Sixty-Second Sexcapade: Is There Room for One More?

Every morning I am late for work.  Even when I make it in the building on time, I still must wait for the elevator to take me to the 23^rd floor –the elevator ride is long enough, but waiting among the masses that are populated with people each trying to make it to their respective floor by 9 am, is what makes me late.  Yes, I could wake up an hour early –that would put my alarm time at four in the morning and journey into the city, but my bullshit job doesn’t pay me enough; so I am content with being 5 to 10 minutes late, rather than being an hour early.

For the last month or so, I’ve really been making an effort to be on time –well, not exactly on time for work per se, just early enough to catch the elevator, with the fine Samoan dude, Frank, that works in accounting.  He just transferred to our company’s corporate headquarters in Chicago from our branch office in Hawaii –he graduated from the University of Hawaii where he was a star football player.  And if that doesn’t make his sexy ass fine enough, he possesses a business degree with a concentration in finance; he minored in accounting.

Everyday, I just miss the elevator with Frank in it.  I imagine my morning starts off the same way:  I run through the lobby and push my way through the crowd only for the elevator doors to close just before I reach.  Then, perhaps the sensors pick up some sort of interference, and the doors open.  Frank has pushed the open door button to the outbursts of the other angry riders and he tells me, “Come on in…there is room for one more.”  I look at the other riders who are visibly upset that the car has been delayed, then back at Frank.  “Come on,” he says again, “I’ll make myself small.”  He turns from the space in front of me to face the interior of the elevator, and sure enough he has created a space, although quite small, yet large enough in which I can fit –and I squeeze in, in front of him –I too face the interior of the car.

Frank shifts slightly to accommodate me and I am cradled in his chest.  I shift to create some space between the man before me and his briefcase that continues to hit my knee.  I move back as far as I can onto Frank.  He whispers in my ear, “Every time you move like that, you’re make me hard.”  I apologize.  The elevator stops on the 12^th floor.  People get off, but the man with the briefcase doesn’t move, I stand, as still as I can, with Frank’s dick pressed hard against me.  Thirteenth floor;   I can feel his breath on my neck, and I am aroused.  I rub my ass against his dick deliberately, to and fro, then apologize.

The elevator reaches the 16^th floor and stops again. The man with the briefcase gets out, along with everyone except Frank and me.  He turns me around in the empty elevator and I face him.  He squats a little and reaches up the hem of my full-length skirt, and pulls down my panties.  I step out of them.  We’re on the 17^th floor.  Frank rubs his hands up the back of my thighs, as he makes his way to standing.  In one fell swoop, he lifts me up and holds me under my thighs.  He carries me to the corner of the elevator, pinning me against the walls; I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. We’re on the 18^th floor.

Using his chest to stabilize the two of us, he holds me with one arm, while the other unzips his pants.  I feel his dick enter me. Frank starts to fuck, and his heavy breathing on my neck gets me going. With every stroke, I take in his entire length.  It is so fucking good my toes curl.  I look up at the floor and we are on the 19^th.  He starts to fuck faster.  We reach the 20^th. The rocking motions hit my clit just right, and I cum, fast and hard –floor 21; so does he –floor 22.   By the time we have reached the 23^rd floor and the doors open, we are fully dressed and ready to walk out.  I exit first with Frank close behind.  I turn back to get one last look at him before I start the workday, and we exchange smiles of gratitude “I’ll hold the elevator for you tomorrow.”  I wink, because it is the first time since I was hired for the job, that I’ve made it to work on time.

Sixty -Second Sexcapade: Fill Her Up With Diesel

There is only one man I fantasize about –Vin Diesel.  I have many day dreams about him, but my favorite is this:  Vin and I are long time friends –he has written a script for which he believes I would be ideal, and he invites me to his mansion in Los Angeles to look over the screenplay and to negotiate a possible deal.

Vin is an avid weightlifter, and he invites me to work out with him several mornings but I politely decline because I prefer to run.  One morning, I finish my run in relatively good time, and decide that I will hit the weights with him.  When I go into the exercise room, he’s already gone –there is a faint odor of sweat in the air and I am immediately aroused.  I debate whether or not to touch myself there, but opt not to –I don’t want him to catch me, fantasizing about him, while I pleasure myself.  I make my way back to my room, and shower –where find that I am out of lotion.  Wrapped only in a towel I walk down the hallway to his room.

I catch a whiff of aloe vera and honeysuckle –the scent of shower gel floating on the steamy mist of a shower.  His door is ajar and I knock lightly, but he doesn’t answer.  I call his name but still there is no response.  I push the door enough to peek my head in and there he is, laid across his king size bed –arms outstretched, legs spread apart and completely naked. Vin has just showered and fallen asleep on the white down comforter that covers his bed.  His shaft is so fucking big, that it would take two hands to form the circumference of a circle in your palms, and it is so fucking long that it hangs over part of his thigh.  My nipples harden at the sight of him; I consider showering again because I am so wet for him that I am dripping.  I stare at him a minute longer and leave because I would hate for my host to catch me invading his privacy.  I pull the door to where I had found it and start off down the hallway.

