Chance and Libertine

Her breathing was now clearly audible. The air from her lungs warming her wrists and hands. She was slightly embarrassed about being heard. Maybe it was the open enjoyment and the vulnerability it signified. Humorous given the current circumstances. Whatever the case may be, there was little room to process it further.

The back of her neck was flushed and tense, as had been the case for some time now. Body chemistry is a curious and wonderful thing.

She felt his hands wrap around the flesh at her hips and draw closer. Letting go with one hand, he positioned himself up against her, then pressed forward and eased himself through her entrance. The initial push was deep but careful, and the breath she held on to finally escaped along with the makings of a word.

The whole thing seemed absurd, really. How she had gotten to this point was obvious but still didn't seem to register. An ordinary day. Breakfast. Coffee. A little reading. Yes, a few puffs from a joint and a little masturbation. But routine. No desire to escape from the mold or engage in promiscuous experimentation. Then she found herself febrile, befuddled, and bawdy. Gripping the edge of the couch, panties around her knees, wondering what the wet spot tasted like.

Deviant.

However wicked and guilty she felt, she couldn't shake the raw pleasure of that moment. Prostrate and exposed. Moisture visible on her pubic hair. Waiting.

Corporeality returned as he retracted. Taking his time. Good. No need to hastily squander this.

A hand reached under her t-shirt and cupped her breast, letting it hang as naturally as it could within the confines of the fabric, running his fingers over the nipple.

Another thrust.

He slid her t-shirt forward and off, fully exposing both breasts. They began to sway as the connection intensified. The air tickling her bare skin felt incredible.

Flashbacks as to how it essentially all started. Looking at him and stealing a glance downward. He must have caught her. She caught him starring at her when they first arrived. Not an unusual thing with men. What surprised her was why he was so excited. Today wasn't one of those days where she was lounging around the house in her underwear or workout pants. Errands needed to be taken care of once they left, so she was dressed casually, but accordingly. Maybe he sensed something. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe his body was just arbitrarily flooded with hormones.

Whatever the case may be, that simple look opened Pandora's box. Gradually the awareness of the situation crept to her attention. The emptiness of the place. The vulnerability. The strange and contradictory power she had to do whatever she wanted. It was intoxicating.

Things didn't just magically accelerate to the point they were at now, though. The progression was more of an adolescent dance. Chatting off and on while they worked. Playful banter. Music and sweet smoke filling the air. More stolen glances at each other when they thought the other wasn't watching. Anticipation, excitement, fear, and ardor slowly mixing into a potent cocktail that permeated into her bloodstream and took considerable effort to keep under control.

Hours had gone by like that before they found themselves alone near the small walkway by the front door. She turned so he could get by. When he moved to get past her, their bodies brushed up against each other just enough to initiate a pause. Then a kiss.

The reaction that eventually followed seemed automated. Like some force reached up through her spine, turning her into its marionette, sliding her hand downward to the bulge in his pants. She very nearly apologized profusely and scurried off. But an objection never came. He stood nearly frozen for those few brief moments until she began massaging him.

Crazy. Laughable, really.

At some point during that bizarre sequence, desire overcame him and he pulled her into the corner of the walkway, out of view. She no longer cared about being seen. She knew what she was in for and embraced it. Often, when she touched herself, she would fantasize about situations like this. They were always just fantasies, though. Never any intent on carrying them out in the real world. The real world is too dangerous, dirty, complicated.

Yet here she was. Something was different about this and she let herself go.

No longer constrained by social etiquette, she had unzipped his pants and began stroking him. Eye contact was avoided. Partly out of shyness. Partly because something about doing so turned her on even more.

A change of clothes would have resulted had he not stopped her. That would have been an experience worth having in and of itself. A keepsake and then some. But he had grabbed her by the wrist and put his mouth to hers again. Lips like magnets. She managed to break away, pull her pants down, and kick them aside. Her panties were soaking wet at that point and she wanted him to see them. She watched him stare at her for some time before finally bending forward and positioning herself over the arm of the couch.

Thinking about how she must have looked to him then - as he fucked her now - pushed her over the edge for the first time. Her cries cut through the air, though she was past the point of concern for what that entailed.

The rhythm recovered before she did. Still holding herself up, mouth open, weak with pleasure. The caress against her arms and back was a perfect compliment. Her breasts swayed again with the motion of their bodies and she imagined how they looked from the fringes of the room next to them.

