Family Friend Adventures

Fifteen years I have known this man. How I've enjoyed him over the years. His greetings are always warm and kind. His smile is open and engaging, along with a wonderful intellect. His physique is a sight to behold and time has been kind to him. The years have not erased my desire. It is possible for us to not see each other for months and yet, when we meet, it is as though time has never passed.

I find myself at his house planning a party for a mutual friend. I'm sure this will be as proper as our other encounters. I can't help but hope for something more as I drive to his house. My cell phone rings, jarring me from my wandering mind. I'm not sure which is better, driving and talking or driving and lust dreaming.

"Hello" I answer. My heart races as I hear his voice. He has the power to tingle a girl, even over the phone, truly a bedroom voice.

"Hey, I'm a bit tied up here at work and will be getting home about 15 minutes later than we'd plan to meet." His bedroom voice makes love to my ear, "Why don't you go through the gate and wait on the patio? The knob for the misters is on the wall near the rose bushes. I'll stop at the store and pick up a steak or two for the grill, you want anything else?" What I want isn't at the grocery store.

"What do you have cold to drink? The steaks sound fine." We sort out the beverages, I ask for soda. After all, we are planning an event – not a lust fest.

I arrive at his house; wander my way around to the back yard. The backyard is nicely landscaped with a couple of shade trees, flowers, and a putting green. I walk around smelling the sweet air next to the flowerbeds. I enjoy the coolness of the shade. A large block fence surrounds his yard and next to a set of French doors is a Jacuzzi.

I find the knob for the misters and turn on the system. Spying the deck chairs, I then kick off my shoes and power up my laptop. Guess I might as well be productive while I wait. I can still smell the roses and hear the birds in the trees. The mist feels cool on my skin and the sun just kisses the horizon. I settle into one of the lounge chairs on the patio and gaze at the mountains peeking over his fence. It is a good, relaxing moment after a hectic day. In many ways, I appreciate the time to recharge before I'm assaulted by his male sexuality. Fifteen years is a long time to deny attraction. It takes a lot of energy.

I begin to work on the spreadsheet I need to get completed before 8AM. The warmth of the sun lulls me into a lazy dream like state. The mist gives me a bit of reprieve from the heat, but I find my own brand of heat. I began to fantasize.

I've seen him in uniform during his law enforcement career, in hunting duds after a week camping, and in a shirt and tie. The one thing I'd really enjoy seeing him in – his birthday suit – well that's one sight I haven't had the pleasure of. I'm such a sucker for uniforms and, if he's wearing one, I might just loose my self-control. I remember that he has been assigned to office duty. Heaven help me if he comes in wearing a dress shirt and tie. That's my second weaknesses.

I discover my fingers motionless on the keyboard of my laptop. Obviously, what's in my mind is much more entertaining than spreadsheets any day. I'd love to spread his sheets and climb into them. Knowing work is a losing proposition. I put my laptop away. Glancing at my watch, I see I have twenty minutes, hmm, that's enough for me.

I settle into the lounge chair and adjust the back to a reclining position. The sun is in my eyes and I move the chair to a more shaded area of the yard. Today was one of meetings and I dressed in a conservative business suit, but the navy is warm in the sunlight. I still have my secrets though, and there is nothing business like about what can't be seen.

I settle into the lounge chair and the heat between my legs has nothing to do with the warmth of the sun. I close my eyes and begin to visualize my lover as he comes through the door.

He is all that I've remembered. His eyes are bright and he carries the grocery bags with ease. As he sets the groceries onto the kitchen counter, I eagerly eye his tall frame. Already, my womanly fountain begins to flow. I blush at the realization. As he turns, I see he is dressed in a white dress shirt, how it stays so crisp in this heat I don't know, and a navy striped tie. His navy dress slacks are form fitting in the seat and pleated in the front. I itch to cup his masculinity in my hand.

Reaching into the bag, he pulls out a six-pack of my favorite Mexican beer and the limes. He remembers no matter how long it's been. "It's carbonated just like a soda," he wisecracks. I'm reminded of how virile this man is as his muscles ripple under his shirt, reaching for the church key. After opening my beer, slicing the lime, efficiently adding juice and tucking the lime piece into the bottle, I am rewarded for my patience. My fingers graze his as I reach for the bottle. I wonder if he feels the electricity as it passes into my fingers. I take a swallow and let the cold, slightly bitter brew flow down my throat - enjoying the sensation of the cool bottle on my lips.

I set the beer on the counter and watch him put the steaks in the refrigerator. Shutting the door, he turns to me and slowly unknots his tie. My undoing, watching a man remove his tie completely sends me into fantasy. The way the tie slides through the collar and the sound it makes, watching him unbutton the top button of his collar. My legs quiver, the blood rushes in my ears. I completely miss what he's saying.

I try to focus on the sound of his voice, but even that has its hazards as I imagine its huskiness in passion. I take another swallow of the brew to cool myself down. Too bad I can't apply the coolness to where I'm really hot.

Thinking I'm on an even keel again, I notice he is still wearing his gun and handcuffs, threaded onto his leather belt. My heart skips a beat as his hands move to his belt buckle.

