Sixty Second Sexcapade: A Days Labor

I recently moved DC, and I have a recurring fantasy about a Day Laborer who waits in a parking lot of a shopping plaza every day and whom I pass each morning on the way home from work.  He stands out from the rest, because he is considerably taller –about 6’ and he is well built and he dresses in worn out jeans and a faded tank top that shows off his broad shoulders and golden tanned skin.  His hair has a slight curl to it and his smile is flawless.  But his most striking feature has got to be his eyes –they’re hazel –light brown in the middle with a jade green color near the edges.

I stop at the traffic light and he knocks on the passenger window.  Using the power locks I unwind it, and he pops his head in the open window and asks if he can mow my lawn, rake some leaves or clean out my garage.  He knows enough English for me to understand him.

“How much to you charge per hour?”  I ask inquisitively. 

He hesitates then speaks. “Seven, maybe ten –depends on work.”  My mind starts wandering.

“How much to have you for the whole day?”  I am almost embarrassed to ask because I feel more like a john soliciting sex, than a business women negotiating the price of a days work.

“For you –hmmm, eighty dollars.”  I smile as does he.

“Come in.”

On the ride home, I find out that his name is Hector and that he is single, but supporting his mother in Mexico.  We arrive at my suburban home and pull into the garage.  I show him the gardening tools and indicate what needs to be done.  He starts in the backyard, trimming the hedges.  Perfect.

I undress, and then dress in the skimpiest bikini I own –a black string bikini with the matching thong, and slip on a pair of stilettos.  I head poolside to catch some early morning sun.  Hector is wearing nothing but his jeans, boots and a pair of work gloves.  He is bear-chested and sweat streams down his body.

As I sit in a lounge chair, I catch his attention –but pretend not to notice.  Removing the bikini top, I hear the motor stop.  I begin lotioning my breasts with sun-block –squeezing each one before I start to fondle my nipples. 

I reach for the sun-block again and can’t find it.  It is at that moment I feel a pair of rough masculine hands, with palms covered with tanning lotion, caress my shoulders.  My chest rises and falls with each rub he administers and I lean my head back onto his chest.  Hector sits behind me, with his work boots planted on the deck.

The sweet-pungent odor of sweat surrounds me, and I feel wetness escape from my vagina and become absorbed in the tiny strip of fabric between my legs. Hector’s palms slide down my chest and over my breasts.  He massages them, occasionally pulling each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers.

I turn to face Hector.  As I kneel at the end of the lounger, I slowly slip off my bikini bottoms and crawl towards him along the chair.  I rub my breasts up the smooth, sleek lines of his abdomen and chest.  I straddle his legs and can feel his erect penis through his jeans.

We lean in to kiss each other and I taste him –cool and refreshing, like spearmint gum.  Our tongues play for a few moments longer before I pull away.  My lower lips are dying to take a bite out of the giant enchilada in his pants.

I unbutton then unzip his jeans –he isn’t wearing any underwear. His dick is just as beautiful as the rest of him as it is springs out of his pants.  I rub the head, then the shaft before rocking my hips forward and moving him into my vagina.

I slide down onto him, and he fills me completely.  Hector’s fingers move to my belly button and shift down until he touches the hood of my clitoris.  His thumb presses it in then rubs it in a circular motion and I moan in pleasure.

He continues to rub me and I start to ride him –up and down –up and down –every up till the point he’s about to come out and every down until I can’t take anymore of him in.  Hector rubs my clit –faster and faster and the sensations within my hood rise.  I use my hands to anchor myself on his shoulders and ride him harder and quicker. 

I rise up off of him as I cum and he grabs my waist and pulls me back onto him.  He plunges deep within me and cums like a shotgun –Jacking a round into the chamber –then bam!  I feel each jack he releases into my chamber and we kiss each other again, deeper and more passionately.

I end the kiss and Hector looks at me intensely.  “I must get back to work.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you are finished for the day.”  I reach over to my purse and remove my wallet.  I take out a hundred dollar bill and tell him, “Make yourself available to me, and there’ll be more where this came from –not bad for a days work.”

Sixty-Second Sexcapade: How Do I Love Thee?

The summer break between my Sophomore and Junior year in college, I got involved with a man that was several years my senior.  We met through a mutual friend at work, and hit it off automatically.  He was sweet on me and I had him wrapped around my finger.  Whenever we got together –whether we spent the evening talking, were out at a restaurant or having sex –we always had a great time.

Our relationship got a little too serious, a little too quick.  That, coupled with everything that we both had going on in our own lives –his children were starting high school and I was preparing to go back to college, there was less and less time for the two of us to share. And when the summer ended, so did our relationship.  I’ve always wondered from time to time, how he was doing, and if he ever thought about me and that summer we spent together.

