Daytime: A Valentines Fantasy

This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction, and as every writer knows it’s best to start off with what you know. When I was spying on my wife to find evidence of her affair, I also discovered the blogs she read. In our making up phase I foolishly sent this to her when she was putting the kids to bed and didn’t get the reaction I hoped.

Maybe someone else will enjoy reading it. I enjoyed writing it.

It’s been another of those days. Those days where I only have a few moments of respite from the constant pleas, and moaning, and sarcastic looks. I barely have a few seconds to myself, but when I do I find myself thinking about the night before.

I see flashes of what we did last night.

I see your eyes closed and your mouth slightly open as you quietly moan.

I watch my hands run over the smoothness of your thigh, squeezing the muscle between the top of your leg and your gorgeous cunt.

I can almost feel your hand on the back of my head pulling me towards you. To taste you.

A voice pulls me back to reality. I try to hide my annoyance, but realise that it’s probably a good job as I’m getting hard just thinking about you. I resolve to go home and have a wank as soon as I can get out of this meeting, and it takes the edge away slightly. I smell my fingers, and regret having a shower this morning. There’s still a hint of you there, but not like this morning. Not like when I watched you dress at the end of the bed and inhaled your scent from my fingers. Nothing turns me on more than the physical evidence that I have turned you on.

The meeting finally ends, and I agree to a number of preposterous tasks just to get out of there. The need to cum winning over my need to not be a complete fucking doormat. I just want to pop back to the flat, find a quiet spot and ‘make porn come on my phone’. I’ve gotten into this routine, and I almost can’t remember a different time. I’ll scan through a few pages until I find something that catches my eye. Something real, and more than a little dirty. It doesn’t matter particularly what it is, and I’m only going to use it as a jumpstart. This afternoon, as always, I’m going to cum while picturing you and me.

It might be the time you blindfolded me, and sat on my face while I put my tongue deep inside you.

Or I’ll imagine how my cock felt the night we had the dirtiest, sweatiest, drunken sex one night after we went clubbing. I fucking hate clubbing, but I’d go every week if we treated each other like that at 3am. The way we didn’t even speak to each other, but you opened up to me and I dared to put a finger inside your arse. And with my usual reserve and cowardice obliterated by alcohol and lust, I rammed my cock inside there. We never spoke about that night, but I have thought about it as I’ve cum over and over since.

I walk into the flat and I’m already undoing my trousers as I bump into you. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I thought you would be out. You seem startled, but don’t say anything. You just stand there, with your phone in your hand. I look at your dress, which you say is slightly too short but I obviously think differently. You’re wearing tights, but I can see your painted toe nails through them, and it feels like minutes have passed as I stare at them, and then up your legs. You surely can’t have missed my open belt and my semi hard-on poking out.

This is going to happen. I’m going to have sex with you and I don’t care how inconvenient it is. We enjoy fucking each other. We’re pretty good at it as well. We deserve it.

I pull you into me from the small of your back and kiss you. Not like we usually kiss, but with our tongues forcing themselves into each other’s mouths. How we kissed when we were horny teenagers. I’m not going to make it to the bed before I need to see you naked, and I’m not going to let you stop me. My hands move from your backside to your thighs and I slowly push what little dress there is there up over your waist. I want to feel the nylon of your tights on my fingers, and on cock. On my face.

You never wear stockings or tights ‘for me’ anymore. I still remember the night you walked into where I was working in a short dress, stockings, and no knickers. I was a dumb teenager who didn’t have the experience or fucking togetherness to tell you how fucking amazing you looked that night, and I can’t believe I didn’t fuck you properly, as you deserved, in the store room that night.

So many missed opportunities.

This isn’t going to be one of those.

Despite the initial surprise, you’re enjoying this. Your hands are reaching into my boxers now and you are pulling my cock. I almost succumb to your hands and let you jerk me to an orgasm, but that’s not what I want. And it’s not what you want either. You want to cum. You need to feel me inside you. I need to make you forget everything else on this planet.

I grab your hands and hold them above your head with my left hand. You’re pinned against the wall. You don’t struggle, but you don’t seem sure of what is happening. I kiss your arm from your elbow, down past your armpit. I force your lips apart with my tongue.

My right hands pulls at your tights and pants together. I am desperate to feel you, and this only causes the material to rub your clit and pussy lips until you’re moaning and pushing yourself onto my hand. I rip a hole in the nylon and pull your pants to one side. You are soaking wet, and I push two of my fingers inside you. Moving them in and out slowly, I continue to hold your arms above your head, and you open your legs wider. Inviting me further and further into you. I bring my fingers up to our faces, and smell you. I force my fingers, coated in your wetness, into your mouth along with my tongue.

I need to be inside you now.

I spin you round, and you push your body back out to meet me. I take a second to remember how you look. How much you want me right now. How much you have given into me. I am going to remember this for a long time.

I then I push my cock up inside you. I withdraw slightly, feeling every single blood vessel in your cunt as it runs along my cock. I let the head of my cock rest in the opening of your pussy for a few seconds. Until I can feel your whole body willing me to push it back in.

“Please…fuck me.”

And that’s all I need. You’re begging me to fuck you, and I know I’m not going to last long now. I furiously thrust myself in and out of you. Not knowing what I want to hold more – your thighs in your ruined tights; your tits pushing themselves out of your bra; your gorgeous arse.

Instead I end up pulling on your hair. Not in a violent way, but in a way that says “you’re mine and I am going to come inside you – don’t even think of moving”.

And I do.

I collapse on you and can barely stand up. After taking a few deep breaths I kiss the back of your neck. I move my hand round the front of your thigh, and bring it between your legs. It is soaking from what we’ve just done, but you shiver as I touch you there.

“Let’s go upstairs” I say. I take you by the hand, and you follow me.

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11 thoughts on “Daytime: A Valentines Fantasy

  1. A great first attempt to writing erotica! Sorry to hear you didn’t get the reaction you hoped for :/

    Welcome to Wicked Wednesday. I hope to see you around more!

    Rebel xox
    PS: Do you have a Twitter handle so I can credit your story?

    Like

    1. Thanks so much for the reply, and in particular your kind words. I kind of understand the reaction I got – after all going from 15 years of never talking about sex to emailing that to her when she is putting the kids to bed is a big ask.

      I imagine I’ll be writing more going forward – still got a lot to work through…

      I just started a Twitter account for here, but made the rookie mistake of using my real phone number in the account and someone I know added me instantly. It’s currently @TooMuchMrNice and it’s protected just to filter followers until I find my feet.

      Thanks again!

      Liked by 1 person

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