moved her lips, mouthing at me the words, “Fuck her.” I was so excited I thought I’d have a heart attack. My throbbing dick found its mark and was beginning to force its way between the resilient lips of Lois’s pussy. She groaned,· exaggerating a bit for dramatic effect, acutely aware of Emily’s staring eyes upon us. “Yes,” Lois hissed as my cock slowly entered her. “Yes, you’re in me. Oooh, you’re inside me. Oooh, Bruce, watch us. He’s fucking me. Sid is fucking me.” “I know,” Bruce answered, his breathing labored. “I’m watching you. I see everything. Oh, yes, Sid, do it. I’m going to do it to Emily now. May I, Emily?” “Yes,” Emily responded, almost singing the word. “Yes, Bruce, put it in me.”

I was all the way inside Lois now, our bodies grinding together in the swirling water of the bubbling spa. With her legs wrapped around mine, I turned so that we could watch our spouses as we plunged in intercourse. I saw Bruce drive his hips forward and heard Emily groan. I couldn’t see their genitals, but I was sure that he had penetrated my wife the way I was penetrating Lois. The air was filled with sex. It mingled with the steamy vapors rising from the churning whirlpool to create the erotic atmosphere of a sultry swamp. The music of our moans and sobs was a symphony of desire. It was like an orgy at a public bath in ancient Rome.

I felt the membranes of Lois’s pussy cling lovingly to my thrusting staff, but my pleasure far exceeded what resulted from the gentle friction. There was something so thrilling that I can’t even describe in the sensation of fucking another man’s wife while he and my wife watched. Seeing the two of them going at it at the same time is what really drove me to the top. I knew exactly how it felt to be inside Emily’s pussy and I could imagine what Bruce was experiencing. My wife’s facial expressions told me exactly what she was doing with the muscles of her pelvis. The fascination of watching her do it to another man brought me to a new high. Sex with Emily is totally different from sex with Lois. When I’m inside Emily, her vaginal tunnel caresses my cock continually, trailing long, soft waves of pleasure over its entire length without stopping. Lois’s pussy seemed to grab at me, squeezing my dick in spurts, With little rest periods in between, each constricting throb more powerful than the last. Fucking Lois and watching Emily with Bruce, I was able to experience both lovemaking styles simultaneously. To magnify the excitement, I realized that all of us were sharing these thoughts and sensations. Emily and Lois were probably comparing my cock to Bruce’s, just as Bruce and I were comparing their vulvas.

I watched Emily’s body undulate as she impaled herself rhythmically on Bruce’s erection. Her legs were wrapped around his hips. I could see the muscles of his upper thighs straining as he struggled to support her weight while thrusting in and out of her. Emily’s eyes were open, her gaze alternating between Bruce and us. When I saw them begin to glaze over, I knew that her orgasm was approaching. She seemed to retreat into a private world of erotic ecstasy. I realized that each drive of Bruce’s plunging hard-on brought her closer to sexual climax. For the first time I felt a pang of jealousy at the thought that any man besides me could bring her that much pleasure. Then she started making sounds that told me her orgasm was beginning, and somehow my jealousy drowned in the erotic flood.

The sights and sounds and sensations were all uniting to bring me to sexual completion. Lois was panting and sobbing in my ear, thoroughly aroused at witnessing the release of Emily’s passion. It had been so long since she and I had made love that I didn’t know· how to read her signs. Heroically, I struggled to hold back my onslaught, to be sure that Lois was satisfied before I let go. But the surge was much too strong to be controlled. I couldn’t wait any longer.

Like a rocket smashing the sound barrier, my orgasm burst forth through my feeble resistance. For a moment I lost all awareness, conscious only of the streams of fluid that I was pumping deep into Lois’s hungry loins. I returned to my surroundings in time to realize that all four of us were coming together. Lois’s cries blended symphonically with Emily’s; my gasping breaths harmonized with the grunting intonations of Bruce’s masculine voice. The heated water of the spa seemed to melt us all down into a single seething organism instead of four individual beings.

Once again, I lost consciousness of reality. I drifted off on a plane of erotic fulfillment until, without quite knowing how I got there, I found myself sitting in the bubbling water with my wife on my lap. Looking across the churning pool, I saw Lois resting in her husband’s arms. We were all back where we belonged. . Later that night when Emily and I were alone, we talked about the events of the evening. Emily found the whole episode very exciting, but admitted that she too experienced some jealousy at times. We agreed that although it might have been the best sex we ever had, it was the kind of thing you do maybe once in a lifetime.

Since then we’ve continued to have a great life together. Sex is always beautiful for us, and neither of us ever wants to make love with anybody else. But every now and then, especially when we’re having sex in the Jacuzzi, we talk about the night we got together with our old partners and had our little orgy.

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    MORE THAN TWO

    Monday, November 30th, 2015

    Although very few have actually experienced it, many people are stimulated by the thought of group sex. Knowing this, authors of pornographic novels and producers of X-rated films routinely fill their work with scenes involving more than two people. Obviously, the idea is not new. Similar depictions appeared on Greek vases in the fifth century B.c. and on the walls of ancient Indian temples. Group sex generally comes in two varieties. In one form, two or more couples make love in the same room, each stimulated by the presence of the other. They may exchange mates, but each person has only one partner at a time. In the other form, one or more members of the group has several partners simultaneously.

    According to some sources, orgies and “swing parties” were commonplace during the 1970s in every suburban community in the United States. Psychologists and sociologists doubt that this was so. Whatever the actual frequency of group sex in our society, its popular presence in erotic art and entertainment proves that it is on· the minds of many people. In gathering material for Whispered Secrets,* our book about sexual fantasy, we found group-sex fantasies to be among the most common described by the people we interviewed. However, we also found that as a real-life practice, it is rather. unusual. While it may be pleasant to imagine the simultaneous touch of many hands or the taste of many bodies, group sex is not for everyone. Insecurity is often generated by the troubling question: “ls my partner enjoying that other person’s touch more than mine?” The jealousy that results from observing a lover in the arms of another can seriously jeopardize a relationship.

    The people whose stories are told in this blog claim that their experiments caused no damage and, in fact, led to the best sex they ever had. If this is so, they belong to a relatively small and rare breed of human. Even for them, however, these activities are what one described as “the kind of thing you do maybe once in a lifetime.”

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      EXQUISITE DESSERT

      Monday, November 30th, 2015

      Carl, thirty-three, is tall and brawny, carrying 210 pounds on his six-foot frame. His short hair is light brown like his eyes. When he moves, his muscles ripple impressively, muscles developed not from exercising in a gym, but from hard physical labor. Carl started working in construction when he was seventeen. For the past six years, he has owned his own contracting company. His twenty six-year-old wife, Lucy, works as a sales representative for a women’s clothing line. Carl says he and Lucy have their best sex when one plans an erotic surprise for the other .

      Sex is always good for Lucy and me. I don’t think it’s ever going to get old with us. Probably one of the reasons for it is this little game. we play. We love to surprise each other with unusual sex. Lucy started it all about six years ago. It was just after I got into my own business. We were doing some subcontracting on a tall building that was being constructed in the center of town. One afternoon, just before quitting time, Johnnie, one of my workers, told me that there was a problem on the top floor. He asked me to go up and have a look with him. Now remember, this wasn’t a building yet; just the skeleton of a structure. You know, steel girders and poured concrete floors. Not much more. I followed Johnnie into the cage-the construction elevator. I punched the button for the thirty-seventh floor. Then, just as the cage started going up, Johnnie jumped off, hollering that .he’d see me later. I couldn’t imagine what the hell was going on, but with that elevator, once you punch in the floor number you can’t stop it. So up, up, and away I went. I figured the son of a bitch was playing a joke on me and sending me for a joy ride. I was going to ride down again as soon as the cage got to the top floor so I could have a little talk with Johnnie. But when it stopped, there was a surprise waiting for me. My wife was standing barefoot on the concrete apron by the elevator gate. She was wearing a smile and nothing else.

      Man, did that turn me on. I mean, here I was right in the middle of the city on the top floor of a completely open structure, with my wife stark naked and her giant tits flapping in the breeze. And let me tell you Lucy’s got some big ones. She’s really a hot-looking woman, about five-seven with a tiny waist and wide hips. Her hair is real dark, almost black, and she’s got a jungle of it down below, if you know what I mean. Everything was showing. I just stood there gawking, with my cock getting hard. “Hi, big boy,” she said, putting on an exaggerated seductive voice. “Glad you could come up and see me.” She opened the elevator gate and grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the cage. Without another word, she unzipped my fly and pulled out my dick, which by now was as hard as an iron bar.

      Pretty as you please, she dropped to her knees on the rough concrete and started sucking me off. When I felt her hot mouth closing around me, all I could do was concentrate on the sensations. Her tongue was swabbing my tool while the skyscraper wind whistled in the girders around us. It was so sudden and unexpected that I came right away. Lucy kept on sucking me while I pumped and pumped and pumped. My eyes were shut tight, and for an instant I forgot where I was. Just as I finished coming, Lucy started pushing me backward with her hands. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back in the cage. She slammed shut the gate, punched the button for the ground floor, and sent me on my way again. “Nothing like going down,” she called as the cage descended. When I got to the bottom, Johnnie was laughing. She had set up the whole thing with him in advance. “Hey, boss man,” Johnnie teased. “Better zip up your fly.”