“Alexis.”  My name is called.  I turn around and enter the room without knocking.  Vin is still asleep, but he is stroking his dick, from balls to head, which is now fully erect.  He calls out my name again and moans.  I lick my lips, watching him masturbate.  The windows are all open and the white sheer curtains that hang from them sway slightly as a morning breeze comes in.

I unfurl my towel, place it on a chair and stand at the foot of the bed –naked.  He calls out my name yet again.  I realize that he is fantasizing about me in his dream while he’s masturbating.  I want to make every one of Vin’s dreams and every one of his fantasies come true, so I climb onto the bed between his legs and continue to crawl over him until my lower lips are licking his shaft.  Vin wakes and is pleasantly surprised as is evidenced by his smile.  I continue to kiss him with my labia –up and down his length, before he sits up.  “Quit teasing me.”  He begs.

His large hands grab my ass and he lifts me –up to the point I kneeling over him then down –so that I am situated on the head of his penis.  My lips spread around him and I slide all the way down to the point that I can feel him in my abdomen.  He lifts me up as if I weigh no more than a feather and pulls me down on him –hard.  I moan and so does he.

As Vin continues to lift and pull me, my hood rubs up against his firm abs and I feel like I am going to cum, but I don’t want to, so I reach my neck up where I am in a close enough proximity to kiss his mouth and I do.  He rubs his hands up my back until a hand reaches the nape of my neck thus stabilizing my head as his tongue plunges into my mouth.  I stroke my hands along his smooth sexy bald head and start to ride him; in short shallow stokes –just enough to take in his head, then deeper, taking in the entire length of his shaft, all the while rubbing my clit against him.  Vin cums –his dick pulsates deep inside, filling me with his ejaculatory fluid.  I’m instantly heightened to my sexual peek and cum all over his dick. “Wow!”  He exclaims in elation.  “I didn’t know you had it like that?”

“What?  You didn’t know that a Lexus could ride on Diesel?”

Sixty-Second Sexcapade: Touch & Taste

It’s hard to believe that Antoine and I have been married for 6 years. There were times I didn’t think we would get this far. Between work, the children and school or friends and family and community obligations, the autumn always seems to bring so much chaos that it’s often difficult to coordinate our schedules and find “us” time. But, somehow, we always manage to make it work.

It is at these moments, I find myself longing for the summer –the days, so many years ago, when we first got together. Especially those hot summer nights when we would spend hours talking and touching, teasing and pleasing each other to no end. The summer reminds me of ‘Toine –my fantasy is to tempt his taste buds with a picnic. After all, what epitomizes the summer more?

As the day begins to wind down, and the children have settled in for the night, I hand Antoine a note: The evening holds a lot of delicious possibilities; tonight, your senses will be pleasured like never before. The first item on the menu is relaxation. Why don’t you start with a shower? I can’t think of a better way for you to unwind. 

When he reaches the bathroom, there is a bottle of scented body wash along with a note that reads: Hmmm, thinking about you naked makes my mouth water. Enjoy a nice hot shower, but don’t take too long –dessert is almost ready.

When he comes out of the shower, he finds a bath towel, a pair of silk boxers and massage oil along with his third note: Dry yourself off, slip into the boxers and join me downstairs.  I want you to work up an appetite before you get something to eat.

As I put the finishing touches on the picnic, I hear him descend the final steps and take a seat on the red and white checkered picnic blanket when he enters the room.  The scene is absolutely beautiful: the candles have all been lit in the fireplace, the picnic basket is situated next to me and I am dressed in a new black negligee with a sheer bodice, accented elegantly with lace and a pair of stilettos.

Antoine stands at the entrance to the room wearing only the silk boxers and holding the bottle of massage oil. His eyes follow the seductive lines of my gown and I watch as his nature begins to rise.  He silently walks to the blanket and sits down behind me, with his back to the chaise lounge.  ‘Toine kisses the nape of my neck before his fingers delicately pull down the thin straps of my gown. Pouring the oil into his palms, he rubs them together to warm it, and then places his hands on my shoulders, massaging me –getting me aroused.

“This is nice.”  He speaks softly, waking me from my erotic trance.

“It’s just the beginning.”  When he finishes the massage, I open the picnic basket and pull out our favorite bottle of wine along with two wineglasses and the bottle opener.  Antoine wastes no time popping the cork on the bottle and pouring each of us a glass.  I allow him to finish his drink before I hand him a box; enclosed he finds a blindfold and the final note: Now that your palate is wet, it’s time to play a little game of Touch and Taste.

