Wham! Bam! Thank you Man!

Wham! Bam! Thank you Man!

Wham Bam Man

 

Sylvie and I sat in the bleachers watching our favorite football player. Tomorrow was the big game and the whole college was buzzing about Erik. He was the key player on our team, but neither of us cared. We were there to ogle his bulging, rippling muscles and laugh amongst ourselves.

Several others from our sorority joined with Laura leading the pack,

“I knew you two were keeping a secret hideout,” she glared at us and turned her gaze toward the players as they wandered from the field. Her search turned to Erik and she laughed,

“Sharsies!”

Just then, Erik passed our gang and tossed me a wink saying,

“Great workout. Were gonna kick their asses tomorrow. Like what ya see?”

All of us nodded and giggled inanely.

“Shana,” he said, singling me out, “I gotta hit the shower. Come with?”

His eyes were locked on mine and there was no amusement to be found.

“Uh, okay.” I croaked with my eyes bulging wide.

The girls rushed me like linebackers, screaming “He knows you?”

With a grin that nearly swallowed my face, I replied, “Guess so,” with a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh! Don’t play coy with me,” Laura howled, “You have been hiding out here for a reason, sister! You want his body!”

“And the feeling is mutual from what I can tell,” Melinda laughed softly.

“Melinda,” I cried, “This from sister shy mouse?”

She turned her eyes to the ground staring hard at her feet.

“Quick,” Linda hissed, “He’s leaving! You go and we’ll follow!”

“You will,” I asked incredulously.

“Hell yeah,” she replied staunchly, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Go!”

I turned on my heel and started toward the locker room as Erik risked a peek over his shoulder. Once inside, the girls scattered to hide, I presumed to listen in, when Sylvie shoved me into the shower room and disappeared.

Hearing my footsteps, Erik turned with a Cheshire cat grin asking, “Like what you see now?”

I stood frozen with my eyes locked on his naked body and fully erect manhood until he grabbed my hand and pulled me in. He kissed me dizzy and unbuttoned my blouse.

“Go out with me Friday,” he ordered more than requested.

With brevity I didn’t feel yet I looked into his steel-grey eyes and said,

“Well, I don’t know. I need a sample of what’s to come. Will the date be worth my time?”

His lips turned up in an evil grin. Without a word, he stripped my clothes off and we fucked in the shower. We were soaping each other playfully when my sorority sisters entered, naked as well.

“Laura headed the pack as always and whispered provocatively,

“Sharsies.”

She pounced on Erik and the rest followed suit. At that moment, I had a crucial choice to make. I thrust my hips against Erik’s hard thighs and devoured his lips saying,

“Let’s play.”

Erik adopted a confused grin that made me feel empowered, bold and brazen. Nothing had ever startled or shaken him before. He always seemed the epitome of control.

I grasped his shoulders in tandem with Sylvie pushing him to the floor. We all got a taste and then took everything he had to give. I admired his firm length in my grasp. A lesser man would have been fearful and flaccid at being attacked by so many girls at once. Erik didn’t flinch.

He bucked as we ground, his fingers snaked into my molten pussy while my lips moved to his stiff cock. I sucked, kissed and licked while even the shyest of my sisters touched, stroked and nipped until we all lay in a sodden, satisfied heap on the shower floor.

I lay in his arms smiling to myself and whispered, “Date? Really? Ya think you can handle it?”

Erik let go an uproarious laugh and nodded affirmatively. With that, we all borrowed his tiny towel, dried and dressed. As I turned away, I mouthed, “Call me!”

We left him there, still in an exhausted heap, as we returned to the locker room.

In a final, brazen moment of glee, I opened the shower room door and yelled,

“Wham bam! Thank you man!”

We filed out with my words echoing in the empty shower, mingling with with his laughter. It was a sound I enjoyed immensely.