      After that, Lucy and I started to compete with each other to see who could come up with the best erotic surprise. The great thing about that kind of contest is we both are winners. We always try to outdo each other at our little sex game, but I’ve got to take credit for the best one of all. It was when I thought up the idea of surprising her with dessert. It was just a couple of months ago, in fact. In the morning, we agreed to meet after work for a fancy dinner in one of our favorite restaurants. I had been hatching my scheme for a week or two. As soon as Lucy left to go to her job, I got everything ready.

      That night, we had a couple of drinks and a great dinner. At the end of the meal, the waiter offered to bring coffee and a dessert tray. Lucy was about to order when I interrupted. “I don’t think so,” I said, winking at my wife. “Tonight we’re having dessert at home.” I could tell fro in Lucy’s expression that she got my meaning. She knew a surprise was coming. We practically fell over each other in haste as I paid the bill. Heading home, I don’t know which of us was more eager for the rest of the night to unfold. As soon as we got into the house, I told Lucy to go into the bedroom, get completely undressed, and wait for me on the bed. I went to the kitchen to get the tray that I had prepared earlier and carried it into the bedroom.

      Lucy had followed my instructions and was lying nude on her back on the shower curtain that I had used to cover the bed. Her legs were spread slightly to give me a view of her pussy. She knows how hot that gets me. “What’s with the plastic sheet?” she asked. Then she sat up to look curiously at the tablecloth I had thrown over the tray. “And what are you hiding under that?” ”Never mind,” I answered. ”Just close your eyes and leave everything to me.” I could tell by the way her nipples got hard that she was excited. She lay back down, closing her eyes submissively. · Taking a jar of honey from the tray, I went to the foot of the bed. I stroked her feet with my hands and then poured some honey onto them. “What are you doing?” she asked, as the thick liquid trickled over and between her toes.

      I answered without words, lifting her foot to my mouth and closing my lips around her big toe. She sighed softly when I began sucking one toe at a time, dipping my tongue into the spaces between them to lap up every drop of honey. I did the same to her other foot, her body writhing in response to the explorations of my mouth. After I licked all the honey from her feet, I held the jar over her and drizzled long streaks of it up the entire length of her legs, watching it ooze over the insides of her thighs and drip onto the plastic sheet that covered the bed. I also poured a gob of the sticky stuff into the crater of her navel. I could see by the way her pelvis began thrusting that contact with the thick liquid was arousing her. I was in no hurry.

      Slowly, with light flicks of my tongue, I began licking the honey off her skin. I started at her right ankle and trailed my way up a millimeter at a time, my mouth coming closer and closer to her pussy. The fragrance of her sexual excitement mingled with the sweet scent of honey, creating the most exotic perfume I ever inhaled. I brought my tongue to the edge of her opening and then teased her by changing direction and licking downward, concentrating on the inside of her thigh. She began to moan as I repeated the performance on her other leg, again bringing my mouth to the brink of her sex before heading down toward her ankle. Her hairy mound was rotating in small circles as her excitement built. I placed my hand on the triangle of fur and pressed gently, feeling the moisture of desire oozing between her sex lips. Bending over her, I licked around the outside of her navel, enjoying the sweet flavor of the honey mixed with the salty taste of her excited perspiration. I dipped the tip of my tongue into the golden pool that the nectar formed in the pit of her belly button. She lifted her ass off the mattress, trying to press herself harder against my face, but I pulled back slightly to keep the contact light and teasing.

      Lucy has a sensitive navel and always likes it when I lick her there in our foreplay. The sticky substance must have increased her sensitivity, because as I lapped at it with hungry strokes of my tongue, her moans got louder. I kept it up until I had swallowed every drop. By now she was beside herself, her body moving violently on the bed. Dipping two of my fingers into the honey jar, I rubbed it softly onto the open lips of her pussy. She practically howled at the touch. I returned to the jar for more, and then did it again, until every bit of pink membrane was shining with the syrupy coating. Pouring generously from the jar, I drenched her clit, watching it swim in the amber fluid.

      Lucy convulsed with excitement, her hips thrashing from side to side. Her legs spread apart even farther, her sexual opening begging for more attention. The honey on her pussy seemed to be bubbling with her heat. I began rubbing it, inserting my fingers between the lips to carry some of the sweetness inside. With the tips of my index and middle fingers, I traced a circle around the throbbing button of her clit, bringing her almost to the edge of climax. When I stopped, she groaned a plea for satisfaction.

      In response, I licked lightly at her sex lips. The honey sweetened the spicy female flavor, exciting me almost as much as it was exciting her. I delved deep with the blade of my tongue, plunging it inside to extract the combination of sweet syrup and lovejuice. The sounds she made inspired me to perform intricate maneuvers with my lips and mouth. I turned her pussy inside out to suck hungrily at it. I lapped around its edges, bringing soft cries of desire from her throat. Finally, I closed my mouth around her clit. She practically hit the ceiling. I sucked and I licked, lapping at the sticky syrup that coated her most sensitive spot. The taste was changing, sweetness giving way to the tart erotic savor ofher.preorgasmic secretions. I sucked harder, pressing my mouth tight against her mound to form with my lips a protective circle around her clit. I made a buzzing sound in the back of my throat, which set my whole mouth vibrating to increase her pleasure.

      With a cry, she reached a climax. Her juices poured from her opening, coating the honeyed walls of her vagina and wetting the insides of her thighs. I licked her until she placed her hands on my head and pushed me away. She lay there panting, trying to calm herself after her explosive orgasm. Before she could completely recuperate, I brought on the second course. Her eyes were open now. She seemed to watch helplessly as I poured warm fudge sauce over and around her breasts. The gooey syrup coated the crinkled red nubbins of her nipples and circled the pebbly disks surrounding them. When the smooth skin of her big round tits was crisscrossed with dark chocolate lines, I sprinkled them with flakes of white candy.

      Shaking a can of whipped cream, I sprayed a snowy cap onto each of her mountains. I decorated each swelling breast with banana slices and a bright red cherry from a bowl on the tray. I took a plump strawberry and used it to dab some of the fudge sauce from her breast. After dipping it into the whipped cream, I offered it to her, holding the sweetened berry to her lips. After she ate it, I helped myself to one. First I stroked her softly with it, coating the red fruit with syrup. Then I trailed the chocolate-covered strawberry around both nipples, picking up some of the whipped cream and candy flakes. Scooping a banana slice onto the erotic confection, I bit into it, exposing the fleshy inside of the strawberry. I rubbed its juicy surface against her nipple, burrowing through the dollop of whipped cream toward its peak before popping the rest of the berry into my mouth. Lucy was becoming aroused again by our erotic feast. When I started licking the coatings directly from her skin, she moaned. I used my tongue like a paintbrush, dabbing in little strokes that stimulated her to make rhythmic movements with her hips and pelvis. I licked steadily, starting at the base of one breast and trailing my tongue all around it before sliding its tip across the valley of her cleavage to begin on the other. I took my time, coming nearer and nearer to her nipples without actually making contact with them.

      When I finally had both tits licked clean, I took one nipple in my mouth and sucked on it. By now I knew she was ready to be fucked. It would culminate our erotic dessert. Holding a can of whipped cream in each hand, I garnished the entire front of her body with the fluffy white topping. She made little sobbing sounds as the airy substance swirled and fl.owed over her to tickle and titillate her skin. The warmth of her body made the cream velvety and light,. and sent it seeking its way into her every nook and cranny. When the cream had formed a two-inch cushion that covered her completely, I sprayed the last of it onto my pulsating erection. Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement when she realized what was about to happen.

      I knelt on the edge of the bed and lowered my body onto hers. The whipped cream compressed between us, our combined body heat melting it a little, making us slick with it. I moved my torso from side to side, slipping and sliding against her. The smoothness of the cream softened the roughness of my skin. I stroked her tits with my chest, feeling my own nipples harden as they made contact with hers. My cock was moving by itself, seeking the heat of her welcoming pussy. Her hips lifted, raising her opening high to make the entry easier. When the throbbing tip found her slit, it fell inside, lubricated by the thick coating of whipped cream. At the moment of penetration we both gasped. Neither one of us was prepared for the sudden rush of ecstasy that swept over us. I plunged forward, burying the entire length of my hard-on within her. We began thrusting together in rhythm. Each in-stroke brought me right to the center of her sex, making my scrotum swing forward to slap gently against her cream-coated ass. When I drew back, the cream glued us together for a moment, connecting our writhing bodies. We continued to slide against each other as we fucked. Lucy wrapped her legs around my waist to keep me from slipping away and to pull me tight against her, my cock driving once more to her center.

      “Oh, Carl,” she whimpered. “You fuck me so good. Oh, Carl. I’m going to come. Again.” I felt it too, that wonderful friction beginning in my balls and forcing its way up through my cock. With each plundering thrust, the internal tingling increased. It was becoming almost unbearable. We drove harder and deeper, each stroke bringing us closer to a shared orgasm. It hit like a blast of dynamite. I pumped my come into her while she poured her· juices over my cock. The spasms of pleasure had me shuddering and gyrating, oblivious to the world around me. I heard nothing but Lucy’s guttural cries as she rose to sexual satisfaction. We clawed at each other, frantic to extinguish the fires consuming us. We came forever, riding to the heights before drifting slowly back down to earth. When it was over, we were totally exhausted and totally content.