A gentle touch on the back of her arm was followed by a passionate kiss. Eyes closed, tongues intertwined. Hands exploring again, circling her back, cheeks, downy pubis, erect nipples. Reaching outward, quickly finding what she was looking for, ready and accessible. She primed it as long as she could before taking it into her mouth.

It seemed obvious he had let the image of her burn into his memory before finally succumbing to the lure of her body. She imagined what that first touch must have felt like. Gliding up and down over the soft fabric. Moisture exuding from the cotton onto his fingers. The fleshiness of her labia and engorged clitoris. The tension near her anus.

And that first lick was almost too much to bear. His hand tightly clenched around her thigh. The crotch of her panties stretched to the side. When they became a burden they were slid out of the way, but not so far removed as to lose their power to excite. Sometimes it's those subtle details that drive us mad. Painfully short moments that glow in the mind long after.

Those experiences continued bubbling to the forefront of her conscious. Not that she wanted to fight them off. They flooded her mind and catalyzed her excitement. But they were here now. A natural progression. Animal brains had taken over.

Muffled moans weren't enough to mask her enjoyment and she was forced to break free to catch her breath. Thrusts continued sending shockwaves through her body, the ensuing exclamations bouncing off the walls into the heated air surrounding them.

A slight pause as they traded places and reconvened. Bolstered from behind by a new embrace and penetrating force, the sweet, musky scent of her pussy suddenly dancing up her nostrils and spreading across her tongue. She soaked up as much of it as she could and climaxed again.

They carried on like that for what felt like eternity before the pulsations finally arrived. Clenched flesh at her hips nearly made her scream. Then the tight press of his frame against her haunches as the warmth expanded inside her. The other followed as the first had ended. Driving motion slowing down as the fluids began to run over, pattering softly against the hardwood floor. Attention shifting to the sticky sensation coating her cheeks and lips. Collecting what she could onto her fingers as he finished, tasting it and rubbing what was left onto her chest and nipples while shuttering in pleasure.

They stood and collected themselves for a few moments before collapsing onto the couch. Naked and liberated. Laughing about their behavior and the silliness of it all as she lay between them. Kissing her softly and tidying her up as best they could. Like atonement for having been called upon to defile their queen. Sane again for the time being.

Eventually she had to let them go. People had lives after all. Their workday was still young and she needed to return to the normalcy of the domestic life she cherished. But not before taking advantage one last time. Who knows if and when happenstance and foolhardiness would find her like this again.

Fingertips gliding up and down her legs. Goosebumps and parted thighs. Fondling and probing as long as she could stand it. Seizing them with both hands. The clicks and snaps of synthetic eyes. Taking their turns with her as the sun reached its peak and blazed through the skylight.

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Author's Notes:

Full disclosure: as should already be abundantly clear to anyone with professional experience, I am not a writer. I just do this for fun. I find erotic literature more enjoyable and fulfilling than visual pornography. Friendly feedback is welcome.

Also, a critical note. This story is fantasy only. Don't be stupid! Practice safe sex.

With that said, I had a few goals in mind for this writing.

The first was simply to get right to the pith of the matter. We read these for sexual arousal. I did not want to bore, you, the reader with extensive back stories and superfluous details. While this approach does have its place, I find it too common and mostly counterproductive. I've found myself skipping entire pages and chapters elsewhere, only to find the raw moments confusing and ultimately unsatisfactory. So I dove right in with this, trying not to be hasty or clumsy.

Second, thin details and minimalism. This was not based on any objections to other stories. Intricate and expansive details are often fantastic and fuel arousal. My intention in doing something of the opposite here was multi-fold. (1) Surprise; (2) never allowing the reader full verbal satisfaction; and (3) allowing space for their own imagination to fill in the gaps according to personal desires. If in the course of reading this story you assumed the hair color, physique, or the like of any of the characters, then this approach would appear to be working to some extent. Related to this, I also wanted to keep the use of crass wording and details reasonably sparse. The point being to avoid desensitizing the reader, with the added benefit that the words have more of an impact when finally used.

The final goal was to make femininity something of the meta focus of the story. Not simply writing from a female character's perspective, but in terms of general aesthetic sensibility and sexuality. I wanted to convey delicacy and awareness, alongside a woman who is the focal-point, mindful of her carnal desires, and in control. I hope I've at least achieved some level of this.

I hope you've enjoyed it.