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
© November 24, 2015 – 10:32 AM – All Rights Reserved

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Slow Burn

Slow Burn

 

Slow Burn2

It is too hard to think of when my slow burn began, too hard to focus on fact while I lay next to you letting thoughts of you and me, secret thoughts of us, drift into and out of my consciousness.

Wrapped into your embrace, I am musing silently beneath the star filled sky. It is that amazing time in the early morning, far before the garish sun is near to claiming the night; where I can close my eyes and inhale you… breathe you in with all of my senses. It is that perfect hour where I can let myself walk the too-thin line between anxious thought and deep, dark emotion.

I lay there, lazily dreaming, lost somewhere between salacious desire and intense, raw-emotion, the place I never dare to approach in my waking world. But the breeze brushes over me gently and your fingers run slowly up and down my back, as I realized that you are lost in your own world of half-asleep thought.

I watch you, here in the darkness, conflicting features crossing your face, while you think you’re most personal thoughts, believing that you are safe in the night, unaware that I am taking in everything. Every crease around your beautiful eyes, soft smiles that come and go, the occasional frown that saddens your expression, and I realize that I have the desire to take all of your worries from you, but wonder if I have the ability.

I lay back on the blanket you brought for us and stretch languorously. Finding myself too close to my own fearful thoughts, a shiver runs down my spine, so I hold you a little more tightly to me, snuggle into you more closely, and close my eyes as I finally close the door on lingering fears; fears that you are fast-eclipsing here, in my heart.

It is the one place I dare not examine too closely, but then I remember that you have always been twenty-five kinds of patient with me. I smile to myself as I gingerly touch my lips to your cheek, dreamily picturing the day you asked me out, remembering how I stammered and stumbled nervously in all of my uncertainty;  knowing how long I have been wanting you but paralyzed in the breadth and depth of my residual pain.

I was overwhelmed by your confidence and larger than life personality then, and I picture your rugged handsomeness on that day.

“Have coffee with me,” you said as you approached me.

I scanned the spaces beside and behind me, wondering if you were actually addressing me. I stood rooted to one spot, rummaging through any number of replies that I might have choked out, but my still-wounded heart leapt into my throat so I just stood there, mute in your gaze.

“Never mind,” you stated firmly, “Make it adult beverages, girl. Seems like you could use it.”

I stammered something unintelligible which thankfully, you did not hear.

“Pick you up at eight,” you said, over your shoulder as you turned to walk away, but then quickly turned to flash a grin at me that crinkled your eyes, and I was hooked. I was completely and utterly taken, and then I knew… this is where my slow burn began.

Unaware that you have been watching me this night, I am completely unguarded in re-experiencing you, and this is where your lips meet mine, startling me out of that not-so-long-ago moment. I drag my errant thoughts back to the present, into the here and now of you, into the profoundly sexual kiss that is steadily heating up.

Slowly, you let me come to you, and I returned your passion two-fold as I let you part my lips. Your hand lightly cups the soft, warm globes beneath you as you graze my unexposed nipple with just one finger. You stroke me tentatively through the fabric of my blouse, and deepen the kiss gently, yet firmly demanding of me, not making any sudden moves but deliberately exploring me with maddening slowness.

You entwined your tongue with mine and press deeper, forcing my lips and mouth open to you. Knowing how much I want you, you let me know that you will determine how this goes.

You slow my actions with a gentle hand to my shoulder and will not give in to my urgency. Ever so slowly, you knead my taut breasts squeezing my nipples slightly as you undo my buttons, all without ever breaking our kiss.

Your hands are gently seeking, feeling, softly rubbing and stroking until you suddenly stand and pull me to my feet. With my body pressed full-length against you, locked in your muscular embrace, you loosen your grip slightly to remove the last of my clothing and yours.

Not letting go for a second, you stroke my long hair and move your hand to caress my cheek. You press your steel-hard need between my legs. Your cock is my scabbard, springing to life from its dark patch of hair.