      Shit, man. That was something.

      I hope I didn’t shock you with my story or the language I used. You asked me about the best sex I ever had. So I told it like it was.

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        A GIFT OF SEX

        Monday, November 30th, 2015

        Leslie is a petite woman in her late thirties. Her dirty blonde hair is soft and long. Her blue eyes sparkle in a way that suggests a childlike love of good times and fun. Leslie holds a middle-management position in a nationwide corporation. Her husband, Rob, is a civil engineer. Leslie says that the best sex they ever had was the gift that she gave Rob on his thirty-fifth birthday.

        Rob and I had been married for ten years, and we always had a pretty good sex life. Actually, in the beginning it was fantastic. We made love almost every night and sometimes in the middle of the day on weekends. Then, after a few years, we both got sort of involved in our work until we found we spent more time on it than on anything else in our lives. When we were home, we were both usually pretty tired. And being the parents of two young daughters took a lot out of us. It got to the point where we were having sex only once or twice a week. Well, most of the time, I guess it was more like once a week than twice. We both enjoyed it, but the truth is that sex didn’t seem all that important to either of us anymore. We probably would have gone on that way forever if it hadn’t been for a TV talk show that I saw one afternoon when I stayed home with the flu. The subject was how to keep the spark alive in marriage. One of the women on the show said that she had taken belly-dancing lessons so that she could arouse her husband with sexy entertainment. I was only half interested and wasn’t listening very closely until I heard another woman say that she and her husband liked to surprise each other with gifts of sex. That really captured my attention! I was intrigued, wondering exactly how they did that. You know how television is, though. They talk . about sex quite openly, but then never really give you any details.

        I thought about it for days afterward and became extremely aroused by the idea. Roh’s birthday was only a few weeks away, and I had been planning to buy him something for his desk. But how exciting it would be if I could surprise him with a gift of sex. I racked my brain trying to figure out what to do. One day I was returning to my office from lunch when I noticed a porno shop. You know, one of those places that sell X-rated videos and products they call “marital aids.” Even though I had passed that little store hundreds of times, I had never given it a thought before. Now, although I didn’t quite know what I had in mind, it occurred to me that I might find something in a shop like that to help me with Rob’s birthday surprise. For a moment, I asked myself, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” Then, before I had time to answer my own question, I brazenly walked inside.

        It was amazing. The place was like an erotic supermarket. There were quite a few people browsing, and I was kind of surprised to see that they all looked respectable. Each corner of the store was filled with different kinds of erotic objects. I didn’t know where to look first. I was drawn to a rack of lingerie. Certainly, a gift of sex would have to begin with a sexy costume. Ordinarily, I am a conservative dresser, even down to my underwear, which is expensive but usually sensible. The seductive undergarments on display were far from conservative, but I was fascinated by them. I imagined wearing them for Rob and was surprised to find that the thought of parading before him in what I considered to be the attire of a hooker excited me tremendously.

        There were so many sexy outfits to choose from that I was somewhat intimidated. But I soon got over that and started looking through them just as though I were in a department store. I’m real petite and don’t usually have much to choose · from. But in this store, there were dozens of styles in my size. I decided to pick something red to set off my dark brown hair. To my own amazement, I selected a sheer red peek-a-boo bra with nipple cutouts and matching panties with an open crotch. The seductive openings were trimmed in lace, and I flushed as I imagined it framing the parts that my underwear usually covers. Deep down I didn’t believe that I would really buy or wear garments like that. Other women might, but not me. The whole idea was too kinky. Yet for some reason, I set them aside and continued looking through the lingerie until I found a lacy black garter belt and black fish-net stockings.

        I placed the red and black wisps of fabric next to each other and tried to picture how they would look on me. Suddenly, I realized that I could go through with it, that it wasn’t all that kinky for me to dress in a way that was designed to turn on my husband. The whole idea of giving Rob a surprise gift of sex began to seem very real to me. I resolved to buy the lingerie and anything else I could find that would help turn his birthday into an erotic event. When I left the porno shop, I was carrying a large bag containing my purchases. In addition to the undergarments, I had bought an X-rated videotape, a tube of strawberry flavored lipstick, and products called Sex Oil, Harem Incense, and Seduction Candles. Later that day, I picked up an expensive bottle of red wine and two cans of smoked oysters, because I had heard that the combination could increase sexual stamina. I hadn’t been so excited about anything in a long time.

        After that, planning Rob’s erotic surprise occupied my thoughts day and night. My excitement increased until his birthday finally arrived. I arranged to send the kids to their grandma’s for the night and left work early so that I would have time to get everything together. I wanted to tum our living room into a passion palace. Since we always made love in the bedroom, I thought the change would add to the surprise. I started a fire in the fireplace and set Seduction Candles on every flat surface. The flickering light gave the room a sexy ambiance, and the scent of burning incense added to the mood. I glanced about, enjoying the warm and seductive atmosphere that I had created. I felt stimulated just thinking about the night I had planned. I poured two glasses of wine and set them on the cocktail table next to a plate of smoked oysters.

        We have a big-screen TV and a videocassette recorder in our living room. I popped the X-rated tape into the VCR and let it run past the credits. The film opened with a man and woman sitting in bed with their clothes on. The woman was telling the man that she was hungry for sex. Suddenly, she began to undress, and he did the same. Within moments, they were kissing and touching each other all over. It aroused me to watch them. I decided it was time to put on the sexy outfit I had bought. Shutting off the VCR, I went into the bedroom and laid my new undergarments on the bed. As I removed my clothes, I had a deliciously naughty feeling. When I was naked, I looked into the mirror at my own breasts and hips. I know my body is far from perfect, but at that moment I felt like the sexiest woman in the world. I was unabashedly setting out to seduce my own husband, and the thought made me feel wonderful. Slowly, I slipped into the red crotchless panties, adjusting the lacy opening so that Rob wouldn’t realize it was there until I showed it to him. Then I put on the bra, garter belt, and hose. My skin glowed white against the lacy fabrics of red and black. I got a pair of black pumps out of my closet and stepped into them. Looking into the mirror again; I appraised myself from top to bottom. My body was firm and tight, and I knew that I looked good in the brief erotic garments. I had worn sexy lingerie on a few occasions in the past, but certainly nothing like this. It made me feel like a different person. I thought about how aroused Rob would get when he walked in the door to find me wearing those seductive things. The idea made me even more excited.

        I could see my nipples hardening, standing out through the lace-trimmed openings in the bra. I stared at them for a moment, watching them become even more erect under my own gaze. I wished that they were darker so that they would be sure to catch his eye. Then, remembering the strawberry lipstick, · I wondered how my nipples would look if I applied a little of it to them. My breasts were beginning to tingle at the thought. When I touched the rigid pink buds with the tip of the lipstick, I felt a pleasurable sensation fl.ash all the way through my body. At that moment, I heard Rob’s car pulling into the driveway. I took a quick look in the mirror at my rouged nipples and the red lace that framed them and rushed back into the living room to make sure everything was ready. I turned on the VCR just as Rob opened the door.

        When he entered, he was bewildered by the unfamiliar lighting effects. Wearing a puzzled expression, he glanced around at the candles and at the porno scene playing on the big-screen TV, as if he thought that he might have walked into the wrong house. Then he saw me and noticed my provocative costume. He stared for a moment at my nipples poking through the lacy peek-a-boo openings. His eyes roamed my body appreciatively, lingering over the black garter belt and stockings. “What’s all this?” he asked softly, obviously pleased by what he saw.

        “Happy birthday,” I said, approaching him slowly with my hips swaying. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him on the mouth. Then, stepping back, I handed him a glass of wine. “I can’t believe all this,” he murmured. “I can’t believe this outfit you’re wearing. I love it. You’ve never worn anything like this before. What’s going on?” Before answering, I began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate movements. As I did so, I realized that our -lovemaking had become so routine that I couldn’t remember the last time I had undressed him. When his shirt was open, I pulled it off him and began caressing his chest with my hands. I heard him sigh.

        “It’s your birthday present,” I said. “It’s a gift of sex. Relax and enjoy it. Taste the wine.” He sipped tentatively, rolling the wine on his tongue to savor its subtle flavor, and sighed with pleasure. He sipped again, and as he did so, I began to unbuckle his belt. Rob stood still as I unzipped his pants and slipped them down over his muscular legs until they fell to the floor. I could see his erection straining at the front of his shorts. Swiftly, I stripped them from him, leaving him completely naked. He was throbbing with excitement.

        “The wine,” I whispered. “Drink some more wine.” As he sipped from his glass, I reached for the sex oil and poured a little of it onto the palm of my hand. Gently, I began stroking his erection, rubbing the scented oil into the smooth skin. I heard him draw in his breath sharply. I didn’t usually play an . aggressive role in our lovemaking and I was truly enjoying it. I liked the feeling of control it gave me to make his sex spring to the touch of my fingers. He moaned. ”If you don’t stop now,” he said, ”it’ll be all over.” “It won’t be over,” I said. “This is just the beginning. Don’t hold back. Come whenever you want to. It’s going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

        The words had hardly left my lips when his penis began to swell and throb, and I knew that his orgasm was about to begin. “Go ahead, Rob,” I crooned. “Let it happen. Let it flow.” And it flowed. I felt his body tensing and relaxing repeatedly in the paroxysms of sexual climax. As his orgasm ·wound down, I led him toward the couch and eased him into it until we were sitting side by side. After a moment, I reached for the plate of smoked oysters and placed one in his mouth. “Eat it,” I whispered. “It’s for sexual endurance.” When he had swallowed it, I fed him another, and another. As he chewed them, we sipped wine and looked at the erotic acts taking place on the TV screen. Two couples were making love in the same bed, and the camera kept shifting from one to the other. Seeing the filmed close-ups of men’s and women’s sex organs fitting together was increasing my excitement and getting Rob started all over again.

