(Another erotic story I wrote a few years ago. Thanks for reading! Your feedback is quite welcome.)
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**Awakenings**
Chapter One:
She sits, alone again but not really, typing to an old friend online while ‘he’ sits nearby, watching some inane sporting event. She never did ‘get’ the whole testosterone thing. Never could see the appeal of watching a bunch of huge, sweaty men play with balls and smack each other on the asses to say ‘good job!’
He yells “YES!” and shakes his fist, pleased with his team and for a moment, she giggles, remembering other times he’d been so excited.
She thinks back to how it all began…
She was so young then, so naïve. He was married, so therefore a challenge but not much of a threat. They‘d flirted online; they’d talked on the phone in the wee hours of the morning, quietly so his wife could not hear. Him in the closet, whispering, holding his hand over his mouth while he climaxed; she could still hear that muffled ecstasy and remembering it made her smile, made her remember the man he used to be.
She looked over at him now and could barely see even a shadow of his former glory. She could barely remember what about the old him made her so weak in the knees, tingly and so moist in all the right places.
Now, he was just there, like the couch or the lamp. He was furniture. Well worn, familiar, comforting but fading, not quite the style she’d fallen for and simply had to possess. Now, with that newness faded, rather than the object of her desires, he was somehow less of a cherished possession and more of an annoyance, in the way all the time. He was in the way more than he was something she wanted to see yet she still loved him.
Or did she?
Sometimes she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was just the memory of that forbidden love, that conquest, being the chosen one, which sustained her. She hadn’t meant to play the game, hadn’t expected to be sitting here now, years later, with him. She was just having fun and now it was a job. Being with him was a chore sometimes, one she knew she had to perform but certainly did not look forward to. She saw her friends, all smiles and seeming contentedness and wondered if they too put on that air, that façade, just to impress everyone else yet, behind closed doors, did they too secretly wish for more?
She’d remembered how they’d met, he, behind the bar, like some modern day Willy Wonka, dispensing happiness, if only for the moment. He helped people forget their problems, showed them the side of life that was a non-stop party. He was so full of charisma and confidence. He made her feel like the only woman in the room. He smiled at her while he poured drinks for other, in her eyes at least, more beautiful women. She felt that old pain again, that longing for those happier times.
Damn it!
“I’ve got to get out of here.” She thought.
“What can I say to get anywhere but here?” Maybe a walk would help clear her head. The chill in the autumn air might be just what she needed to get back on track.
“Honey?” she uttered.
“Huh?” He said, momentarily removed from his testosterone-laden man place. It took him a moment to realize who she was.
“I’ve got to run out for a sec. I forgot my book at so-and-so’s house. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and was gone into ESPN-land.
She grabbed her coat, keys and bag and started out the door. With each step, she felt more and more alive as though, with every foot away from that emotional morass, she was shedding a layer of dead weight that kept her anchored in monogamy and as the door shut, a bell sounded in her head and she was herself again.
The night held promise. As she walked, she saw strangers on their way to this and that and wondered if they too felt that sense of freedom. She looked up at the moon, a single night away from full, felt its pull.
Random people passed her and with each it was as though her senses were heightened. She could smell their musk as though she were an animal, attuned to the basest of desires from each of them. In the night’s cool embrace, she felt a tingling sensation at her core, a desire she’d forgotten.
A young girl passed, perhaps 19, so full of life.
She walked with a bounce in her step, a mischievous smile upon her perfect face, her hair glowing in the light of the moon. She didn’t know how she knew but she just did. The girl had just left her boyfriend’s house after their first time together. She listened and could almost hear the wetness still dripping from between her legs; their combined juices soaking her panties.
The girl was so happy, so content, so naughty. She was in a hurry because she still lived at home and wasn’t supposed to be alone with him. Perhaps that’s part of the appeal, that forbidden act happening right beneath the noses of her oh-so-possessive parents while she was supposed to be studying at the library.
As surely as though she’s been there, in a flash, Tonya somehow knew exactly how it had happened.
They’d been sitting in the library, surrounded by musty smelling books when a buzzing sounded so audibly in the silence. His phone had rung and as he whispered into it, a smile had crossed his lips. He closed his book and hers, stuffed their papers in their respective bags and grabbed her hand, ushering out the door and the two blocks to his house.
