Fantasies - Irl

Though her husband was on top doing his best to satisfy her, her thoughts were elsewhere. She was fantasizing that a large man, certainly not fat, but very, very large and muscular man was on top of her. Giving her the fucking of her life. She could just barely grab him around his back, feel the tight muscles under her clutching finger tips. Sometimes she would imagine holding his thick neck, or grabbing his ass. Luckily he was propping himself up a bit on his arms or he would probably crush her. Her legs were stretched open to their limit accepting his hips, thrusting into her. And his amazingly thick, long, cock was buried deep into her. Filling her up. She let him take her any way he wanted. She kept focusing on this image until it felt it was very real.

It's the only way she can get off now. She couldn't orgasm any longer with the love making of her husband. It just wasn't intense enough, erotic, sexy, not even close to doing the job. She would lie there and flip through half a dozen or more images in her mind, until she found the one that would work for her. Sometimes an old boyfriend would do it, or someone from work, or someone she saw on TV or the internet. But recently it was the big man that totally dominated her fantasies, got her over the edge to orgasm, in the amazing ways.

She had to give it to her husband though, he usually works at it until she came first. Which can take a while at times. She would plead, "Warm me up honey.", but usually he just went right at it. It was his own fault that it took so long really. So she would drift away into fantasy and orgasm in a dream world. After she orgasmed, she could feel his frenzied cock stabbing inside of her, then a shuddering and he would cum inside her. He would lie on top of her for a moment, before rolling over on his side, and then before too long she could hear him snoring. There were times she would have to do her herself after he fell asleep, or bring herself a second time, to get the edge off. She would bring up the large man into her imagination and bring herself. She wondered a little about whether her husband noticed her bouncing and shuddering next to him, but it wasn't enough of a worry, to keep her from doing it. Then she would be able to sleep too.

The large man, the big man. She kept bringing his image back up, trying to make him, more and more real. Sometimes she think about him at work. Feeling his large hands around her ankles as he lifted her butt up and thrusted himself into her. He began to fill her every hour and often her dreams. His image in her mind doing her would often get her so worked up she would have to go to the bathroom and rub my clit until she came. She look at her face in the mirror afterward and hope no one notices how red she was before going back to her desk. With her pale skin it was hard to hide.

If she could convince her husband to let her get on top, her thoughts could really run free. She was riding the large man's enormous cock for her own pleasure. Controlling the speed and the depth. It is so, so deep inside of her, filling her whole body. Her hands were on his nice wide hard chest. Feeling his hair under her palms. It made a good platform to stabilize herself as she slid up and down. It doesn't take too long to cum when she thinks of it. And she screams and thrashes about with the pleasure of it. Her husband goes along with it, though it's not enough for him to cum. Afterwards she tells him "Take me from behind?" She wants to cum again, using a new image of HIM holding her tiny little bottom and doing her doggy style. She would cum again at the thought of it.

Things went on like this for quite a while. Her reliance on the fantasies becoming more and more important to having intense sex. She could easily draw a picture of her large, huge man, his face his body, his cock.

Then one day it happened. She saw him. Saw the big man walking along the street towards her. He was impossible to miss, as he towered over all of the people around him. As he passed she almost fainted. She hesitated for a second, then knew she had to follow him. He walked at a fairly steady pace, only stopping at cross walks waiting for the lights to change. Then he went into a coffee chop. She looked at him through the window, standing in line waiting for his order to be taken. Do I go in? Or wait. She eventually decide the best thing to do is wait for him to come out. It wasn't too long he came out and started walking further down the street, and then eventually several blocks away opening a door to an office complex.

He went in, and walked over to the elevator bank. She cautiously went in after him, but he was gone in the elevator by the time she got there. She looked at the floor indicators and saw it stopped on the sixth floor. Now she knew where he worked.

The next week or so she waited across the street from the coffee shop, and sure enough he would show up around the same time, grab a coffee and the go to the building where he worked.