“Touch ‘n Taste?”  ‘Toine asks inquisitively with a tone of playfulness in his voice as he curls the edge of his upper lip just enough, indicating that his mind is swirling with ideas. He licks his lips then continues, “I don’t think I know the rules to that game.” 

“There are only three –” I reply.  “Rule number one: I blind fold you, and you must remain blindfolded for the entire game.”  I take the long sheer scarf from Antoine, and as he closes his eyes, I fold the fabric and gently wrapped it around him tying it securely behind his head.  “Rule number two: I touch your lips with a body part of mine that has been dipped in something delectable and you taste what I put in your mouth.” 

“Hmmm.” ‘Toine moans as he licks his lips again, but this time with purpose. “And three?”

“That’s the hard part –” I lean over to Antoine, gently brushing my lips against his ear, and whisper, “Rule number three: You tell me what you’ve tasted and what body part has touched you.”  I wait to note his reaction; he smiles in delight, leaning his head back to the seat behind him, and then raises it again. “Are you game?” I question.

 “Ready when you are.”  Antoine eagerly responds and we begin. 

I start with something easy.  “I got –” He answers quickly. “That’s peanut butter, and it’s on your finger.”  I congratulate and move onto the next temptation.

“Hmmm –that’s gotta be chocolate syrup on your ear lobe.”

“Two for two, I need to make these a little harder,” I jest.  Onto his next taste.

“I’m gonna have to taste that one again –I know what I’m tasting, but I need another touch.  I give ‘Toine another sample, and he makes his guess, “The taste is frosting?”

“Yes –go on.”  I encourage.

“Is the touch your chin?”

“Very good –are you sure you’re not peeking?”  I kiss him then move onto temptation number four.

“Boy, am I glad I’m a titty-man –” He smiles.

Before he has the chance to guess the taste, I interrupt, “Which one?” 

“I knew you were gonna ask that.”

“Okay, which one?”  I insist.

“Put it back in my mouth and I’ll tell you.”  I touch him again but this time without the added taste, and he begins to suck –slowly at first then with an increasing pressure, taking most of my areola into his mouth, then I pull back. “What? No ice-cream.” He asks.

“You’ve guessed the taste, but which nipple did you touch?”  ‘Toine inhales, contemplating his answer and smiles as he exhales, “Easy –your left one.”  He answers proudly.

“You can see, can’t you?” I interrogate playfully.

“Naw –it’s too dark in here for me to see –”

“Then how’d you guess?”

“I had a 50 percent chance of getting it right –”

“I suppose.”  I concede.

“But I know which one is which –” He teases, and my curiosity is peaked  “The left one is closest to me when you sleep –do you know how many times I’ve taken a mid-night suck on that one?”  My jaw drops in surprise at my husbands little revelation –his dirty talk makes me wet and I am inclined to rush through the rest of the game, but refuse and continue to play.

“All right, ‘Toine –figure out what this one is.”  I dip the sample and give it to him.

“Hmmm?”  He’s stumped.

“Not as easy as you’d thought it’d be, huh?”  I kiss him and ask if he would like another try.  Antoine agrees but is still perplexed.

“It almost tastes like honey.”  He speaks with a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

“Very good, and the touch?” I inquire.

“I don’t know –your heel?”  He guesses.

“No –think higher.”

“Elbow?”  He is still confused.

“Strike two.”

“Baby –I don’t know –your shoulder?”

“Very good.”  I give him another congratulatory kiss and move onto the next temptation.

“Hmmm –” He inhales deeply before I press the taste to his lips. “Are we almost finished?”  He asks impatiently.  “You can’t imagine how horny I am right now.”

“The game is almost over,” I console. “But you need to make your guess.”

“Whipped cream on your thigh –Please don’t ask me which one.”  He begs.

“And this –” I don’t even wait to praise ‘Toine before I give him the next test and try not to prolong his agony.

“Right nipple and that chocloately-nut spread.” 

“It’s Nutella –and you’re correct.”

“We finished now?”  ‘Toine is really feeling it and as slips his hand down the waistband of the boxers and pulls out his dick.

“Just one more.”  I smile and watch his physical reaction to the approaching stimulation –his breathing his heavy as he licks his lips, wetting both top and bottom in anticipation, and he strokes the length of his shaft –from the head to his balls and back up again.  I give him his final temptation, allowing him to time to touch and taste, while I patiently wait for his response. 

Antoine’s tongue laps the tender folds of flesh in his mouth as he alternates between sucking and kissing.  I feel him swallow, drinking what I have to offer –quenching his thirst. ‘Toine runs his fingers through my hair, playing in the tiny curls before his hands find their way to my cheeks, holding me tenderly yet firmly in place, as his tongue enters sending me to ecstasy.