Every now and then, when I am alone with myself, my thoughts and my memories, I fantasize about John.  I picture myself coming back from lunch and finding a Frederick’s of Hollywood bag along with a note in an envelope from John, sitting on my desk.  When I open the envelope a hotel pass falls out; the accompanying note reads: Meet me at 7 tonight in room 628 at the Radisson on Nicholson Ave.  Your attire for the evening is in the bag.  I take a peek in the bag and find a red lace bra and the matching panties –that just happen to be crotchless.

I make my way to the hotel, wearing the clothing provided, my favorite red heels and a rain coat.  I wait patiently outside of the room until exactly seven then enter.  There are candles everywhere, and on the bed, completely naked is John.  I remove my coat, and walk over to the bed and climb on to it, then onto John. I sit on his lap facing him –feeling his long hard dick lying between the lips he prefers to kiss,  when he whispers, “I know that I haven’t always told you how I feel about you, but tonight I want to show you –every way I can.” 

He asks me lie on my side –with my legs slightly curved forward.  John crawls around me and I feel his dick snake around the back of by neck before I feel his lips kiss every inch of my outer labia.  The kissing reigning down arouses me to no end.

 John then tells me he wants me to turn, so that I’m on my hands and knees.  He, facing my backside, spreads my outer labia apart then reaches his mouth forward and begins sucking on my inner labia.  His warm breath against my flesh really gets me going.  After he has spent some time sucking he stops and asks me to lie on my back.

While there, I watch him –candlelight casting light and shadow against his body, as he descends between my legs, but now he is biting and gently nibbling on my clit. Holy fuck!  He is teasing the hell out of me –pulling it between his teeth…just the way I like it.  It feels so fucking good that I am ready to cum when he stops yet again –suspending my climax.  I start to get a little frustrated, then John tells me he wants show me he loves me in one more way.  “I want you to pretend my head is a chair and sit on my face.”

I nearly wet myself at the request, but quickly comply, knowing that this shit can only get better.  He lies on the bed, with his head on the pillows and I straddle his face and hold onto the headboard.  John lifts me off of him, “That’s not the way I want you to sit on me –turn around.”

I climb off then back on, in the opposite direction.  I hold onto his chest as his thumbs pull apart both sets of lips, his fingers massage my clit and his tongue makes it way into my pussy.  He is licking the outside with the length of his tongue and flicking inside with just the tip –I know there are no more ways in which he is going to show me his love and I squat further onto him, letting him love me a little deeper.  The tip of his nose stimulates my ass just enough, and I cross the threshold and cum in his mouth, again and again.

Sixty Second Sexcapade: Anchors Aweigh

The spring semester of my Freshman year in college, I had the opportunity to visit my Aunt in Long Island.  Every three months she makes a trek into the City of Manhattan, to buy various things for her Antique store.  She shops out every store from Neiman-Marcus to the Salvation Army looking for just the ‘right thing’ with which to stock her shelves.

During my childhood, she would take me with her as official assistant, in charge of holding all the bags –and I loved it.  I always managed to get a trinket or two in the bargain. But there was something different about that day –starting with the trip into the city –I can’t forget.  The Long Island Railroad was delayed for nearly and hour and a half, and when we finally got on it, it was crowded –more so than normal –so was Grand Central Station and the rest of the city.  The island of Manhattan is home to a lot of people, but for some reason there seemed to be a surplus, that particular day. 

As we strolled down the cobble stones of South Street Seaport and reached one of her favorite shops, we found the answer to all the people –it was Fleet Week, and the USS Abraham along with its battle group, just docked and the city was inundated with Sailors –all shapes and sizes –all colors and flavors –I felt like a kid in a candy store.

As they disembarked and moved in among the Manhattaners, my mind began to swirl with the Naval possibilities.  I imagine my aunt leaving me in the city for the night.  I go to a bar and meet three of the sexist sailors –all dressed in their white Cracker Jack outfits.  They pay for drinks the entire night and when its last call, we leave the bar, but I cannot remember how to get back to my aunts home.

One of the sailors suggests that I join them back on the ship –it is safe, and I can leave first thing in the morning.  I agree, but there is only one problem –how to get me on.  Another of the three has an extra uniform in his pack and I get dressed.  They tell the Quarter Deck Watchstander that I was injured and they need to help me back to my sleeping area.

Once on board, we make our way into the hull of the ship, it’s very noisy and we enter a sound proof room, just beyond the engine room, with a single chair. One of the sailors starts to kiss me, when another pulls him away in order to do the same.  The three of them quarrel because each wants his turn with me first. “Why argue boys, when you can all have me –”

“At the same time?” The one who has been most quiet all evening speaks up. I am taken aback by the question, but I nod my head and all three smile. The three men huddle up and whisper, then they turn to me and begin undressing.  When they finish, I strip for my private audience of three.  “Would you have a problem with being tied up?”  One inquires.