I startle hearing the birds rushing from the tree at an imagined threat. I am still in the backyard, the air beneath the tree cool. My pussy wet with desire. I discover no threat, and can't imagine what startled the birds, unless I became a bit vocal in my fantasy - always a possibility. Reassured, I return to the rich world in my mind.

"Oh lord, he really isn't," I think as his hands unbuckle his belt. My breathing becomes shallow and he must notice my rapt attention on his every move. Slowly the belt end slides through the buckle and he reaches for his holster. It too travels the length of the belt, making a sliding sound in my ears. I can smell the leather as the two rub together. He removes the gun from the holster, and unloads it. The gun and its ammo safely locked away, he removes his handcuffs from their place. Once again, the smell of leather against leather assaults my nostrils. "Is he going to take the belt off or buckle it?" I wonder. He places the cuffs beside the gun safe, along with his badge.

Reaching for my beer, I feel the coolness against my tongue and the bottle grounds me for the moment. But it is a short moment; the feel of the bottle and having so recently watched him unbuckle his belt causes me to wish for something else. At the thought, my tongue travels the diameter of the bottle, tracing its lip, imagining it is the edge of his dick. It is going to be a long evening as I battle my long-time attraction to this man.

He walks toward me, having completed his evening routine. As he passes by the counter, he picks up his recently discarded tie. I feel my heart catch in my throat as he advances. He moves with such purpose. "Hey, you haven't given me my hug," he said as he nears me.

Setting the beer down, I approach him for our standard greeting. I wrap my arms around his waist as he wraps his around my shoulders. He is so tall my head clears his chin easily, even in high heels. I smell his spicy aftershave and feel the crisp shirt against my cheek. It is the warmth and firmness of his chest which thrills me. I become aware of a pounding heartbeat. It isn't mine, it's his.

I feel his hand wrapped in my hair, tipping my head back. As his lips approach mine, a throaty moan escapes. "Let's stop pretending this doesn't exist," he says as his lips claim mine. I try and shake off the image, thinking this has to be yet more of my wild mind, but the sensations won't leave. As his tongue plunges deeply into my mouth, mine greets his with equal measure. My breasts crushed against his chest, I can feel my nipples poking into my suit jacket. My stomach feels the length of his erection pressed against me.

All too soon, his lips part from mine. We both stand there, breathing heavily, eyes locked. Both of us step back at the same moment. Neither of us knows what to say. I reach for my beer, warming on the counter. My legs still quiver from the onslaught of his passion. Perhaps we share this long-time attraction.

Looking at the tie clenched in his fist, I can see the play of emotions across his face. I set my beer down and walk toward him. This attraction has to be dealt with, we need to address it, get passed it. My walk toward him must be his undoing.

In one long stride I am scooped into his arms and we are heading toward the bedroom. Kicking the door open, he deposits me onto the bed, falling on top of me, raw sexuality glittering in his eyes.

"Fifteen years, Little One. Fifteen years," he moans, as his lips possess mine yet again. The liquid passion is ignited in my loins. I feel his strong legs against mine. My stockings rub against his dress slacks. His need is evident in the bulge in his trousers.

Reaching up, I grasp at his hair. My pelvis pushes against him in need. "Little One, are you okay with this?" Here is my opportunity to send him away, to steel myself against his sexuality. His honor and integrity are some of his traits, which so attract me. My head swimming, blood rushing in my ears, I can only nod my consent.

Watching the passion flame higher, he pushes himself away from me. The cold air rushes between us, further proving the heat we hold together. He reaches for me, and pulls me to a standing position. Reaching behind me he slowly unzips my skirt. The sound of the zipper and our breathing are counterpoints in this symphony of attraction. The rustle of the silk as it slides against my undergarments adds another level of stimulation. The skirt puddles at my ankles and I kick it away, still wearing my high heels.

I fumble at the buttons on his shirt. Why must there be so many and so tiny? As each button is released, my lips meet his flesh. His breath quickens as his hands become still. My lips are trailing ever further down his chest. I pull the crisp shirt from his waistband and roll it off his shoulders.

There we stand at the edge of the bed - him shirtless, me skirtless. He steps back and gazes at me head to toe. "Beautiful" he breathes. I'm not sure if it is me he is referring to, or my cream lace garter belt, stockings, and the cream lace thong underwear.

Some discordant noise filters into my ears. I hear the sound of dogs barking, I find myself lying in a lounge chair, the breeze blowing gently. The dogs are next door, barking at a cat on the fence. Feeling safe, I return to my fantasy world, but first I pull my skirt to my hips and push aside my thong. I find myself wet, wanting and waiting, I return to my lover's mind.

My fingers move to his belt as his move to the buttons of my jacket. Once again, my fingers feel unwieldy as I attempt to unbuckle, unbutton and unzip his pants. I move them past his hips, pausing to feel his firm ass. I've longed to feel it cupped in my hands; it is everything I had hoped it would be.

His hands have finished with my three buttons and he moves to my shoulders as he pushes the jacket off. It falls to the floor, a commingling of clothing. His hands cup my breasts, thumbs rubbing the soft mound above my bustier.

