The Fantasy

Richard Hart tells a story of an older man and younger woman who have a passionate fantasy affair. It is a an adventure of passion and romance which is in three parts: The Meeting, The Rendezvous, and The Island.

Part II: The Rendezvous

I half expected to see Jocelyn's face as I stepped through the door into the terminal even though I knew her plane wouldn't arrive at the airport for another 45 minutes. Knowledge doesn't do much to offset the expectation of one's hope against hope.

I would have loved to see her smiling face, to feel the softness of her lips on mine, evading my full possession with a jubilant smile. I wanted to hold her close and feel the warmth and firmness of her breasts pressed into my chest and the full contact of her stomach and thighs pressed into me in a hug that would melt and blend them into one.

I laughed at myself even as I walked down the concourse, knowing that my thoughts would have been inappropriate to even the most liberated observer in such a public form. But I treasured my thoughts of her, my remembrances and my fantasies.

I glanced at my watch and decided to stop in the crowded coffee shop for a moment. I had carefully planned our schedule so that our flights would arrive in the same concourse and allow me to be one of the very few actually waiting at the gate for her arrival because everyone else would have to wait for people outside of the security screening. I knew it was too early to just be standing around.

I stopped at the concourse coffee shop. A moment in line and a quiet, dark corner of the shop left me with my coffee and my thoughts.

Our "first meeting" had been in a coffee shop, not at the airport, but in an airport Hilton motel coffee shop. The weeks after we gotten home from the conference had been a flurry of emails and carefully planned cell phone calls. It began with the reminiscing of our magical moments, both the laughter of our "awkward" moments and the exquisite coupling of our night together.

One late night call, talking each from our "quiet place." For me it was in my car in the garage and her in the downstairs guest bathroom.

This night found us both needing the sexual release of each other. Our talk became quiet, often just listening to each others breathing, until I whispered "I need you!"

She paused in silent and with a little girl's trembling voice responded, "Honey, I need you too... Soon... Promise"

I knew my excitement had peaked and my manhood demanded my attention and with a choked breath I said, "Now!"

Her voice was excitement and confusion, "How?"

I said "Do you want me?"

To which her reply was an instant "Yes!"

Feeling my erection caught in my briefs and tenting my trousers, I asked "How badly do you want me?"

Her voice caught as she answered and she had to start her response twice... "Honey I want you sooo bad."

"Are you wet for me?"

"God yes... I've been since we started talking!"

"How wet?"

"Very"

"I'm so hard for you tonight. I don't think I can wait... I am so close."

With a sense of reverence in her voice she answered, "Really... Oh god."

"I want you to check your panties and tell me how wet you are?"

I heard a gasp and a quivering... "Richard, I'm not wearing any panties now."

"Are your lips swollen for me? Are you hard?"

My breathing was becoming erratic and labored and talking was more a guttural whisper than intelligent language.

Knowing that she was usually already in her nightshirt did little to moderate my thoughts of her tonight sitting with her thighs open and her womanhood swollen and exposed. I unzipped my trousers and pulled my stiffness out and luxuriated in telling her how good it felt to be erect with her.

Through the bits and pieces of words and thoughts we talked ouselves through the building pressure, knowing that I had felt the touch of her loins on fire, and the movement of her hips from the rhythmic thrusting to the maddening pounding of crashing orgasm. my hardness pulsed with the thought of her body... her voice.

As the moment came closer when both knew that the only release was to drive the other over the crest of that passion each lost their own sense and focused on the other. She wanted to know if I was creaming as I stroked himself and I wanted to know if she was fully flowered with her lips gapping open like an over ripe blossom.

The climax of the moment came with only moans and grunts of animal passion as each clenched with their own orgasm, lost in themselves, but keenly attuned to what was happening with the other.

I drenched my hand and had soaked the crotch of my trousers. I knew there would be consequences, but at the moment I was euphoric. Her breathing became less frenetic and measured and I finally ask, "Are you OK?"

"I'm half way between delight and delirious!" I could her the teasing in her voice.

"Oh?" and what would be the delight and the delirium?