His parents had just called. They were off to a movie, some foreign film fest, and wouldn’t be back for hours.
Perfect!
The young couple had talked about it for weeks, but simply didn’t have a place to make it happen. Well, here it was, the moment, the place, and time to spare and they were ready. The moment the door shut, he was all over her like a man possessed. She gave herself to him like she’d imagined so many times while she was alone in bed, running her fingers slowly between her swollen lips and imagining how he would feel inside of her. Discarded clothes littered the floor and up the steps on the way to his room.
His bed was covered with clothes, mostly clean, folded neatly by mommy and set there for him to put away. A single swipe of his powerful arm sent the clothes scattering as he picked her up and laid her down in the center of the bed.
Though only a year older than her, his expert hands removed what was left, her bra and panties and without pause she felt his tongue part her lips and slide inside of her. It was almost enough to make her cum right then and there. So much built up desire and now it was finally happening. The tip of his tongue flickered around her swollen clit as he alternated the rhythm to suck it gently between us lips. He parted her with a finger and slowly slid it inside, arching it up, caressing her g-spot.
That was all it took.
She let loose a wave of pleasure made corporeal and gushed all over his lips. Her juices were still dripping down his chin when she finally came back to earth and remembered what it was like to be on the ground. He smiled and as she began to apologize for the mess, his wet finger pressed to her lips and, with a shaking of his head, said all he needed to. “It’s ok,” he whispered. “I loved it.”
And with that, he was up on the bed, his hard cock jutting out, wanting so badly to feel her wrapped around him.
He started to climb between her legs and she stopped him, shook her head with a whispered ‘tsk tsk’ and threw him down on the bed and lowered her mouth to his member, kissing its head at first, using her hand to tease him, gripping the base of his beautiful cock as she caressed his balls with the other hand.
She stroked him up and down, slowly, teasingly, feeling him somehow grow even thicker and harder. He was close, she could tell but she wasn’t letting that happen just yet. She took her mouth away and looked into his eyes. He was tortured, his look asking what she was doing! “Don’t stop!” he said, louder than he’d meant to and then he realized they were alone and it was ok.
All that flirting made him want her just as much and she could picture him alone in his bedroom, stroking himself to her picture in last year’s yearbook.
“I want to make this last” she said. “We have hours, remember?”
He sighed as she realized she was right. He wasn’t alone and worried about someone suddenly entering his room, wanting him to do some chore. He didn’t have to hurry and with that, he relaxed.
She hopped on top of him, working her way to his waiting mouth. He saw what she wanted and, like most young men, was horrified at the idea that she’d want to kiss him after sucking on him but he let it go and did as she asked.
Their tongues playfully intertwined and he lost himself in her kiss. It was then that he felt a warm, wet, tingly sensation as she slowly lowered herself down on top of him. Her wetness caressed him as he disappeared inside of her. He looked down to catch the last of him slide inside and was almost overwhelmed at how wonderful it felt to finally be inside of her.
She felt better than he’d imagined, her tight, young pussy throbbing as she took all of him into her. She paused, feeling every inch of him and squeezed her muscles, milking him but not moving. Then, slowly, teasingly, she began to move.
Her hips moved her up a tiny bit and he saw himself covered in her juices. She was literally soaked, dripping down his cock and saturating the bed. She moved slowly, allowing him to slide in and out while he leaned down and took one nipple and then the other in turn into his mouth. He sucked gently, causing spasms of electricity to shoot throughout her body, each spasm ending at the exact place where his cock was inside her. It was as though they were connected both literally and metaphysically, perfectly in tune with one another.
She starts to cum again and as she climaxes, she looks into his eyes and he knows it’s ok. He explodes deep inside of her, feeling all that pent up desire shoot into her.
They collapse, panting softly and into each other’s arms, fulfilled for the moment and nap upon the sweat drenched sheets. He wakes before her, a mere few moments later, and they do it again.
Ah, too be young, Tonya thinks, and she is back to reality.
She looks around and the girl is long gone. The young one’s scent still lingers in her nostrils though.
