There you were on the other side of the door. Smiling widely at first sight. Your top shirt buttons undone, relaxed you walked in. The light was on, yet dim near the door. I was barefoot, boy shorts peeking from under my satin cami. You lightly grasped the hair framing my face, twirling your fingers through the strands. Leaning in, your lips brushed my cheek in shy greeting. Visibly arrested my skin pebbled at the moment of contact.
I ran my fingers along the collar of your shirt, then down to the first confined button. They deftly worked each button open, memorizing the feel of your body on my way down. Tugging your shirt out of your pants. The smooth leather of your belt sliding free of each notch. As I got your pants undone, your fingers trailed my neck down to the satin covering my breast, my nipple already hard as your finger found it over the tank. We stood for a moment just staring, your pants gone, shirt open.
You reached for the back of my neck, pulling me to you, lips finding. Mouths open, hot and scorching. You kissed me thirsty with need. Our bodies pressed together, you found the bottom curve of my ass, your thumb stroking, hand grabbing. I strained against you, the evidence of your desire apparent. My body shook, ready, wanting. You pulled my shorts off, and knelt to kiss my nipple over the tank. Leaving a wet mark, and my mouth sighing.
Unable to take any more, the rest of our clothes discarded. The city lights were twinkling outside the huge window. You turned me around to look out, standing behind me. Your body curved into mine, mouth close to my ear, “How many people do you suppose are watching?”
I couldn’t answer, my ass grinding against you, wanting you to know, I was ready. You moved in me with ease, hard and silky. My hand found balance, open flat pressed to the window pane. I could barely catch my breath as your hands gripped my hips, then my breasts. I reveled in the feel of your body, hot with lust, meeting mine with each thrust.
I stood in the opposite row of shelves to him. Leaving me only the sight of his jaw through the cracks. I pondered if I could slip my hand through and lightly run my index finger across the bristled skin. I was left bereft in wondering if his eyes were turning my way also. Stock still I stayed even as I watched him move away for the opening, his body stalled blocking my way out, my stomach fluttered and clenched. The slight sound of his boots getting closer, my lips parting, panties damp. A piece of hair fell onto my face, making a crescent moon around my eye, as I looked up at him. Body so close I could smell his cologne, with one small move his belt buckle pressed into my stomach, cold and hard against my thin dress and feverish body. His mouth met mine in the urgency of the moment, hands reaching up my dress. His fingers pushed my panties to the side, the evidence of my desire slick on his swirling fingertips. I clutched the side of his shirt in my fist, caressing him over his pants with my other hand. Our arms rubbing against another in the frantic need. Both knowing it wasn’t the moment to completely satiate our wants, taking what we could right then. I shuddered against his body, meeting his tongue with mine one last time. His lips pressed mine in a chaste kiss as his hand fell away from under my dress. Face flushed, I took my things and left with one last smile over my shoulder at the door..
You know how in movies they have those ten second flashback scenes? Normally with some sort of dramatic sound/music happening. Well- this is kindof what happens to me when I see a man I’m attracted to. Yesterday, I saw two. Both men that I have written my fantasies with them out in story form. Instead of past though, it’s a flash of scenes, of what is possible.
*Backstory: I live in a very small town, around 3,000 people. Therefore, I tend to see these men often or occasionally.
The first one I saw yesterday, I noticed a while back. Probably in early summer last year. He’s very tall, lean, with sharp features. The second I see him, my heart beats super fast and I can’t stop myself from staring. Yesterday, to make matters worse, he had on eyeglasses. Which, on the right guy, are one of my kryptonites. The scenes start flashing:
He turns to look at me, I’m close. He grabs me and lifts my legs around his waist…. My hands start to knock off the hat on his head. He clothes are torn away in urgency…
The other guy, I have entertained fantasies about for around the same amount of time. But I know this man, fairly well. He’s very charming, has a great smile, and one of the best asses I’ve ever seen on a man. Similar things happen to me with him, I may not get as excited, but tend to revert into my own mind. I wonder what he looks like with no clothes. What his fingers would feel like brushing my nipples. I normally see these scenes:
He kisses me, lips swollen, face red from his rough face… Lifts me onto the counter, no time to remove clothes, only necessities. My hands wrapped around his shoulders, inviting him further and further in…
This song always makes me think about it:
It got me thinking about how I’ve recently been pondering my mental status. I’ve said, more than once, “maybe I need to go back on medicine, could it be my bipolar showing up?”. I have yet to discuss this with a doctor, I almost don’t want to. I can’t imagine having to tell a doctor, that I don’t know, “I told my husband I would sleep with other men, with his permission. Is this my bipolar?” The numbness I felt while on medication previously, isn’t something I would necessarily want to repeat. But- what if I don’t really want these things? Okay, maybe I’d still want them, but would be able to push it out of my mind easier. Is it the impulsive, promiscuous side of my nature just pushing through?
On the numbness issue, I’ve never felt as numb and devoid of all feeling as a couple of weeks ago. Everything was a fog, a haze. One day, I woke up and that nothingness had lessened. I’m still depressed, I still feel impulsive. I am actually feeling though.. At what price?