"I am sprawled here with my legs flopped open like a two bit whore on payday... soppy and sore... and feeling fantastic, but what I want, Sir, is for you to be between my legs, with your head on my shoulder making me feel complete."

From the impetus of that phone call was born that first encounter. We checked our schedules and found that none of our travel synchronized, but that she had an over night conference and that if she left early that first day there would be an early afternoon of opportunity.

I planned my day carefully, not wanting to explain a flight schedule. I had managed some "mad money" from some of my personal sales commissions and by arranging the travel, I could leave that morning and be home at an hour that wouldn't arouse suspicion.

Her flight was to come in early and we found an airport Hilton motel with a shuttle. We agreed to meet in the coffee shop, though we knew it couldn't last long there.

The Hilton

I walked in the door, with my pulse racing, hopeful that I could see the whole room in a glance. Almost immediately her eyes caught mine. She had been watching.

I walked to the table and smiled as I kissed her politely, "May I join you?"

She lookedme in the eyes and with that wicked look of a teasing woman said matter of factly, "No, you may not. I have other plans! I already have a room and we have no time to waste being polite! Besides, there is room service. Later!"

She moved her hips to slip out of the booth and I watched with a longing ache in my loins as her bottom moved and she stood. She took my hand and started moving without a hesitation.

"What abut your ticket?"

"Fuck the ticket. Or maybe it is just you I want to fuck!"

Red faced now with the blush of sex, I rustled in my pocket and left a five dollar bill on the table not worrying about the waitress.

She ledme into the halls and onto an elevator. The doors closing even as we melted into each other's arms. Our kiss seemed to have only begun before the bell rang and the doors opened, and the couple waiting as we exited smiled without comment.

The electronic pass card key was in her hand as we arrived at the door and wickedly she smiled at me and looked at her hand. Drawing my eyes with her slowly the card passed into the slot, and quickly withdrawn. With her "ooh!" the latch clicked and we entered the room.

The drapes were drawn, but with the door closing, neither of us reached for the lights, only each other.

In the semi-darkness of the room, our lips met again, but with a warm wetness... soft and yielding... open and demanding. I had no idea of whether our tongues were ever invited to join the melee. They just seemed to be there from the beginning.

There was a long dance with only the beat of our hearts setting the rhythm. Things became disconnected with our mouths consuming each other, sucking life and breath from each other. Our hands and bodies seemed to be left on their own.

I became conscious of my hands, having moved from the tight embrace to a roving pair of marauding plunderers... touching, carousing, squeezing and pulling her to me. Her body had melted to me as we kissed, but now I found my hands on her bottom pulling her tightly so that my manhood could grind against her, feeling her move against me. Knowing that she knew my feeling.

The moment changed and the hormones took control and my hands began to pull her skirt up on both sides. Soon I was rubbing her cheeks stretched tight by the pantyhose she was wearing. The only sound I could comprehend was the moaning of her pleasure and the ragged breathing that escaped their lips.

My hands pulled her skirt up to her waist and my hands sought the band of her pantyhose.

"Tight but doable," I thought to himself.

I slipped my hands under the thinly stretched nylon and felt her warm skin in my hands. I was not only pulling her to myself, I was pulling her upwards as I reached down to cup the crease at the top of her thighs. Her legs opened and she was straddling my leg, feeling her begin the movement of riding my leg.

Moving my hands together I discovered, and displaced the softness of her panties and found the warm wetness of her womanhood as she moved her hips up and back. Rubbing my leg and then rubbing my fingers as I gained momentary attention.

Without realizing that she was not consumed with her lips, above or below, I felt her hand on my manhood, touching and discovering. Then the tug as I felt my zipper being pulled down. A quick invasion and liberation as she released my erection.

There was a blur of movement. I couldn't remember the sequence as I sat there sipped my coffee.

Had she unbuckled my belt first and unsnapped my trousers, or had I pulled her pantyhose down dragging her panties with them.