She finds herself sitting at an outside table of a local café, a steaming cup of cappuccino in front of her but no knowledge of how she got there or even a hint as to how she’d ordered and paid for the coffee.
How did she know all of that?
There’s no question in her mind that that’s exactly how things had transpired. It’s not the feeling of fantasy at all but rather a surety as though she’d witnessed the event for herself.
She’d never really believed in psychics or any kind of extrasensory perception. She’s laughed at the thought in college as the phenomenon had been discussed briefly in a psychology class and even had gone so far as to mock a Gypsy woman at a county fair who’d professed to be able to read her future for a price.
Had she read the girl’s mind? Had she seen into the recent past and entered into the girl’s thoughts and memories? All at once, she knew it to be true. She sipped at her coffee and, as she crossed her legs, realized that the moment had brought more than just wonder. She was soaked too.
She left the table and entered the lonely café. The clerk was counting out the days receipts and another moved to the door to turn the sign from open to closed. She had just enough time, they said, to use the restroom before continuing on her journey. As she closed the door to the stall, her panties made an audible sound as the wet cloth pulled away from her swollen lips.
On the other side of the door, she could hear the clerks talking loudly and imagined them looking at their watches, counting the moments before this flustered looking woman would leave, allowing them to once again resume their own lives. She’d noticed that the one who turned the sign around had been handsome. About 6’0, dark, short, wavy hair and blue eyes, muscular in the way high school boys are who play sports. Without even meaning to, her hand had found that wetness and was now gently caressing her swollen clit. It felt so good. She was suddenly alive again. The memories of her deadbeat boyfriend were a million miles from that place.
The clerks were arguing now and it was the voice of the blue eyed boy that said: “Don’t worry about it man, I’ll lock up. You go do your thing. I’ll wait for that lady to come out.”
A jingle as the bells on the door clanged together and she knew the homely one had left the building. The sound of a deadbolt being thrown and footsteps getting a bit louder made her fingers move faster, imagining that he could hear her in there as she pleasured herself.
He paced back and forth for a few moments. Went to the phone and spoke to someone in a whisper and then the footsteps got louder again. She could see two shadows as his feet moved right in front of the door. He was standing there, silently.
Was he listening to her? Could he hear her wetness between her fingers as she slid one and then another inside of herself? The door opened a tiny bit and he peeked into the bathroom. Her hand stopped with two fingers in her swollen pussy.
Suddenly she was aware of her own musk in the air, the scent of sex, her scent, pheromones wafting from her core and moving on the drafts like the song of the sirens to the doomed sailors, to beckon him. In her haste, she’d forgotten to close the door to the stall. She looked up to see his eyes fixed on her hand, buried deep inside of her. He was transfixed and obviously aroused as was evident by the bulge slowly growing behind his stained apron in his drab uniform pants.
She felt so naughty, so exposed and so alive!
Before she meant to, she’d spoken: “How old are you?” She asked.
He started to speak but could not form words, cleared his throat and tried again.
“I’ll be 18 next week.” He said in a voice that cracked and sounded much younger before he’d cleared his throat.
Close enough, she thought.
“Do you like what you see?” she got up the nerve to ask.
“Yes ma’am” he stumbled.
It was then that she was suddenly aware of the ten years between them but she was not about to let that ruin this moment.
“Don’t call me ma’am. Makes me sound old.” She said.
“Do you want to see more?” She braved. With a nod, he turned around and walked out the door of the bathroom. She pulled herself together a bit and followed him out. He had stopped along the way to turn out the lights and was now lowering the blinds they used for the brunch crowd. One was missing, but with the sun down and streetlights not yet illuminated, she wasn’t worried about being seen.
She stood, leaning softly against the counter. It was made of polished hardwood, stained with the years of spilled coffee and worn by the movements of patrons but otherwise clean.
He walked toward her, slowly removing his apron and the top button of his pants. She wanted so badly to see that young cock and he obliged, whipping it out and showing it to her.
He was not the biggest thing she’d seen but what he lacked in experience he made up for in attitude and by no means small. He was mostly aroused already and she could tell he wanted her by the tiny glistening bead of pre-cum that had already begun to form on the tip of his cock.