        I slid to my knees on the floor between his ankles and bent over his lap. His penis lay soft and shriveled in the tangled mat of curling pubic hair. I teased it lightly with the tip of my tongue and then took him into my mouth. When we first were married, I performed oral sex on him regularly, but for the past few years our sex had consisted of little more than penetration and thrusting. Tonight, though, I was giving him a gift. Tonight I would do everything I could think of to show him a good time! At first I was afraid that I would be awkward, but as soon as I got started I felt like a sexual expert. I found myself enjoying the taste and the bulky heft of his manhood in my mouth. Within moments I was performing for my own pleasure as much as for his. Rob gasped, and I felt him beginning to harden again. I looked up at him and was thrilled to see that he was watching me intently. Almost without realizing what I was doing, I started putting on a show, making elaborate movements with my lips and tongue until I could feel him throbbing and pulsing.

        Slowly, I let him slip from between my lips. His shaft was rigid and gleamed with moisture. Rising from the floor, I faced him and sat on his lap, straddling his thighs. I saw him looking at my painted nipples. “Taste them,” I said. “It’s part of the surprise.” He licked the tips of my breasts, smiling when he noticed the strawberry flavoring. I could feel the head of his manhood nudging at my opening through the fringed slit at the crotch of my sexy panties. Moving my hips slightly, I worked him inside. Then, with a forward thrust of my pelvis, I buried him completely. By now I was so wet that he slipped in easily. It felt wonderful.

        The two of us rocked back and forth, undulating with rhythmic strokes that caused his length to slide in and out, warming and stretching my internal membranes. I felt him thickening and beginning to throb again. This time, I wanted to make it last. Withdrawing myself from his extended organ, I moved to the floor, falling to my hands and knees. With no trace of subtlety, I waved my backside at him, knowing that my wanton display would arouse him even further. With swaying movements, I silently invited him to enter me from behind.

        We hadn’t done it that way in years, but I had often fantasized about it, remembering the way he had mounted me “doggy-style” when we were first married. I guess I had been missing it without even knowing that I was. Back then I would sometimes remain poised that way for what seemed like hours as he slid forward slowly into me and rocked back even more slowly. To me, that position symbolized the leisurely lovemaking that we had been neglecting for so long. Somehow the freedom we had once known had been replaced by inhibitions.

        Rob sat on the couch for a while watching me, obviously becoming even more aroused as he did so. Showing myself to him in that lewd and erotic way inflamed me also. I had not felt this uninhibited in years. What started as a gift for Rob was turning out to be a gift for me as well. Within moments, he was on his knees behind me, bumping my buttocks with his stiffness. Then he was in me, hunching wildly to bury his full length inside. We moved together until we both came to the edge of explosion, and then, as if by mutual agreement, we held still for a while. I lowered my body until I lay fiat on the floor with my breasts and belly pressed against the carpet. He waited a moment and then began a rhythmic thrusting again to carry us closer to climax. Reaching around me to cup my breasts in his hands, he stroked my nipples with his fingers. As he drove into me, I felt my· orgasm approaching. When it struck, I moaned and sobbed in ecstasy. It was the most powerful sensation I had ever experienced. Before my climax ended, his began. Together, we drifted on a sea of sexual bliss.

        That night we lay together for hours, hugging and kissing as we hadn’t done in years. We stroked and petted each other’s body until we were ready to make love again. Before the night ended, we experimented with every intercourse position that either of us could imagine, sometimes taking inspiration from the performance unfolding on the television screen. We both lost count of our orgasms. We came to a new understanding about our sexuality. Like lots of other couples, we had become too absorbed in our work and in the minor problems of day .. to-day life. As a result, we neglected our sexual needs for so long that we began to forget that we had them. The surprise gift of sex that I gave Rob that night was actually a gift that we gave each other, a gift that we gave our relationship.

        We resolved not to make the same mistake again. We realized how important it was for us to find time to. make love, and how exciting it was to bring a sense of surprise into our lives. Since then our sex life has improved tremendously. We often make love until the sun comes up. And we take every opportunity to surprise each other with gifts of sex. In fact, that surprise I planned for Rob on his thirty .. fifth birthday turned out to be so important to us that we both agree that it was· the best sex we ever had.

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          THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE

          Sunday, November 29th, 2015

          Sometimes the business of life can become humdrum. We tend to wake up at the same time every morning and go to bed at the same time every night. We build our lives around our sleep, our work, and our meals. If we ever stop to smell the proverbial roses, we are likely to do so only while waiting for the daily commuter train, or during some unexpected free moment in our scheduled routine. That is probably why almost everybody loves a surprise. Most of us have delightful memories of the special surprises we received as children on our birthdays or at Christmas. Even in our tender years, we appreciated anything sufficiently out of the ordinary to excite us with a break from routine. For many adults, sex becomes part of life’s routine. It is scheduled, like a meal, to follow the eleven o’clock news on Mondays and Saturdays, or to precede the kids’ return from a scout meeting on Wednesday evenings. As a result, it loses some of the sparkle that it had when it was a fresh, new experience.

          Some couples have learned to recapture that sparkle by surprising each other with an occasional gift of sex. For the person who receives such a gift, a childlike feeling of excitement lights up the adult world. For the giver, there is the secret pleasure that comes from planning a surprise and looking forward to that special moment when the secret can be revealed and mutually enjoyed. The element of surprise made a real difference in the lives of both couples described in this blog. They discovered that having sex at unexpected times and in unusual settings put a new vitality in their relationships. The excitement that they felt when surprising or being surprised by a partner carried over to spice up even their routine sexual moments.

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            DISCOVERIES

            Sunday, November 29th, 2015

            At thirty, Lou is the owner of his own bicycle shop, having parlayed a college sport into an occupation. He is five-foot-eight, with a lithe and muscular bod, that gives the impression, an accurate one, of great strength. His eyes are brown and his sandy hair is fashionably styled. Lou looks up from a wheel that he is straightening to tell us about his most erotic experience.

            Tracy and I practically grew up together. Her family moved into the house next door to mine when we were in the fifth grade. She was a cutie at the age of eleven, built like a boy but wearing frilly girl clothes. My mom said that it would be nice if I walked her to school on her first day and introduced her to the other kids. So I did. After that, we became the best of friends. Tracy and I were in the same class throughout grammar school and junior high school. Most of the guys I knew had other guys for best friends, and most of the girls had other girls. But Tracy and I had each other. We did everything together. We studied together, we joined the same clubs at school, we were even co-stars in the school play.

            When we weren’t with each other, we would talk on the telephone for hours. We told each other everything. I remember when Tracy had her first period. She told me before she even told her mother. Tracy started going out with boys and I started going out with girls when we were in high school. Naturally, we told each other all about our dates in explicit detail. At first the conversations were about where we went, with whom, what we did, what movies we saw. As we began to discover sex, we talked about that, too.

            I remember telling Tracy about the first time a girl let me touch her breasts. I was so excited, I thought I had finally arrived at the gates of heaven. Tracy knew the girl. “Ooh, she’s got big ones,” she said. “I wish I had boobs that size. Did she let you put your hand inside her bra?” Somehow it seemed perfectly natural for her to be asking me questions like that, and I was completely comfortable answering them. I told her how exciting it was to feel the girl’s nipples get hard when I touched them and how I was hoping that on the next date I would be able to see them, maybe even suck on them.

            “Last night I went out with Bobby,” she said. “And he wanted to feel my titties.” “Did you let him?” I asked, breathless with curiosity. “No,” she said, adding thoughtfully, “but I think I will at the drive-in tomorrow night. After all, I don’t want you getting too far ahead of me.” A couple of years later, Tracy told me that she finally had sexual intercourse. We were juniors in high school. She had been dating a college sophomore. She said he made her feel that if she didn’t do it with him it would mean that she was still a child. She confessed that the actual screwing didn’t feel all that good because it was over so fast, but the best part was when he licked her right before getting on top of her.

            I was fascinated. I had heard of girls giving guys blowjobs, but it never occurred to me that a guy might do the same thing to a girl. After Tracy described how good it felt when he put his tongue inside her and all around her opening, I was dying to try it myself. There was a girl named Ginger that all the guys said would do it with anybody. As soon as I got off the phone with Tracy, I called Ginger and asked her out. She said that her parents were away for the evening and invited me to come to her house. I practically ran. . The minute I knocked, Ginger pulled the door open and began kissing me. Within minutes we were both naked, and Ginger was lying back on the couch with her legs spread wide. I just stood there staring, my eyes riveted to her crotch. I was mesmerized by the delicate pink slit with its thick pouting lips nestling in the midst of that hairy jungle.