“No.”  Where I stand, one of the men takes a black neckerchief –that is part of his uniform, and ties the ends around each of my ankles, leaving about 6-inches of slack between the ties.  A second sailor uses his sash to tie my hands behind my back, and the third uses his to blind fold me.

I feel one of the men slide between my ankles, while another moves under my tied arms and up against my back. A set of hands on my shoulders, push me to squatting and the man between my legs enters my vagina.  He holds my waist, and lifts and lowers me up and down his shaft.  The movement stops and I am leaned forward by another set of hands.  The man within the ties of my arms spreads my ass cheeks apart and I feel him up against my asshole –his pre-cum smearing it before it enters.  I moan –there are fingers playing with clit, hands on breasts, hands in my hair, there are lips on my back, a dick in my pussy, a dick in my ass –I lick my lips just before dick number three enters my mouth.  I nearly gag, it enters so quickly and the three men start to fuck –all at once –each with their own rhythm –and I’m almost seasick.  Suddenly, their motions are synchronized and I enjoy the sensation of being stimulated in so many ways I lose count.  My rise to climax comes so quickly that it scares me –then I taste cum, and feel it in my pussy and deep in my ass.  God Bless the Navy!

Sixty-Second Sexcapade: Can’t Touch This

I’ve been racking my brain for weeks trying to figure out what to give my husband, George for our anniversary –you’d figure that after being married to a person for 12 years, the gift giving would become easier, but it doesn’t.  After all, what do you give a man who has everything?

The one thing that I wish I could give him is time –there never seems to be enough of it.  Between work and the children, friends and family, community obligations or just things that come up in everyday chaos; I’d like to give him a moment in time that he would always remember, and that we could always relive, whenever we felt the inclination.

 When the day starts winding down, and the children had settled for the night, I steal away to the bedroom, leaving George reading or watching the television. After dressing in the new black lace nightgown I bought especially for the occasion, I slip on my favorite black thong, light scented candles and place them around the darkened bedroom and bathroom.  I start the water in the shower –hot, just the way I like it… then I head for George.

Entering the room where he is relaxing after our day together, I stand there watching him…adoring him…loving him, the way I had so many years ago –the day we became one.  And as I did, the night we became man and wife.  

When he notices me across the room, I slip off the thong and saunter over to him, never breaking eye contact.  Taking my panties in hand, I spread the crotch in front of him –he inhales slowly and as he exhales, I watch his nature rise.  George is tempted to touch me, but I stop him and whisper in his ear that the show is about to begin.  I step back from him and remove the nightgown so he can see all of me.  Rubbing my hands over my breasts, I squeeze them before my thumbs stroke each nipple –pulling them taut, then letting them bounce back.

I tell George there is one seat left for the show, and I’ll gladly escort him to his chair.  He follows me to the bathroom and sits.  Once in there, I tell him the final rule: he can’t touch until the show is over.  As I get into the shower, George undresses.  He is fully erect, and I am in rare form; I swear, if George only knew how arousing I find the scent of vanilla riding on the misty steam of a shower, he’d never let me leave the bedroom.

When I step into the shower, I let the hot water fall across my body and rub down my flesh.  I turn away from him.  George is curious as to what I have in store.  I pour out a small amount of Jasmine scented body oil into my palms and begin to massage my ass.  I rub each cheek individually then spread them apart at the same time giving George a sneak peak at the finale.

When I turn to face him, he his stroking his dick in long deliberate strokes…the show isn’t over.  I pour out some more oil, but this time, letting it drip from the bottle onto my breasts –following the streams of water over my body.  I move my hands down across my breasts eventually to my pussy, and massage my clitoris all under his watchful gaze.

I invite him into the shower and squeeze some of the oil onto his chest, allowing it to drip onto him slowly.  I touch him –smoothing the oil into his skin:  his nipples, his neck, his shoulders and arms.  I pour a little more onto him, but this time on his dick.  I take it in hand and stroke him –down his length to his balls, briefly interrupting the flow for a quick juggle, before I rub up his shaft, applying slight pressure along the upper curvature.  I make it to the head where I use two hands –one to continue stroking him, the palm of the other rubbing in a circular motion down on the head.  George is feeling it as am I, and I’m ready to fuck.

I stop the caresses and turn away from him.  I back my ass up to him and shift it from side to side then up and down.  His dick is between my legs.  I bend over and tell him the show is over and he has permission to touch.