One day she called her husband and told him she would be working late and to make his own dinner, she would be home as soon as she could. Then she staked out in front of the big man's office and waited for him to come out. He came out and walked in the direction of the coffee shop but kept going, eventually going down stairs into the subway. She rapidly ran after him and was just able to keep up with him through the ticket gates and numerous stairs to the subway platform. Luckily, he was big and easy to see above the crowd. But she was tiny and when the crowds became thick she couldn't see over their heads. But somehow she was able to do it, and get on the train he boarded. They rode for quite a long time, then she saw him get up and she did as well, trying to stay as hidden as possible. Then he got off the train, walk down the platform, up the stairs to the surface. She followed him a few more blocks and he went into an apartment building. Now she knew where he lived. And she really wanted him more than ever. She was obsessed.

She started hanging out inside the coffee shop as many mornings as she could. She would always try to get there before him. Get a coffee. Nurse it in a corner table and then hide as well as she could when he was inside, but still occasionally taking peeks at him when she could. She tried to burn in his image into her mind, so when she was alone or with her husband making love she could bring it up in the most realistic way possible.

One day she is sitting at a table watching him order and get his coffee. As he was leaving she didn't turn away quite fast enough and he saw her looking his direction. His face changed slightly when he saw her. Looked puzzled, curious, shocked. She turned quickly and looked at her phone. Then she saw his backside, as he left the shop.

She didn't go back for several days, but the pull of seeing him was too great and she eventually returned. She was much more cautious, and tried to make sure he didn't see her looking at him, or see her face.

But about a week later she was looking down at her phone trying to be invisible when she sensed someone was close by, right next to her.

"Hey, do you mind if I share the table with you."

The shop was always crowded, so this didn't seem out of the ordinary. She had been asked this question before. But when she looked up to see who was there. It was HIM. It was hard to get the words out, she was so shocked.

But she said, "Yes, be my guest", and he sat down.

A few weeks ago he had picked up his coffee and was getting ready to leave and go to work when he felt like someone was looking at him. He turned his head slightly and saw a woman looking at him. But no ordinary woman. It was HER. HER. The tiny, little woman with the red hair. The woman of his fantasies, who had been consuming his thoughts, both night and day for months. If it wasn't her, she look exactly like HER. He tried to look closer but when she saw he was looking at her, she had turned away. It looks exactly like her.

Recently when making love to his wife he fantasized that he was actually making love a petite tiny woman, with reddish hair and fiery blue eyes. So very small, but proportionately perfect. She was like a toy for him to use. He loved using her in all sorts of ways. He would drift away on this image, and before long cum in his wife intensely pumping huge volumes of cum inside of her. He found himself thinking about her more and more, her image becoming clearer and clearer in his mind. He searched the internet, going through hundreds of women, finding some that we close, then he would masturbate to it. But he never could find HER exactly no matter how hard he tried.

She started to invade his dreams. Often she was just there, a face he couldn't touch. It seemed when he tried to be with her something would always happen or he would wake up. They kissed once. It was very other worldly. He felt like a feather. Her lips danced on his and he wanted to kiss her harder but she disappeared. Recently though, they had made actual love in his dreams, so realistic that a few times he woke up with cum in his underwear. Just like when he was younger. Wet dreams.

He would think about her at work, on the train to and from work, at dinner, watching TV, all the time. One week, he become so obsessed with her and jack off so many times his cock actually was rubbed raw and painful. He put some lotion on it, hoped for the best, but still couldn't totally stop yanking off to the image of her.

The best though was when he was fucking his wife and let he let the imagery of HER fill his mind so completely he actually felt he was fucking HER instead. He just hoped his wife didn't do or say anything to break the spell.