            Falling to my knees beside the couch, I clumsily started kissing and licking her moist tissues. I was a real klutz, unsure of my movements, afraid that my lack of experience would sh’ow. After a few minutes, though, I started to experiment, discovering ways to make Ginger groan and sigh. Strange as it seemed, I found myself imagining that I was with Tracy. Eventually, I mounted Ginger and thrust myself inside her. My first experience at intercourse was a lot like Tracy’s. It was over too fast for me to feel anything. When we were done, all I really wanted to do was rush off and get to a phone so I could tell Tracy about it. Tracy had a million and one questions. What did it taste like? What did it feel like? How did Ginger act while I was doing it? I described the whole episode to Tracy. I think that my conversation with her actually turned out to be more exciting than the things I had done with Ginger.

            After high school, Tracy and I went away to colleges at different ends of the country. Even though we couldn’t afford to talk on the phone as much as we used to, we stayed in touch by card and letter. We remained as close as ever, continuing to share our experiences. I called her a few weeks before our first Christmas vacation, and we talked for a while about our classes and that sort of thing. As usual, the conversation turned to more intimate matters. I started telling her about a girl I had been seeing, but when I got to the sex part, I found myself becoming uncomfortable. I just couldn’t bring myself to discuss the explicit details the way I always had. And Tracy didn’t seem to be asking her usual questions. When she told me about a guy she was dating, she seemed to be selecting her words rather carefully. It was obvious that she had been to bed with him, but she wasn’t saying much about it, and I wasn’t asking. In fact, without even thinking, I mumbled something about a paper that was due the next morning and hurried off the phone.

            That night I just couldn’t get to sleep. I lay in bed for hours, thinking about our conversation. I was imagining Tracy with another guy. I could see them in bed together, naked, rolling in each other’s arms. The images were so horrible that they made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way. It wasn’t until the morning light began creeping through my window that I realized I was jealous. The reason I was jealous was that I was in love with Tracy. Suddenly, I understood that I had been in love with her ever since we were eleven. I was too dumb, too stupid, too blind to recognize it until now. I felt like I had been struck between the eyes with a sledgehammer. I was stunned. At first I didn’t know what to do about it. Tracy was my best friend. I always told her everything. I wanted to call her immediately and tell her about my discovery, but I was afraid. If she didn’t feel the same way, would this be the end of our friendship?

            It was risky, but I had no choice. Now that the feeling was out, I’d never be able to contain it. It was only six A.M., but l reached for the phone. Tracy answered on the first ring. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Did I wake you?” “No,” she replied with no trace of sleep in her voice. “I’ve been up all night.”

            “Me, too,” I said. Then, taking a deep breath, I blurted out everything I was feeling. Frightened of what she might say, I kept talking as fast as I could until I had to stop for a breath. When I did, I heard Tracy laughing. “I love you, too,” she said at last. “Why did it take us “this long to figure it out? Are we the stupidest people in the world, or what?” We must have talked for an hour, babbling on about our feelings for each other. I never felt better in my life. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the whole world was wonderful. We spoke on the phone again that night. And the next night. And the night after that. All we could think about was Christmas vacation, less than three weeks away. We were both going home and we would be together at last. In one of our conversations, Tracy said, “Do you realize we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve never even kissed?”

            When she said it, something suddenly dawned on me. Ever since the morning when I discovered how I felt about her, my head had been in the clouds. I had been thinking abstractly, my mind filled with rosy thoughts of love and eternity. The concept was so new that sharing these thoughts seemed like an end in itself. But Tracy’s words brought me back to earth. In a few weeks I would be seeing her, holding her, kissing her. We would be making love. The thought excited me more than anything ever had before. “Tracy,” I murmured. “I can’t wait to feel my lips against yours. I can’t wait to taste your breath.” ”I want to feel your hands on my body,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement.

            For a few moments, we were silent, both of us imagining the things we would discover together. Then, in a tentative whisper, Tracy said, “Lou, tell me what you’re going to do to me.” I remembered our high school conversation about the night she lost her virginity. I remembered how disappointed she was that it was over so quickly and how excited it made her to talk about oral sex. “I’m going to take my time,” I said. “I’m going to lick you until you beg me to stop.” Her soft sensual sigh induced me to go on. “I want to put my tongue inside you and slowly explore you with my mouth. I’ll kiss and nibble your most sensitive places while you tell me the parts you like best. I want you to teach me how to please you like no body ever has.” “Yes,” she said. “I want us to do things together that neither one of us has ever done before.” The next night we talked about oral sex again. Nervously, I admitted that I had never tried sixty-nine. I was fearful that she would tell me that she had done it with someone else and that, if she did, my jealousy would be overwhelming. I was relieved when she said, “You mean both of us doing it at the same time. Oooh, I’ve always wanted to try that.”

            We talked about it for hours, imagining together how it would feel when we finally got to do it. I described the position I had always fantasized about. I would lie on my back while she straddled me above. Her knees would be on either side of my head; her face would hover over my groin. She would lower herself slowly so that my mouth came into contact with her sex at the same moment that her mouth came into contact with mine. Our conversation was so hot I’m surprised the wires didn’t burn. At one point I noticed something peculiar about the sound of Tracy’s breathing. “Do you know what I’m doing right now?” she asked.

            I thought I did, but I said, “No. Tell me.” “Well,” she said breathlessly, “I’ve got my finger right where I want you to put your tongue. And I’m rubbing myself slowly and lightly, just the way I want you to lick me.” As she spoke, I began stroking myself, too. At first I just listened to her description of the way she was masturbating, allowing it to lift me to higher and higher levels of excitement. Then, when I felt that I was about to burst, I said, “Oh, Tracy, I’m doing it, too. I’m holding my cock and imagining that it’s your hand on me. I think I’m going to come.”

            “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. But wait for me. Just another moment. Wait. Wait. Yes, oh yes. Yes, I’m going to come with you. Now. Yes, now.” Her words and the ·excitement in her voice carried me over the top. I closed my eyes at the moment I pumped my juices into the air. I pictured her hand around my cock, her mouth and tongue caressing my throbbing organ. I don’t know what excited me more: my orgasm or the image of her body writhing as her groans announced her climax. After that, we had sex on the telephone at least once a day, sometimes more often. Although our Christmas vacation was getting nearer and nearer, I thought we would die of anticipation. Our long .. distance lovemaking was stupendous, but we both knew that the real thing would be even more sensational. That last week before the break was ecstatic torment. We talked every morning and again every night. In between, I sneaked off to the bathroom four or five times a day to jerk off. I never felt completely satisfied.

            Neither of us was willing to wait any longer than necessary for our dreamed-0f reunion. Tracy and I agreed to meet at the airport, telling our parents that we would be arriving a day later than we actually were. My plane came in about an hour before Tracy’s, so when she got there I had already made arrangements for a night at a nearby motel. I drove us there in a rented car. It was a good thing there wasn’t any traffic, because I couldn’t concentrate on driving. In fact, I couldn’t think about anything other than getting into that room with her. The hotel clerk worked so slowly that I wanted to jump over the counter and strangle him. Finally, though, we got our key and headed for the elevator. If we had the elevator to ourselves, I think we would have made love on the way up. As it was, a family with enough luggage for a lifetime rode up with us, and we had to restrain ourselves until we were in the room. Once inside, we fell upon each other like a pair of hungry animals.

            The desire that had been building inside us for the last ten years got the better of us. We literally tore each other’s clothes off, tossing the tattered garments around us as we kissed and. grabbed at each other. I bit her nipples and squeezed her breasts until she squealed. She pulled so hard on my cock that it hurt me. But neither of us stopped or wanted the other to stop-not for a second. We sank to the floor, making frantic love on the carpet without a thought for the slow acts we had been discussing on the phone. All I wanted was to be inside her. All she wanted was to envelop me in her softness. We hardly moved before our cries signaled our sudden, simultaneous orgasm. After .. ward, we lay panting and gasping for breath, our arms tightly wound around each other’s bodies. A few minutes later, we began to make love again. This time we moved more slowly, each taking the time to explore the other with the loving curiosity that had been driving us. I kissed her nipples and stroked her soft white belly, while she ran her fingers over my chest and thighs.

            Lifting her, I rose from the floor and carried her to the bed, laying her gently across it. I stood for_ a moment, looking down at her glorious nudity, barely able to comprehend that she was mine, all mine at last. I felt tears flowing from my eyes and realized that she was also crying. Our mutual joy was overwhelming us. Slowly, I bent over her, burying my face between her thighs to sip the honey of her loving excitement. As I began licking her, I felt her hands on my buttocks. She nudged me gently, guiding me down onto the mattress beside her, rolling me onto my back. At the same time, she moved into position above me, straddling me the way we had imagined and described in our telephone conversations.

            I gazed up at her open vagina, its pink lips dotted with glistening diamonds of moisture. Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered it toward my face. I could smell the fragrance of her as the space between us narrowed. When she was only a centimeter away from me, I thrust my tongue outward, stroking it lightly over her delicately parted lips. At that same moment, I felt the warm wetness of her mouth closing around the swollen tip of my pulsating penis.

