By Paris Waterman
An X – Rated Novel
Illustrated version available on request
Paul Hartstein winced as the icy wind blew the swirling snow into his face and wished he'd thought to bring a scarf with him as he vainly tried to deflect some of the snow from his face and eyes.
He bent his 6'4" feverish frame into the stiff winter wind whipping down Danbury's Main Street. It was the coldest January in forty-seven years and he never doubted it; but he did regret not having taken his car to the pharmacy, but on reflection, it had been awfully low on gas and he didn't have the money to pick-up his prescription and put gas in the fifteen-year-old Dodge Charger.
Paul had graduated from the University of Connecticut with honors; had edited the University newspaper and played linebacker on the varsity football team for three years before a knee injury sidelined him his senior year.
Now 26, he was half finished with his first novel. His first work, a novella about a girl on a train had been submitted to several publishers after his former English professor urged him to do so; but as with most first offerings, it wasn't well received. Rejection slip after rejection slip arrived with almost no comment on the work itself.
If Paul's count was correct, only one publisher had yet to respond, and they may have just thrown his novella away and not bothered with the rejection slip. He was getting desperate, not having eaten in a day or so, and with very little money to his name.
Yet he felt his latest work was far superior to the novella, and was confident it would be picked up when finished, if he could last that long.
He turned right onto White Street, into an even stiffer wind. His one room apartment was still one block east when he smelled the aroma of food coming from the Mexican restaurant a half block away. He realized how hungry he was, and it occurred to him that Jim and Celia Masters, old and true friends from college, lived just two doors down from where he stood.
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Inside the Master's home, Celia munched at a frozen Milky Way while watching an old video of herself and her husband they had made about two years earlier. In it, Celia was lying nude on their bed, on her back and with both legs pulled just past her head.
Jim, her husband, was alternating between licking her ass and her pussy and driving her crazy with pleasure.
Celia stared at the screen, breathing faster than normal as her arousal sent sensations of warmth and excitement spreading outward from her pubis. The ensuing wetness slowly moistened the tiny thong she had on under her jeans. Previous viewings of the same video had produced similar results, and Celia knew that in due course, this thong would soon be soaked through too.
A faint Mona Lisa smile played across her face as she recalled the tumultuous orgasm Jim had given her the day they made the video. The smile widened as she recalled without shame about the number of men she'd passed earlier that very day at the Danbury Mall and how shocked they'd be if they knew what she was doing now. Her fingertips furtively crept across her sternum to caress the contours of her breasts. She giggled on spying the goose bumps popping up on her areolas; took note of a hair now sprouting up there that required clipping and flicked at the nearest nipple until it began to harden.
Pleased with herself, Celia twisted both her nipples. A soft, pleasured moan left her throat and the dimples surrounding them played against her fingertips as she lightly tweaked them.
Another somewhat louder involuntary moan followed as Celia felt the juices begin seeping from her cunt, coating her labia and making the lips slick and ready for a cock, finger, or vibrator. The liquid continued seeping from her as she stared unblinking at the screen as her husband sent his cock into her, filling her with his thickness.
Celia ached for the real thing. Jim wouldn't be home until four or so. With all the snow he had no work to go to and so he was off drinking beer and playing pool with his friends.
Celia couldn't wait any longer; closing her eyes, she imagined a man–-any man—there with her, holding her close and running his hands over her body. Oh, yeah ... play with my boobs, my knockers, my tata's. What else does Jim call 'em? Kahunas and my twins, Fred and Ginger.
Celia looked at her beautiful melons in the mirror, hefting them up to show them off even better.
Shit, my areolas are so big–-I remember the other girls in junior high looking at them with envy and awe as if they were special because of their size, and I guess they are. My titties ... my pleasure domes! With that, she began slapping each of her boobs until the nipples stood up to her satisfaction. Fuck! I'm one hot bitch.
Opening her eyes, Celia noted the video had reached the point where she was cupping her husband's balls with one hand and feeding his cock into her mouth with the other. She moaned recalling the moment then shut her eyes to blot out reality and give in to her imagination, preferring the imaginary man to her husband in a reprised role.
The imaginary stranger teased her back with long fingers, ran his hand along her hip, and suddenly she was aware of the urgency with which his cock was pressing against her thigh.
"Okay–-okay, now for some real fun!" she crowed to the empty room, and spreading her legs pried her thong up so that it wouldn't interfere and set her fingers to roaming over her hairy twat as the first droplets of juice ebbed from her vag.
Celia shoved a pillow between her legs, making it do for her imaginary man, and molded herself to him. With eyes clamped shut, she imagined his fingers slipping under her thong and into her wetness. Not satisfied with that, she rolled over onto her back, parted her thighs and welcomed his imaginary cock into her.
In actuality, Celia's clit had just emerged from its hiding place and she began to rub it, sending a vivid sensation from the delicate nerve endings coursing throughout her body. Her breath was more rapid than before, and her body began to lose itself to her lust.
Oh yeah–-oh yeah–-fuckin' right! Right–-right–-right there baby! Just you and me, baby–-just you and me!
"UGH! UGH! UGH! OHHHHH ..."
OHHHH FUCK ... I'M LOVIN' THIS!
Her body was undulating sensually as her other hand explored other areas of her body–- thighs, belly, breasts.
With a reluctant groan, Celia took the finger from her slippery cunt and brought it to her mouth and started sucking. As the taste of her cunt registered in her brain she shuddered with delight and had a little orgasm.
Moments later she was pumping three fingers in and out of her wet twat, thumbing her clit, and gnawing at the fingers on her other hand to keep from crying out too loudly. For she was certain the occupants of the adjoining apartment had come home earlier because of the snow.
Celia felt a huge cum coming on and flopped backward landing spread-eagled, and covered in sweat, her hair in disarray, and panting heavily, caught sight of herself in the mirror adjacent to the bed.
Christ, I never looked sexier!
"More ... I need more!" she croaked, and bending over from the waist while keeping her legs straight but slightly apart, Celia rummaged around her lingerie drawer, found what she was looking for and gasped, "Gotcha!"
She held the pink cock-shaped dildo she called Big Jim aloft then layback and smiled. Then with due deliberation, she teased herself by rubbing the pink cock up and down her pussy, then around her clit.
A minute or so passed before the first moan left her mouth. Slowly she eased the large toy into her cunt while using her other hand to rub lightly over her clit.
"Oh yes, oh yes," she gasped knowing her climax was close.
Suddenly it's on her!
"Oh fuckkk... oh fuckkk..." a mantra that went on for over a minute as wave after wave consumed her. Tom, Tom." Kath continues on for over a minute as a second wave consumes her, and then the room went silent.
That was the moment the front doorbell rang and catapulted her into action.