All I knew was that for a moment we parted as shoes were flipped from our feet and trousers and briefs and pantyhose and panties accumulated in a pile beside the bed. Without waiting for her to undress, she had grasped my aching manhood and fell backward pulling me between her opened legs and with an expert guidance system she had placed me at the strategic position to her inner being.

I remembered the feeling, slowly being engulfed in her, but I realized that my excitement would only let me enter about half my length. There was something so erotic about thinking that I was so large and hard that she could not encompass me in one thrust.

Like the pass card key, slowly there was a withdrawal, anguished that I could not simply stay lost in the velvety glove of her center. Then the thrust, driving forward with a sense of conquest. For a moment lost in the male moment of breaching the gates of a conquered city. But in a glimpse of sanity that enfolds the animal lust of coupling, I realized that although I could feel my balls resting on her, I had not yet fully buried myself to the hilt in her wetness. I gauged that I had at least an inch yet to go. Twice now my own size had hindered me, and the third time would be the charm. Withdrawing slowly until I could feel my head nestling just between her pouty lips I thrust again with a groan and felt myself buried into her softness. The length of my erection lost somewhere in her inner universe.

As last I look at her, focused on her, gauging what her reaction might be to my maddening lust, and I saw it in her eyes. Through half closed eyelids and glazed eyes, that look of lust in her eyes also, as though the head of my erection had pushing into her head to push out all thoughts except what I was doing between her legs, sliding into her the full length of her being.

I was mesmerized by her eyes. I was fully embedded in her, willing to just simply let time cease and spend eternity in that between moment. Until her hips said what her mouth could not, moving and thrusting and begging.

I began the age-old act of mating, moving with her through the dance. Sometimes in sync with her tempo, sometimes moving in counterpoint. Feeling the rising of my fullness to the point of explosion and then pulling out to let it pass until the center of her being pulled me back into her depths.

Her breathing became gasping and I knew she was close. I intended to see her over the edge before I would allow myself to even think of my own release. I set the tempo and varied the pace, long, slow, measuring the length of myself in her by millimeters, and then long slicing thrusts that felt like a sword thrust through that pierced her until I could hear her gasp and hold her breath. Then the quivering of her legs that seemed to contract from the very depths of her womb. She wretched with her stomach drawing into a knot. I had never seen a woman do that without being physically ill in gut wrenching heaves. And then the spasms, once, twice and slowly a third. Then a quietness like death.

For a moment I had a eerie feeling of copulating with a corpse. She neither moved nor made a sound and I froze half in and half out of her. And then a gasp that sounded like a person breaking the surface of the water from a great depth, sucking air and fighting for consciousness. A blinking of her eyes and a smile, and the one word that brought light into the dimly lit room... "Wow!"

I wasn't sure whether to continue or withdraw. Finally I ask... "Are we wrinkling your skirt?"

She blushed as though she was just reminded that I was laying between her spread legs with my manhood partly in her. She giggled like a little girl... "Maybe we need to get more comfortable" and she smiled.

I withdrew and moved to pull her up and she looked at my erection. She said, "Pretty impressive" and whispered, "but it doesn't surprise me. You know you had me stuffed like a pig."

Laughing I replied, "And you will be again."

"Do you promise?"

She moved to unbutton her blouse and with one hand pushedme back on the bed, "You just watch."

Slowly she stripped her clothes, knowing I was aching. At one point as she dropped her bra from her pointed nipples, I reached for myself to find some release she just said... "No, no, no... That's mine."

The slow seduction of her clothes coming off was intoxicating. The swell of her breasts and the crowning hardness of her nipples, the dropping of her skirt and the exposing of her navel. The skirt slipped down until the moment the cleft of her womanhood came into view. Even though I had been inside of her just moments earlier, the scene now fully exposed in the filtered light of the room was almost more than I could bear. She finally stood naked before me, and I could see the swollen lips of her femininity extending down beyond her cleft.

I reached out and touched her distended lips and teased, "Didn't get enough of me?

"Not yet" she said.

She moved toward me pushing my shoulders back onto the bed and I moved up so that she could comfortably straddle me. Feeling her legs settle on the outside of mine, leaning forward to kiss me, her breasts burned stripes into my chest. Then settling backward there was the sloppy wetness of her center mopped my manhood.