            So slowly that the progress was almost imperceptible, she took me into her mouth. Following her lead, I slid my tongue gently between the membranes of her vulva. For what seemed like a century, we remained poised that way, tasting the spice of each other’s desire. Each of us slowly became accustomed to the delectable feel of the other’s oral explorations; each savored the taste of the other’s genital secretions. Our contact was so wonderful, so fulfilling, so exciting, that it was like the first time for both of us. We licked and sucked each other until we came to the brink of mutual climax. Then, as if by agreement, we retreated far enough down the slope to allow us to climb slowly to the peak once again. We continued pressing our mouths to each other’s genitals long into the night, each of us recalling the erotic descriptions that had inflamed our imaginations during our daily and nightly telephone conversations.

            We had so long anticipated this moment that neither of us wanted it to end. We drew it out for as long as we possibly could until both of us felt as though we would shatter if we did not allow our orgasms to release themselves. Then, each of us knowing instinctively when the other was ready, we let it happen. Our anticipation had prepared us for something spectacular, but it was even better than we had imagined. We sobbed together as the throes of our climax rocked the bed and filled the air with the scent of our passions. We kept making oral love until we drifted off on a cloud of contentment. Lying side by side, we reveled in our union.

            That night of our first sexual encounter was the best we ever had. I guess the build-up created by our explicit sex talk and the longing that we finally recognized as true love enhanced our fulfillment and increased the rewards we both felt. We spent the rest of the night trying to do all the other things we had discussed and envisioned, but we realized at last that one night would not be sufficient. We would have a lifetime to spend learning to please and delight each other. The following semester, I transferred to Tracy’s college so that we would never have to be apart again. A year later we were married, and now we are living happily ever after. Sometimes during the day, we talk to each other on the phone about the sex games we’re going to play in the evening. That little taste of anticipation always sparks our sexual appetites.

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              THE SWEET TORMENT OF ANTICIPATION

              Sunday, November 29th, 2015

              Christmas begins long before December 25. The excitement starts some time around Thanksgiving, when stores begin putting out their Christmas displays. A day or two later, carols can· be heard in office-building elevators. Soon the nights are illuminated by flashing lights, and families take drives to sections of town where the holiday decorations are particularly elaborate. Well in advance of the big day, we match people to gifts, compiling written or mental lists. We go to malls or out-of the-way shops, where we finger the merchandise while imagining reactions to the purchases we are considering. By December 24, when the wrapped packages find their way under a tree, the excitement has been building for weeks.

              To some, Christmas Eve is interminable and its excitement overwhelming. They try to stay awake long enough to catch Santa dropping in with his bag full of goodies. Others feign sophisticated amusement at their antics but watch the clock’s apparently frozen minute hand in unbearable agony. Imagine how much less fun it would be if we just popped into some government office on Christmas Day for our allotment of presents. Some may complain about waiting, and women may gripe about shopping, but few of us would be willing to give up those torments. If all the preparation was eliminated, inost of the excitement would go with it. No matter how painful it may seem, anticipation has a way of heightening pleasure. The time spent trying to guess what’s in a certain package or envisioning the receiver’s response to it helps increase the joy of giving and receiving. When the exchange actually occurs, everyone’s excitement is so intensified that the wrappings seem more colorful and the ribbons all look brighter.

              Some people have discovered that anticipation has the same effect on sexual experience. The hours or days that they spend planning and thinking about an impending erotic encounter become part of that encounter, stretching its pleasure out over an extended period. When the day or night of passion finally arrives, they feel every touch more acutely, they savor every scent or flavor more appreciatively. The couples in this blog made the best of involuntary separations by indulging in the sweet torment of anticipation, saying that it led to the best sex they ever had.

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                MAKING BELIEVE

                Sunday, November 29th, 2015

                Wouldn’t it be nice if there were magic carpets that could take us anywhere and allow us to do anything? In fact, every one of us has one: the imagination. For a person who is not afraid or ashamed to use it, imagination is a vehicle that can travel to places that are otherwise inaccessible. Our imaginations begin to work almost as soon as we are born, providing us with nonstop fantasies that play continuously in some hidden recess of our minds. As children, most of us acted out these fantasies in games we called “house,” “school,” or “cowboys.” When we wanted to do things that we were too young to actually do, we pretended or made believe.

                In addition to entertaining us, these games served as important parts of our education, preparing us for the experiences of life by giving us an opportunity to preview them. Of course, our games of “house” never involved mortgage payments, we never flunked math when playing “school,” and when other “cowboys” shot us we never died for long. That was the best thing about making believe. Things never happened unless we wanted them to. Some people believe that adults should never lose sight of reality, that pretending is only for children. These people are missing lots of fun. Others know that games of make-believe don’t have to stop when childhood ends. They play “paint ball” or attend murder-mystery dinner theaters, simulating experiences in which no danger is deadly and all endings are happy ones.

                The couples in this blog learned to apply this technique to their sex lives. They say that they had their best sex ever when pretending to be in places and situations that fascinated them but in which they would never really want to find themselves. They permitted their imaginations to weave tapestries of fantasy and make-believe, which they rode like magic carpets to fabulous destinations. Perhaps their stories will give you the inspiration to climb onto your own magic carpet some night or afternoon and let your imagination take you on an erotic journey of your own.

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                  THE MATINEE

                  Saturday, November 28th, 2015

                  Sheila, a charming, voluptuous woman of forty-one, usually keeps her long light brown hair tied back to prevent it from falling in front of her dark eyes as she works in her specially outfitted kitchen. She operates a successful business at home, baking pies for many local restaurants. When her husband, Dave, is not delivering the pies, he a5sists her in the kitchen. At a height of five foot-four, Sheila is about twenty-five pounds overweight, hiding the excess flesh under a loose-fitting dress. There is a chuckle in her voice when she exclaims, “Never trust a skinny baker!” Sheila says that the best sex she and Dave ever had took place unexpectedly one Sunday afternoon.

                  I love working at home. It lets me spend lots of time with the kids. Dave and I have two teenagers. Millie’s fifteen, and Tess is twelve. We just love them to death, but sometimes kids can really get on your nerves. That’s what was happening that day. It was a Sunday, just a few months ago. We work hard all week, sometimes for ten or eleven hours a day. Sunday is our day off. Usually we just hang around the house watching TV and relaxing. But this particular Sunday didn’t feel like a day off at all.

                  For one thing, Millie had volunteered us to make cookies for a fundraiser at her high school, and we worked on them for most of the morning. Talk about a baker’s holiday. Then Tess was whining about something or other and driving me absolutely nuts. When the last batch of cookies came out of the oven, I took off my apron and tossed it to Millie. “All right,” I said. “It’s your project. You can clean up. Your daddy and I are going out for a while.” Dave just stared at me without saying a word and followed me out the front door.

                  As soon as we were outside, he said, ”Hey, babe, what was all that about? Where are we going?” “I don’t know,” I told him. “I just needed to get away.” I stood in the driveway for a moment, looking around. Then, because I couldn’t think of anything else to do, I said, “Let’s go to the supermarket. Not the one around the comer. Let’s go to that fancy one across town. I could use a nice long walk.” “Sure, babe,” Dave answered, falling into step beside me. “You’re stressed. I can see it. A good walk will do us both some good.”

                  We strode briskly for a few blocks, working off some of the steam that had been building. Then, feeling a bit more relaxed, I slowed our pace to a casual stroll. As we walked, I looked around at the neighborhood. We had reached a commercial district, and there were lots of interesting businesses lining the street.

                  I usually drive every place I go, concentrating on the road rather than the scenery. This was fun, especially since we hadn’t planned it. “Look at all these stores,” I said to Dave. “I didn’t even know they were here.” We stopped for a moment to look into the window of an antiques shop, admiring the old clocks and knickknacks. The next place was a jewelry store, and ·I stood in front of it checking out the diamond rings. After a minute, Dave grabbed my arm and said, “Come on, let’s keep walking.”

                  “Relax,” I answered sharply. “It doesn’t cost anything to look. And anyway, it’s safe. The place is closed on Sunday.” I was just needling him. I wasn’t really all that interested.

                  We picked up speed as we started walking again, but suddenly Dave stopped to stare into a shop that sold sexy lingerie. I stood next to him, paying more attention to him than ·to the stuff in the window. I got a kick out of the expression on his face as he looked at the lacy wisps that passed for bras and the little nothings they called panties. “Like what you see?” I asked him. He grinned, embarrassed. “I was just picturing you in some of that stuff,” he said. I noticed that he was getting kind of stiff in the pants. I knew very well that my big butt would never fit into those teeny G-strings, but I sure was glad Dave didn’t see it that way. Looking at the sexy undergarments in the window, I caught my reflection in the glass. I was wearing a shapeless flowered dress that hung on me like a sack. I was a sight. I had walked out of the house without a bra. In fact, I didn’t even have any underpants on.

                  Dave was so busy studying the display of what they call “intimate apparel” that I doubt if he even noticed. I never knew him to be interested in window .. shopping before. I practically had to drag him away from there. I could see a movie theater in the middle of the next block. I didn’t have any intention of going inside, but I always liked looking at the movie scenes in the still pictures they put up in front of a theater. I quickened my step, curious to see what was playing. When we got there, I was a little startled.