Then there was the day he was sure he saw her at the coffee shop. He couldn't get over that moment, and it invaded his mind completely. He had to find her again. He made sure to go to the coffee shop every morning. He would hang out as long as he could before having to go to work. For days and days nothing. He got discouraged, began to think it had all been a dream. Then he saw her again. Her face was pointed away from him when he tried to look at her, but it was her. He recognized the hair and her tiny, little body. As much as he tried, he couldn't get a better look at her. He came back every day to look at her. Finally, after several days, he couldn't stand it any longer, and went over to her table and asked if he could sit down.

"Yes, be my guest", she said to him.

He sat down across from her. She was still looking down at her phone, trying as best as she could to contain the ferment of energy boiling inside her. Her pulse was taking off, she felt hot, and her panties felt wet. Her cheeks burned hot red.

He asked, "If you don't mind me asking, do I know you from somewhere."

She heard him speaking to her, but wasn't sure what to say next.

She looked him directly for the first time, close up. It's HIM, exactly. She studied him closely. Every little detail of her fantasy man was right there in front of her, within arm's reach. He was as huge as her fantasy image, and as handsome. He didn't seem to mind she was staring at him. He in fact was studying her as well. Yes, it's HER. He felt a surge of adrenaline flow through him. A tightness in his groin. His cock twitched. She broke out of her revelry long enough to talk, but all she could come with was.

"I don't think so.

It was lame, and she felt embarrassed and could feel her face flush, her ears burn even hotter. Times like this she hated her pale skin which always betrayed her emotions.

She quickly added, "But you look familiar to me too."

He was nice about it though, didn't seem to think it strange she was blushing. He ask some questions about where she was born, grew up, where she went to school, worked. They didn't seem to have anything in common, and couldn't think of where they could have possible run into each other. He looked at his watch and said he had to go, but asked if she came here often. She said yes, almost every morning. And he said, maybe we can meet again and figure out where we have seen each other.

They met again and again in the following weeks. Got to know each other, talked and laughed about all sorts of things. Came to find out they liked each other as persons as well as the image of their bodies. They would leave each day as if floating on air. Lust, desire would fill them throughout the rest of the day. And they would wake up with anticipation of their next meeting.

Her husband noticed she was wearing newly bought sexier clothes, wore more makeup, had her hair done in a different style, that made her look younger. She told him her boss asked her to dress better for the customers. She worked in sales at an art gallery, so it wasn't totally impossible.

His wife noticed a dramatic increase in the frequency and intensity of their love making. When she commented on it, he brushed it aside, and said he didn't know why. Maybe that things were going well for him at work, he wasn't stressed as much. He was happier and she was the recipient of it. She certainly liked the new attention and wasn't going to dig too deeply into it.

In fact, both of them were fantasizing more and more about each other. Every time he made love to his wife, in his mind he was doing it to the little petite woman with the red hair. And she imagined her fantasy lover taking her hard, any way he wanted, overpowering her and shooting his cum deep inside her over and over again.

This went on for a number of weeks, the tension growing and growing. Finally one day he decided he needed to tell her his true feelings. He said, "I need to tell you something", and he reach his hand out toward her. She took it and held it while he explained.

"You aren't going to believe this", he said, "but I felt I knew you even before we met here in the coffee shop. I actually had and still have dreams about you. Think about you all the time."

She looked shocked and very surprised at first, but then felt a warm sensation flowing through her. I had exactly the same feeling, she told him. For months. Even before we first met here at the shop. I felt that I knew you before. I dreamed about you. They talked about how such a thing could be possible. Were they soul mates? Was there some weird quantum thing going on. But they decided whatever it was, it was powerful and meant to be. They were meant to be together.

Then slowly they revealed that they not only had dreams about each other, but that they were highly sexual in nature. This wasn't easy for either of them to talk about at first. They weren't sure how the other would react. But then with relief they found they that they both had an intense desire for the other. Not just a little, but a lot. This opened the flood gates. And then it was all they talked about.

They had been texting a little for a while now. Little things, like, how is your day going, or when are you going to be at the coffee shop. Now their texts became a continuous stream of lust and desire, which got more and more explicit as the days went on. They started hard core sexting. They got each other off frequently. One time they were both in the bathroom stalls at each other's work busily masturbating to the encouragement of each other.