She felt herself dropping to her knees without even meaning to and, as he walked up, her mouth engulfed his circumcised cock.
He easily slid down her throat as she took all of him inside her wet, waiting mouth.
This surprised her as she’d never really been one to enjoy giving head but, for reasons known only to her libido, she wanted this cock in her throat.
She sucked him with a desire she hadn’t felt in ages, cupping his balls with her other hand, surprised to find they were freshly shaved, so unlike her man at home who preferred to go au natural. He moaned as she took all of him in her mouth, moving faster now and, before she knew it, her finger had moved from his cupped balls to arch out and press his perineum, pressing gently and moving closer to his virgin asshole.
As she wiggled a finger into it, he let go. His moans turned into a scream of pleasure and, in less than a minute, he was gushing down her throat. Like the good little slut she was becoming, she swallowed every ounce.
She found herself disappointed and elated at the same time. She’d hoped to echo the experience of the girl on the street and feel him cum inside of her. She hadn’t bothered to continue with her birth control pills since she couldn’t remember the last time her man had showed any interested, but she wanted that so badly.
As she looked up, she saw his face had changed. He was scared and unsure of what to do next. He had that deer-in-the-headlights look where she was sure he’d bolt at any moment and would have already if only he wasn’t the one with the keys.
“It’s ok” she said soothingly. “I wanted that, believe me.”
His face didn’t change. He just sat there, in shock it seemed.
“I’ve never…” he started to say and then his voice trailed off.
He backed up and sat down heavily at one of the inside café tables, leaving her on her knees near the counter.
She suddenly felt rather foolish, sitting here on the floor, the taste of the ocean in her mouth and this frightened boy a few feet away. What was she thinking? He’s not even legal!
It was then that the seriousness of the occasion hit her. She stood up, wiped her mouth with one of the nearby napkins, grabbed her bag and headed towards the door. She looked back once to see what he’d do or say and it was just as though he were still lost in his own pleasure. He still stared at the place she had been, his mind processing what had just happened.
She took her moment and felt the door close behind her.
At that moment, the streetlights came on and she found herself bathed in harsh, unflattering light. She was sure it was only the guilt talking but she was sure everyone she passed on the street knew she she’d done and judged her for it.
He was just a kid! Their accusing glares seemed to say. How could you?
But they didn’t know. It was just her conscience playing tricks on her.
From a million miles away she heard a familiar tune. She listened to the tiny notes for a full minute before realizing why it was so familiar: it was her cell phone ringing insistently in her purse.
She reached in and took it out just in time to catch her friend Patti before the phone went to voicemail.
“Mushi mushi” she answered. It had been her and Patti’s little joke ever since they’d seen “Memoirs of a Geisha.” Even though they never actually said it in the film, Tonya knew that was how they answered the phone in Japan and thought it was rather amusing.
“Where the hell are you Tonya?” Patti asked.
“I’m on my way. I had to make a quick stop but I’ll be there, keep your skirt on!” Tonya replied.
“You said that two hours ago!”
Had it really been that long since she’d told Patti she was coming by? I guess it’s true what they say, time really does fly when you’re having… “I’m right around the corner. I’ve got news to tell.”
She held the phone away from her ear because Patti, her friend for longer than she could remember, had just screamed in delight, always having been one to relish the juicy bit of gossip or scandal.
Tonya closed the phone and picked up the pace, walking more briskly now towards Patti’s house. As she walked faster she could feel the wetness dripping down her leg. She was still so aroused, remembering what had just happened and the pleasure overwhelmed the guilt, causing a sly smile to break out on her face. That boy would probably be telling his grandsons about the time some crazy stranger took advantage of him a hundred years from now. She liked the idea of being immortalized in his story, having been made into a perfect ten, a goddess, a supermodel as she just knew boys told stories about the fish they caught and the girls they laid with just a wee bit of exaggeration to them.
She passed others on the street and relished the idea that perhaps some of them could use their own innate psychic abilities to relive her last few moments. She thought about them getting turned on by her exploits and found she was even more aroused. As she turned a corner she looked up to see the smiling and slightly mischievous face of her friend waiting for her on the porch of her house with that look of “Well!” on her face.