                  The theater certainly belonged on the same street as the lingerie shop. The marquee had four huge X’s on it. The titles of the films they were showing were something like Horny Sex Kittens and Lustful Appetites. It was a porno theater. I moved into the area next to the ticket booth to study the photos on display. In one of them, a woman with huge boobs was tied down spread-eagled on a bed. She was naked, but a little black rectangle had been colored in over her genitals. There were four naked men standing around the bed, also covered by black rectangles. One of them had a rectangle that reached almost to his knee. I studied the picture, wondering if his thing could really be that big. Right alongside that one, another picture showed a woman sandwiched in between two men. One of the men had his back to the camera. No one had bothered to put a rectangle over his ass. I looked at it for a minute, thinking about the woman in the picture.

                  I couldn’t exactly see what was happening, but I sure could imagine it. It looked like the men were filling both her openings at the same time. I found the thought deliciously exciting. I wondered whether the movie showed the scene in more explicit detail. Dave began tugging at my arm. He looked kind of nervous. “Come on, babe,” he said insistently. “I don’t think this is the kind of place you want to be standing in front of. Let’s get going.” The soles ·of my shoes slipped on the pavement as he tried yanking me away from there. Suddenly, I felt mischievous. “Wait a minute, Dave,” I said. “Why don’t you take me inside?” I was only kidding when I said it, but once the words were out, i realized that I did want to see what the movie was like.

                  “Are you nuts?” he asked, a look of disbelief on his face. “You can’t go into a place like that. There are all sorts of perverts in there.” · “So what?” I said. “I’ll have you to protect me. Come on. I’ve never seen a .porno movie. I’m dying to see what it’s all about.” . “Not now,” he said, still trying to talk me out of it. “The kids are home waiting for us.” “Let ’em wait,” I answered. “I’m not ready to go home yet. Come on, Dave. I dare you.”

                  “I think you’re serious,” he said, laughing. “You’re damn right, I’m serious,” I insisted. “I dare you, Dave. I dare you.” I watched Dave’s expression change. He never could turn down a dare. Without another word, he dug some money out of his pocket and stepped up to the ticket window. “Two, please,” he said. Waving the tickets in front of my face, he took my arm and led me inside.

                  When we walked in, there were images flickering across the screen, but the theater was so dark that I stumbled. “Here,” Dave whispered hoarsely. “Let’s just sit back here until our eyes get accustomed to the darkness.” I wanted to get closer to the screen, but Dave’s suggestion seemed like a good one. We picked our way over a few seats until we reached the center of the last row. Suddenly, I felt a little nervous. Anxiously, I glanced around, trying to see whether there were any perverts sitting near us. The place was practically empty. There were just a few people scattered here and there watching the screen. They were all men and they all looked pretty normal to me. Feeling a little more secure, I turned to look at the movie.

                  The timing was perfect. There on the screen was the sandwich scene from the picture outside. The woman was young-in her mid-twenties, I’d say. Somehow I had always figured that porno actress were tired old hags. I was kind of surprised at how good-looking this one was. The two men with her were helping her get undressed. She was already down to bra and panties. One of the men was standing behind her, unhooking her bra, while the other was tugging at the waistband of her panties. Her undergarment, Its were lacy and brief. They looked like they could have come straight from the window Dave had been staring into just down the street. I must say that the sight of the two men removing those last bits of clothing from her body excited me.

                  When she was all naked, the camera moved in for a closeup, focusing first on her big boobs with their erect pink nipples. Then it panned down lower. Although she was a platinum blonde, the hair of her muff was dark brown. I wondered how she felt standing bare-assed naked for all the world to see. The men were already undressed. The one who had been behind her had the biggest.dick I ever saw. He must have been the man in the picture outside with the huge black rectangle over him. The other guy was pretty ample too, but nothing like his pal. They were standing next to a bed. The one with the big dick lay down on his back on the bed. His hard-on stood straight up in the air like a flagpole. Without any ceremony, the girl got onto her knees, straddling him. The camera moved in for a close-up just in time to show him sliding slowly into her snatch. It seemed to go on forever. I just couldn’t imagine any woman taking so much meat.

                  The other guy stood by the bed watching and stroking himself until he was rock hard. Then, as the girl moved rhythmically up and down on big-dick’s rod, he got into position behind her. This time, the camera focused on her backside, filling the screen with the cheeks of her ass pumping away. Spreading her buttocks with one hand, he guided his organ toward her little brown hole. I felt myself getting wet between the legs as I looked at two men’s dicks at the same time. When the second one began penetrating her ass, I thought I would go up in smoke. I wondered what it felt like to be that woman. For a moment, I forgot where I was and who I was with, but the sound of Dave’s heavy breathing brought me back.

                  Tearing my eyes from the screen, I glanced at my husband. He appeared to be in a trance, his mouth slightly open, his eyes glazed. I looked at his crotch and saw that his pants were stretched tight over his straining erection. Almost involuntarily, I reached for it. When my fingers closed around the taut material, I heard him gasp. Without a second thought, I unzipped his fly. “Hey,” he exploded in a hoarse whisper. ”What the hell are you doing? Look where we are.”

                  By now I had his hard-on out and was stroking it with my hand. “Shut up and enjoy it,” I murmured, turning back to watch the movie. I had never done anything like this before and I was loving it. Dave stopped protesting, his excitement overpowering his paranoia. I just kept rubbing him up and down while I watched the screen breathlessly. The woman was groaning at the double penetration, and I could almost feel it happening to me. Suddenly, I did something I never thought I would do in a million years. Rising out of my seat, I sat on my husband’s lap with my back against his chest so that we were both facing the screen. I arranged the skirt of my dress so that it covered us both, -and I moved my hips, trying to impale myself on his swollen erection. 1·was so wet with excitement that it slid right in.

                  I felt Dave’s hands creeping into the armholes of my dress until he had both my breasts cupped in his palms. He twirled my hard nipples in his fingers and rocked his pelvis up against me to drive himself all the way in. I humped up and down on him, trying to match our movements to the threesome on the screen. I looked around the theater, unable to believe that I was actually doing a thing like this. I was so aroused that it gave me this weird courage. I didn’t even try to hold back my cries as . I felt an orgasm coming over me. It’s a good thing the three .. some in the movie were making enough noise to drown me out, because at that point I didn’t care who heard me.

                  A second after I started to come, I felt Dave throbbing inside me. I could tell by the way he was squeezing my tits that he was coming with me. A few moments later, I was back in my own seat, primly smoothing my skirt over my knees. Dave doesn’t usually come that fast, and I never do. Most of the time, it takes me forever to have an orgasm. But that afternoon in the movie theater I got off within seconds. I guess it was a combination of things: the strange surroundings, the people sitting just a few rows away, the sex scene going on· before my eyes. Most of all, though, I think it was the fact that we did it without planning to. It was something that just happened, something totally unexpected. We never experienced anything like that before. I hope we will again sometime. But for now, Dave and I agree it was the best sex we ever had.

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                    BALLING ON THE COURT

                    Saturday, November 28th, 2015

                    sexy tight white skirt

                    Alan is five-foot-ten with a lean athletic body. Without making obvious efforts to do so, he manage5 to maintain a youthful appearance that belies his fifty-one years. His silver hair is carefully styled to cover an expanding bald spot. His green eyes sparkle in a face that is tanned by frequent outdoor activities. Although he holds a Ph.D. in chemistry, Alan works as sales manager for a major pharmaceutical company. He says that the best sex he ever had happened on a tennis court with a woman half his age.

                    Barbara and I were married for more than twenty years. Our sex was okay, but never really great. I didn’t mind, because I always had a girl or two on the side. In retrospect, I realize that I was a terrible husband. At some level, my wife always knew I was fooling around with other women, but she closed her eyes to it. Sex was never that important to her, anyway. She was more interested in our affluent lifestyle.

                    Everything changed when I got involved with Diane. She’s not much more than half my age, but she’s absolutely the most exciting creature I ever met. When I started going out with her, it was just for sex, as with all the women I dated. Before I knew it, I was head over heels in love with her, or maybe just obsessed with her. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. Once I started seeing her, I didn’t want any other women. That’s what broke up my marriage. As long as my affairs were casual, Barbara never mentioned them. When she found out about Diane, though, she refused to tolerate it. I’m sure Diane’s age was a problem for Barbara, but what bothered her most was the fact that I wasn’t going out with anyone else. That made my relationship with Diane serious. That’s when Barbara filed for divorce. Except for a few financial problems, I didn’t mind the divorce at all. It gave me more time for Diane.

                    I think what makes Diane so sexy is that she’s completely uninhibited. When I’m out with her, I never know where or when we’re going to end up doing it. She doesn’t plan ·it. She just has such a spontaneous nature that she is willing to take advantage of whatever situation arises. I love the adventures that we have together. We’ve had sex at the most unusual times and places you can imagine. I guess the best time of all was one night on the tennis court. Actually, tennis has been a kind of background for our entire relationship. The first time I saw her was at the tennis club. I go there a couple of times a week with some guys from work. We’ve been playing doubles together for years. I like tennis because it helps me stay fit, but also because I’m a bit of a dirty old man.

                    I love watching the women in their short skirts, especially when they bend over to pick up the balls. Women’s underwear has always had an especially arousing effect on me. I think that’s probably true of most men my age. As we were growing up, there wasn’t any Playboy or Penthouse magazine with pictures of naked women. The best we could do was the Sunday supplement with its ads for bras and panties. I remember looking at those models posed primly in their cotton briefs and jerking off till my elbows were sore. To this day, I get stirred up by the slightest glimpse of a woman’s undies. I realize, of course, that the briefs women wear under their tennis skirts aren’t really underwear at all. They’re just like running shorts, only briefer. In fact, they wear panties underneath them. Nevertheless, when a woman bends over and her skirt rises up to reveal those little tennis bloomers, I can’t help getting aroused. Sometimes I am so distracted that I’m lucky I don’t get hit in the eye with a ball. My tennis buddies all kid me about it, but that doesn’t stop me.

