THE MEETING
"Hello Darling!" she exclaimed taking his face in her hands and drawing his mouth to hers for a simple though thrilling brush of her lips against his. A polite greeting for all else to see but he felt an instant electric pulse travel through his stomach, cock, balls and even his arse at her touch. He couldn't hide it.
Blushing, he stammered his 'hello how are you' and 'haven't seen you in ages', 'god', etc...She never lost eye contact, nor took her hands from his burning face instead she cupped his cheekbones in her palms, her thumbs softly stroking the growing redness of his cheeks.
She smiled into his eyes as he continued his spluttering small talk -- she knew that he would be hers whenever she wanted him.
Still smiling, she squeezed his right cheek between her thumb and forefinger, shook it playfully before letting go and half patting, half slapping his face.
As she turned away she whispered "I shall phone you my pet"
Three weeks later he had all but forgotten the chance meeting with his cousin's ex wife. It's true that he had masturbated furiously in the days following. Standing with eyes closed, recapturing the feel of her lips against his, breathing in her scent of lipstick and make-up mixed with perfume, and in his endless embellishments, her hand wrapped around his cock or squeezing his balls while her tongue snaked into his mouth and he emptied himself into the bathroom sink convulsing and grunting like an animal.
He had also endured several violently sleepless nights of unfulfilled fantasy -- balls in one hand, dribbling cock in the other lying next to his sleeping wife as his mind raged with a passionate lust for the abuse of another woman. He had teased himself with the fantasies, building them slowly, taking himself to the edge again and again, savouring the imagined control she held over him.
But in three short weeks he had managed to recover some semblance of control...until his telephone rang.
"Sweetheart, I need you to come over tomorrow at around three o'clock. You'll be a good boy and do that for me. Won't you?"
He mumbled 'of course' and 'yes, yes' several times, stammered 'I, I...' as he blushed again feeling an erection starting to grow against his briefs.
"You're so sweet, such an angel," she cooed, "tell me, are you still a virgin?"
His mouth and throat dried up completely as he felt his face burning even more and felt his cock twitch at the question. He couldn't answer. His mind raced as he remembered her taunts when they were younger -- he had been an awkward teenager, she a confident young woman. She had played such mind games with him. He had adored her as much as he had hated himself for his weakness.
"Of course not -- you're married now aren't you? Ah well, happy days...until tomorrow darling."
The phone went dead and he was left feeling strangely alone. His balls were tingling, his cock was stiff and he desperately wanted relief. Instead he sat at his desk teasing himself once again with the possibilities that tomorrow might bring. The only certainty was that he would endure another sleepless night of intensely frustrating fantasy.
THE PAIR
At forty years old he felt he should have grown out of such adolescent fixations -- he had always fantasised about the women around him, always stored memories of their smell, a certain look, a particular outfit or a word or phrase to help fuel his masturbatory needs. His fantasies were invariably based on sexual submission. He was always the weaker in any imagined encounter. He dreamed of being used and abused in every imaginable way and he felt that this was normal, when he was nineteen. But even now, over twenty years later, there were certain women whom he felt spotted his weakness and could exploit it to the very full. These women aroused him in a humiliating, exciting way he found impossible to hide -- his blushes and stammering as much testament for all to witness as the bulge in his trousers. However, none had ever acted beyond embarrassing him, yet.