There was no insistence on her part to complete the coupling immediately as she used my erection to pleasure herself, moving up and down and from side to side. Knowing that her edge was relieved and that mine was becoming more difficult to restrain.

On one movement of her passing she rubbed herself forward until I felt myself rubbing backwards against her back tight entrance, and she moved against me lightly to tease me.

"Just a little more of that and you'll be wet where you're not expecting it" I said

And with that she settled a bit, knowing I was against her tightness and she said, "Hmmm, I think I might like that, but later, and gently, Sir!"

With that I had no control... "Christ... Please... Now""

She was touched and reached backwards to place me at the entrance where we both wanted to be now and this time my thrust was met my her weight dropping down upon him,. I was like a piston that had found it's full bore stroke. With her downward weight meeting each thrust I knew I was as far into her as it would ever be, and I wanted to leave part of himself there forever.

The crashing waves of my orgasm were like hers, I thought as I sipped my coffee.

The clenching of the stomach and the spasms. With each spasm I felt an electric shock of a rope of my being passing through my manhood into her depths. I was not thrusting as I had been. my back was arched like a bridge and I kept myself in her depths, not wanting to let any of myself escape her.

It was not until my climax had subsided to a dribble that I realized that she was no longer on her knees beside him, but like a rider on a bucking bronco, she was lifted until her toes simply gave her balance as she rode me. I realized that my erection anchored deeply in her had been the only thing that had kept her from being thrown to the bed beside me.

I remembered the warmth of that moment as her head rested on my chest.

She dreamily said, "I'm dripping on you... I'll clean up."

"No, don't move, you feel good where you are at."

She snuggled down against me. Her breasts were flattened against my chest as all of her weight was relaxed on me.

My hands moved over her back, feeling the china-like smoothness of her back. She wasn't ticklish as I let my hands roam and caress. I let my hands move their full length over the soft globes of her bottom, and feeling the puddling of my own fluids on my lower belly, I explored the wetness for myself.

I was surprised to find her passage still open from my recent presence and my fluids were sticky and pulled fine mucous wires of connection between her lips and my fingers. The sense of touch was accentuated by the lubrication of my essence as I explored her.

I pulled the fluids from her and backwards and upward through her cleft and was fascinated with the tightness of her "other" entrance. She didn't seem to mind my gentle caressing.

I ask, "Do you mind if I touch you there?" as my finger accentuated the particular point of my interest. I sought no entrance, but was free in my attention.

"Actually it feels good," she said.

I wasn't sure of the proper etiquette for the situation. I didn't know if I should continue my interests until she stopped, or if I should ask first. I decided that as awkward as it was to ask, it would be better for her to know my intentions.

"That place fascinates me, do you mind?"

"No silly. Most women are sensitive there, but you have to be gentle."

I groaned my response as I dipped my finger in my own lubrication and began to explore with greater interest the focus of my fascination.

She moved slightly and canted her hips to allow my interest. She moaned pleasurably as I inserted the tip of my finger.

"You're really tight," I said.

She moved again and some of the tightness was relieved. my finger found easy entrance to my knuckle. I felt the tightness of her muscle as it passed through it and then a different feeling as I stopped to examine the texture.

"How did you loosen yourself up for me?" I asked.

Laughingly she responded, "I can do that when I'm relaxed and you are going slow."

I realized that my breathing was become more rapid and shallow, and that my spent erection was stirring. There was something highly erotic about the situation, although I couldn't quite explain it.

I knew that it was possible to enter a woman there, but it was a "taboo" in any conversation I had ever heard on the subject. Yet my finger, finding a comfortable excitement in her, made me wonder.

I found that she was moist. Not creamy like her vagina. I tried to slip my finger into her deeper and I could feel that she was accommodating him, willing herself to open for me.

"God that makes me horny," I rasped as my erection now rubbed her inner thigh.

She laughed, "I can tell. I feels good so far to me too."

I struggled to ask the question, "What more can I try?" Raising her head she looked at him, "What more would you like to try?"