“Let’s go inside, I’ll tell you everything.”
“You’d better!” Patti urged.
“I’ve got to use your bathroom first though.” Tonya stated, matter-of-factly, causing a sigh and look of frustration to come out of her friend’s mouth.
As she ducked into the small restroom and slid the door closed she heard Patti walk off towards the kitchen, open the fridge, take out a couple of bottles that noisily clanked together and plop down on the couch to turn on the T.V. and wait.
As Tonya slid her pants to the ground, she reached down to finish what she’d started at the café, sliding her fingers up and down her swollen lips, squeezing out a quick but powerful orgasm. Ah, she thought, I needed that.
She cleaned up and flushed down the evidence, washed her hands and gargled with some of Patti’s mouthwash and opened the door, easing down next to her friend who now pretended not to care in the least bit about whatever Tonya had to say.
“Soooo…” Tonya said over the game show that was playing at an exaggerated volume on the big screen T.V.
“Who was Sacajawea?” Yelled her friend, whose answer was echoed by the player with the button in his hand.
“Ahem!” Tonya cleared her throat, competing with the volume of the television.
“Oh yeah, sorry” said Patti, while slowly lowering the volume on the remote. “What’s up?”
“I just blew a total stranger.” Tonya admitted, causing Patti’s mouth to drop open in a look not unlike the one she’d made during the act itself.
Patti was a good girl, for the most part. It didn’t take a whole lot to embarrass her since she’d really only had a couple of drunken gropes before she met the man of her dreams who, as tradition had it in her family, would be her first and only sexual experience.
“You what?!” gasped Patti, appalled that anyone would do something so base while involved in a relationship.
As she began to get into the story, she could see Patti squirming in her seat. Though she pretended to be a prim and proper, Tonya could tell she was relishing in the vicarious thrill that can only come from the sexual exploits of others. She crossed and uncrossed her legs a few too many times for it to be a coincidence and finally excused herself to what she cutely called ‘the little girl’s room.’ While she was in there, and for what seemed a long time, Tonya wondered if she was doing what she’d done there just a few moments before.
She pictured Patti playing with herself and it started to get her in the mood again, but she pushed those feelings down. They were friends and that was all they’d ever be. Not that Patti wasn’t attractive, she is, sort of.” If I were a guy,’ Tonya mused, “I’d probably be interested but I’m not so I’m not.
Patti had one of those next door girl kind of looks. Mousy brown hair and deep blue eyes, a bit of a tomboy and made so much more so by the fact that she had more brothers than most people have underwear. She came from a very proper Mormon family where birth control meant nothing at all and she got lost in the shuffle between a few sisters and more than a few brothers.
As one of the middle kids, she was ignored most of the time and though she tried to act out, it just wasn’t in her nature. As an adult, she’d married a nice Mormon boy and he died in a car accident not long after. She’s lived in the house where they once were together but there’s very little left of him now, so many years later.
They’d been friends for years and Tonya had never really seen her as a sexual person. She just didn’t seem interested in it. If asked to rate a list of ten most-important things in life, Patti wouldn’t even think of putting sex in that list.
They’d gone out dancing and to bars (she wasn’t really part of the cult anymore) and although she could throw back a beer or seven, Tonya had never even seen a guy hit on her much less her show any interest in anyone else. She just sort of became a part of the wallpaper, just like she’d been as a kid. She wasn’t really noticed much by anyone so it wasn’t really all that much of a surprise when she materialized on the couch again while Tonya was lost in thought.
“You are SUCH a slut!” she stated with a huge grin on her face.
“Well,” Tonya replied “ a girl’s got to have a hobby.”
The old friends both erupted in laughter and any tension that had been created by the lateness seemed to have been forgotten.
“Everything come out alright?” Tonya joked, commenting on the length of time Patti had been in the bathroom and, just for a second, she blushed. Tonya wasn’t sure if it was because of jealousy for what she’d done and Patti could never bring herself to do or because she’d been busted having pleasured herself to the sordid story.
She was fairly sure it was the first one though because, just like so many other things Tonya could just NOT picture her doing, masturbation just did not seem to be her style.
To be continued…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/9oyfa4/awakenings_erotica