They both knew eventually it would happen. They were the proverbial powder keg ready to blow. First it was kisses when they met at the coffee shop. Caressing each other before they had to part and go to work. Just losing themselves looking into each other's eyes. Then they arranged to meet one afternoon, leaving work shortly after lunch. They got a room at a hotel. She couldn't wait to get to the room. She kissed him in the elevator. Was all over him, climbing up his leg as best she could. They opened the door and fell in the room in a heap onto the bed.

She got on top him and kissed him. He was like a mountain. Her whole body was on him, none of her touching the bed. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and played with his chest. It was a huge turn on for her. The muscles, the hair. She sat on his middle and just rubbed and played with it. He reached up and unbuttoned her blouse, taking it off, then reached around and unhooked her bra. She let it slide down her arms and then tossed it to the side. He looked at her small breasts. They were less than a handful for him, but still nice little mounds to play with. He pulled her up over his head until he could suck on her nipples. He loved the feel of them in his mouth. She was getting shock waves of bliss flowing through her.

They had of imagined these things many, many time in their fantasies and dreams. But to actually feel, touch, kiss the actual real person, filled their senses to overload.

She climbed off him and got to one side near his waist and unzipped his paints, and sought out his cock she could see bulging in his underwear. She was able to pull it out and tried to out her hand around it. She couldn't. So she grabbed it with both her hands and started sliding up and down it, pumping it. The cock responded, swelling and swelling until it stood straight up, enormously tall. She realized it was thicker than her wrist. Would she be able to take it inside her? The thought was both a little scary and not a little exciting. She could feel her pussy responding with a gush of wetness. She unzipped his pants all the way, got down near his feet and removed his shoes, socks, pants, underwear, then took all her clothes off. He waited with anticipation at what would come next.

She climbed the mountain again, until she her pussy was over his cock. Her hands were on his chest and her feet on his thighs. She was squatting over his cock and wanted it inside her. His cock was standing very erect and he grabbed it and guided it between her lips, which now were running wet with her juices. She lowered herself onto it. It wasn't easy but she finally got the tip of it inside her. She could feel it splitting open her lips, then going into her hole. She began to squat down on him deeper. Only a little bit went in, then a little more and a little more. She bounced on him hard and drove him all the way in. Then started riding him in a frenzy. It was her dream come to life. When she closed her eyes now the image was exactly what she was experiencing. She felt his large hands, paws really, holding her at the waist, lifting her and driving her down to her rhythm.

He looked down at her. This little fluff of a thing squatting on him. He was not going to last much longer as it not only felt incredibly good, but the imagery, his fantasies and the real life experience, were merging. Seeing her on him, his cock inside her, feeling it against her wet tight walls, it was too much. She was in the same state of ecstatic revelry. They were both moaning and grunting and swearing as she pounded him again and again.

Both of them had imagined before arriving that they would make love for hours, in all kinds of positions, and here not a half hour in and they were both ready to orgasm. Which they did. He erupted in a huge blasts of his cum inside of her, and felt chills and shivers running throughout his body. She felt as if she was sitting on a lightning rod that had just been hit. Waves of electricity shot into her, making her gasp and lose consciousness for a moment. She was panting like she had sprinted in a race.

She collapsed on him then crawled over and got into the crook of his arm, her head nestled on his chest. It felt very nice and safe here. A home where she could live. He felt her snuggled on him and was very happy. It was just like his fantasies. No, it was better. Much better. He turned his head and kissed the top of her head.

And that was the beginning of many meetings they had over the next year. It was not always easy to find time. Often they would have to resort to the phone and sexting again. And they always had the coffee shop. Though they didn't meet every day now. He cut back on making love to his wife to be fully charged up for the small woman. She fantasized even more, and tried to rush her husband to the end, get it over with, so she could return her mind completely to the one she really wanted to be with.