                    One afternoon, we were playing when Diane caught my eye. She was serving the ball on the next court, poised on her toes with her arms held high, causing the hem of her skirt to rise dangerously. Only a blind man would have failed to notice her. She was about five-foot-three and wore her dark brown hair long and fl.owing. She had a tight little body, with pointy tits and the sweetest ass I ever saw. Her muscular legs were perfectly proportioned, all shapely curves even in her flat bottomed tennis shoes.

                    Her outfit was the standard white, but her skirt was shorter than usual. She must have had it taken up deliberately. I found myself staring openly, waiting for her to bend down so I could steal a peek at what she had on underneath. When it happened, my mouth dropped open. She wasn’t wearing regulation tennis briefs. She had panties on, skimpy white lace panties. They were cut so high that they barely covered her in front and left most of her ass cheeks exposed. When my friends saw what I was looking at, our game came to a temporary halt. For once, they joined me in staring rather than ribbing me about it. Silently, we watched her play. When she bent over, one of the other guys groaned. She must have heard him but acted as if she didn’t. It was obvious that she enjoyed putting on a show.

                    After that, we hit the ball around a bit longer, but none of us was interested in keeping score. When she left the court, there didn’t seem to be much point in our staying, so our game ended early. The other guys wanted to stand around and talk about her and her sexy costume, but I had more important things to do. I knew I had to meet her. I showered and dressed in record time so that I could be waiting for her when she came out of the women’s locker room. As soon as she did, I went into action. Falling into step beside her, I said, “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, and I’d like to introduce myself.”

                    She smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get around to me,” she said matter-of-factly. “Sure I’ll have a drink with you.” “I don’t remember asking,” I said, liking her at once. “My memory must be slipping.” “Yes,” she said, her blue eyes flashing. “I have that effect on lots of men.” We rode in my car to a cocktail lounge near the tennis club and spent a couple of hours there getting to know each other. Diane was twenty-seven and an art dealer with a small but expensive uptown gallery. Right up front I told her I was married, but she just laughed. She said that made me safe and she liked that. We arranged to have dinner together the next night.

                    When I arrived at her apartment to pick her up, she was dressed and ready, but she invited me in for a drink. As she poured, I looked around her living room. Everything· was expensive. The paintings on the walls all had erotic themes. In one of them, a nude woman was looking in a mirror while caressing her own breasts. Her pose and the expression she was wearing captured my attention. I found myself becoming mildly aroused as I studied it.

                    “Do you like that one?” Diane asked, handing me a glass. “Yes,” I said. “It’s very erotic.” “I agree,” she answered softly. “It’s one of my favorites. Every time I look at it, I get turned on.”

                    “I’m glad to hear you say that,” I admitted. “Because it has that effect on me, too. I wasn’t sure that was a legitimate response to art.” “Of course it’s legitimate,” she answered. “Did that painting give you an erection?” I ·was a little startled by her directness but not the least displeased. “Yes, I guess it did,” I confessed. “Let me see,” she .said, stepping in front of me and patting the crotch of my pants with the palm of her hand. My penis twitched against her. Swiftly, she pulled down.my zipper and extracted my swelling organ. I was taken completely by surprise.

                    She clawed at me, pulling off my clothes and filling her hands with my sexual hardware. Within seconds, she was on her back on the floor with her skirt up and her legs apart, tugging me down on top of her. Without any foreplay, I was in her. I thrust only eight or nine times before I started to come. Her cries began just as mine were subsiding. Afterward, as we rearranged our clothing, I said, “Wow, that was a nice surprise. Most women prefer to do it after dinner.” “Maybe we’ll do it after dinner, too,” she answered. “That depends on how we feel then. But I felt like doing it now.” “Do you always do it whenever you feel like it?” I ask~d. ”I believe in taking advantage of the moment,” she replied. “Carpe diem! Seize the day.”

                    In the months that have followed, I found out that she actually lives that philosophy. We have sex at the drop of a hat, any time and any place that the mood strikes her. When we are in bed in her apartment, it might go on for hours. But · when we grab a surprise quickie in some unanticipated situation, the two of us can come and be dressed again within seconds. She never ceases to astound me. That’s probably what makes her so attractive to me. At my age, everything had started to take on the aspect of a routine. Diane has changed all that. With her, nothing is predictable. Sometimes she’ll act in a way which is totally conventional, and a moment later she’ll do something totally unexpected.

                    I’d say she’s like a child, except that when it comes to making love, she’s all woman. The result is that since I met Diane, I just don’t have a need for other wo me anymore. I think the best sex we ever had was on the tennis court. We were both working late and had. agreed to meet at the tennis club at nine for a quick game. The club keeps the lights on until ten, so that would give us an hour to play. Lots of other people had the same idea, because when we started, every court was in use. After warming up for a few minutes, we volleyed for the serve. Every now and then I deliberately hit the ball into the fence so that she’d have to bend down to pick it up. By now I knew that Diane always wore lacy panties when playing tennis. That gave the game a whole new dimension for me. Instead of putting my imagination to work on those white nylon bloomers that women usually wear on the court, I got to watch Diane show me her lingerie.

                    Fifteen minutes into the game, I was so turned on that I thought I might trip over my hard-on while chasing the balls. Each time Diane stood up after bending over, she looked at me and said something like, “Did you like that?” Once she even kicked the ball against the net so that when she picked it up I could have a close-up view· of her scantily covered bottom. I was just about to serve the ball when everything went dark. Frustrated grumbles could be heard from the other courts, where players were complaining about the interruption of their games. There wasn’t a light to be seen, not even in the clubhouse. A voice shouted, “Power failure, folks. Just stay where you are. We’ll have the lights on again in a few moments.”

                    I walked toward the net, cautious until my eyes slowly became accustomed to the dark. When they did, I saw Diane facing me from her side of the net and wearing an impish grin. She was holding her skirt up above her waist. Her panties lay on the court surface next to her. She had removed them in the dark and was showing me her nakedness. I knew it was an invitation. I vaulted the net and put my arms around her. Diane fumbled with the waistband of my shorts, stripping them from me and casting them, with my underwear, into a pile beside her panties. Lifting her skirt again, she began rubbing the hair of her pubis against my swollen erection. “Hey,” I said. “The lights can go on again at any minute. And we’re not the only people here.” Diane lifted herself up to wrap her legs around my waist. “Then we’d better be quick,” she murmured, lowering herself to take me inside her.

                    When she began a rhythmic rolling motion with her pelvis, I stopped worrying about the lights and let my dick do the thinking. Her soft wetness enveloped me completely. At that moment, it was all that mattered. I cupped her naked buttocks in my hands to move her up and down the length of my erection. At first, the spontaneity of our union excited me the way it usually does when Diane’s lack of inhibition takes me by surprise. As I drove in and out of her, though, I realized that there was something extra special about this time. If the lights went on, we would be on display. The possibility inflamed us both.

                    She was whispering ferocious obscenities in my ear, whipping me up to a sexual frenzy. I thrust hard and deep against her, plunging into the whirlpool of her sex. We were racing to a swift climax, caught up in the moment and not caring about the time. “Come in me,” she commanded. “Come in me now!” Her words sent me spinning into space, and I began spewing immediately. When I started pumping, her orgasm struck. Her thighs pressed tight against me, her contractions matching mine. Together we spiraled, seized violently by a tornado of passion. Within seconds, we reached its summit and began the floating descent that returned us to the world.

                    As our mutual climax wound down, Diane’s legs released their grip on my hips. We stood in fevered embrace, her arms still around my neck and my hands still clutching her ass. Our tongues were clashing in afterplay kisses when the lights suddenly went on. I was aware of it at once, even though my eyes were closed. Realizing that I was bare assed, I tried to break the clinch, but Diane held on to me a moment longer. Sure that all the other tennis players were looking at us, I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to face them. When Diane’s arms relaxed, loosening their grasp, I stepped back against the net. I glanced quickly around, but everyone else on the courts seemed to be studiously looking elsewhere. Trying to use Diane as a shield, I hurried into my togs, thrusting her discarded panties into my pocket.

                    I couldn’t wait to get off the court and away from the embarrassing situation. Once we were in the car, though, we laughed about it. I recalled the excitement much more than the embarrassment. Diane said she was proud of me, that I had more guts than a kid of twenty. Nobody at the tennis club ever mentioned the incident, so I’ll never know for sure whether anybody saw us or not. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care. Life is for living, and it doesn’t pay to worry about what other people think. To hell with them. Leisurely lovemaking, the kind that goes on all night and builds slowly to a poetic climax, is wonderful. But great experiences don’t all have to be like that. They can take place in a fleeting instant .. Even though it happened in a flash, Diane’s spontaneity made that minute on the tennis court the best sex I ever had.

                    I’m still seeing Diane. We might even get married someday. If we feel like it, that . is, and if the moment’s right. In the meantime, I’ve adopted her philosophy: Carpe diem!

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