There are no words between us as we fall back onto the bed; he pauses to kick his loafers off, bends to remove his socks. Eying the necktie discarded on the bed, he picks it up and eyes my wrists. I scooting back onto the bed I hold my hands out to him. He kisses my wrists, leaving a hot trail that he covers with the necktie. Soon my wrists are bound and tied to the headboard above me.

I in my thong, garter, stockings, bustier and high heels are waiting. He backs away to stand at the foot of the bed, his need tenting his silk boxers. He already shows the stains of his arousal.

I wait for an eternity as he drinks me in with his lust filled eyes. Reaching for my ankle, he removes my shoes one by one. With hands around my ankles, his thumbs make lazy circles around my anklebone. "Little One, your feet are so delicate" and he massages the arches of my tired feet.

He bends over and blows on my ankle, kisses my legs, his hot breath seeping through my stockings. I want to feel his lips against my skin, not through my stockings and I writhe in need. His hot breath and lips move their way up my calves. His strong, muscular hands hold my thighs and I quiver with need.

"Please," I beg wanting feel his hard length against my body. Wanting my emptiness to be filled yet I cannot reach to pull him closer. Desire drives me mad with need. I try to wrap my stocking clad legs around his head to draw him closer. He stills my legs.

"I have waited for fifteen years, and by god, I am going to take my time," he says with passion before returning to my knees.

My pussy is dripping and I can feel it swell. The picture it must make for him as he makes his way toward my thighs. Surely he knows my need. He must be able to smell my wet heat. Please fill me, release me, I beg silently.

My first skin-to-skin encounter is when his lips reach the bare thigh at the top of my stockings. His breath is heavy as he runs his tongue along the inside of my thigh. His hands hold my hips prisoner. I am unable to move. I can only moan in ecstasy or in the torture of denial.

Slowly, he licks and nibbles his way to my sweet spot. He reaches a finger into the waist of my thong and pulls them off. He takes the time to smell my wet heat that clings to them. I want to take his engorged member into my hand, into my mouth. He marvels at my secret woman spot and settles into the space between my legs.

I feel his breath upon my clit and he begins stroking that sensitive spot along my thigh – near enough to tease, not near enough to please. "Tell me. Little One, tell me what you want." He stares into my eyes; his being as lustful as mine. He allows me time to spiral downward and my breathing eases. I become aware of him, his raw power.

"Lick my clit, suck on it, tease me, make me yours, please," Release cannot come soon enough. He smiles and lifts my trembling legs over his shoulders. His hands support my ass, fingers kneading. The time between pleas and his lips upon my woman's lips is too long.

My lover begins to suckle my wetness, lapping the wet juices that have dripped down my ass. His tongue leaves a trail of fire from my backdoor to my gates of heaven. Still, he has only teased my pleasure center. The man knows the fine science of expectation.

I jump as his tongue finally makes contact with my pleasure center. I can feel my wetness flowing even more so now. His tongue traces lazy circles around my clit. I can feel it swell and grow. I am spiraling ever upward, waiting for the stars. I close my eyes and lose myself in his ministrations.

I'm closer to my release and he knows. He switches from the exquisite attention he's paying to my clit to my belly. He's found a place on my hip to suck and bite. His hands still holding my ass, "Please, let me come," I beg. I've waited fifteen years. I'm tired of waiting.

His mouth returns to my clit, but now his fingers find their way into my cum box, gently teasing. He massages my G spot while sucking on my clit. I am undone. My hips push into his lips, my thighs begin to quiver and I know my sweet release is not far behind.

Once again, my lover leaves me wanting. His sweet lips move to my belly while his fingers continue their G spot dance. His thumb moves to my clit, Looking into my eyes, "Now, Little one. Come for me now," he says. His eyes hold my gaze as I spiral ever closer.

My hips begin a dance of their own. He never falters, yet I know his need is as great as mine. I close my eyes as I feel the tension build. My cunt swells and tightens around his fingers. My thigh muscles begin to tremble. My eyes shut and darkness surrounds me. I forget to breathe as my orgasm draws still closer.

He allows me my sweet release. I scream and moan. I cry and I shudder. My love box flows over his hand. He watches and teases me upward, one shuddering climax after another. "Please, let me come down," I beg.

He falls onto my body, his lips claiming me. Finally, I feel his weight upon me and I reach to pull him even closer. I find that somehow, during my climax my hands have been freed. The necktie attached to one wrist. Dare I hope that his manhood will fill me at last?

As my breathing settles and my senses fill with the essence of this man, I hear the noises of dogs and birds. I am jarred into reality. I look up into the green leaves and feel the breeze upon my heated skin. After adjusting my panties and skirt, I think about returning to my fantasy. Some things must be finished, especially a good fantasy.

Resettling on the lounge chair, I travel into my lover's mind. I don't get far before a sound intrudes into my reverie. I hear the opening of French doors.

My long-time friend approaches. He is wearing a crisp white shirt, dark blue trousers and a navy striped tie. "I bought your favorite beer and a couple of limes. I hope that's okay."