I am aching for you to fill me, aching for you to make this slow burn blaze into unrestrained passion. But you lift me gently into your arms to gingerly lay me down upon the blanket and, in so-doing, lay waste to my inhibitions; the content of my wounded soul.

As you lay atop me with your firm, broad chest pinning me down, you crush me to you with your devilish eyes locked on mine, almost daring me to utter a word of protest, but I cannot.

Instead, I wrap my legs around you, trying to pull you closer still, finally let me melt into you. I give into the mêlée of riotous emotion that only you can make me feel. Your every touch is searing white-hot flames upon my skin, branding me your own.

l let you trail fire down the length of me, as you drag your fingertips down my stomach, past my abdomen to find the nexus of me and I cry out into the night at just the tips of your fingers touching me there.

Sizzling, electric-heat shocks me, leaping from synapse to synapse, culminating in the core of my womanhood while this slow burn threatens to consume me; to incinerate my very soul and I am suddenly assailed with terror.

I am unprepared to feel this deeply and intensely, ill-equipped to fall face-first and headlong into the all-consuming fire that constantly torments my waking and dreaming hours. I am writhing, squirming and pushing; fighting you, fighting me, and then begin begging you,

“Stop! Wait! Stop! Please! Please stop!”

But you do not let me go, will not let me run. Knowing that you are plenty strong enough to hold me down, you just hold me gently in your firm grip. Again, you pull me to you hard, letting me panic, writhe, and fight to push you away until my terror gives way to tears.

I am weeping in silence, tears streaking down my face, while you hold me tighter than you ever have, murmuring loving words into my ear, letting me retreat and die, to be reborn into your arms; the girl all but gone and a woman in her place.

Then finally, we both move, kissing frantically, wrapping ourselves around each other, rolling over and over again, both of us finding “our rhythm.” Then you push up from the ground to kneel between my thighs while lightly fondling my clitoris. You stroke me softly there with the full, firm length of you deep inside of me. You continue your sweet, sensuous torment until my breathing comes fast and ragged.

You begin a quicker rhythm, slamming into me hard and fast, as you stroke my most intimate secrets. I feel the slow burn become tumultuous as both of us push harder and faster. My hips meet yours, matching you, thrust for frenzied thrust, our crescendo building hotter, wilder, your fingers stroking my sensitized womanhood while you fill me with your steel-hard length, your unrelenting girth impaling me and letting my orgasm build.

Soft whimpers and longing moans escape me as I am twisting, thrusting, and aching to explode with you just as your deep, guttural growl fills the air, matching my soft scream that splits the stillness of this night. Finally, I let myself fall into our mutual fulmination, into flames that are borne of you and me. Our simultaneous orgasm rocks us through and through.

Then, at last, I am lost in you; in feeling your pulsing member sheathed within my hot wetness while I contract almost violently around you. I let our torrential lust and love consume me as you fall into my arms. I so love the culmination and completion that is you… and me… that is us… wholly and only us… and just the thought sets me back on a slow burn.

 

By Wildfire8470
© copyright 2013-05-09 15:06:06 UTC – All Rights Reserved© copyright 2014-01-20 07:09:46 - All Rights Reserved

At His Insistence

At His Insistence

At His Insistence

Lydia wasn’t sure why she was upset. She and John had dated for three years, but were only married three short months. They had their first really ugly fight tonight and she stared for a moment wondering how he could sleep so soundly after that.

He had always brought up the topic of being the “Hero” in a Hero sandwich and she had always laughed it off with a toss of her long, blonde hair, “Go ahead,” she giggled at his silliness, “You keep dreaming!”

Now standing in the moonlight, not curled up with her love like every night before, Lydia didn’t want to think that the romance had left their marriage so quickly, or of how he could let it go and insist on violating their vows instead of fight for her.

Peering at him murderously, she watched him toss once and settle. She lifted the sheet before her wanting to wrap it around his neck. Then she remembered Therese and decided to let John have it almost all his way.

Grinning widely, Lydia tiptoed from the room and scurried into the den. Therese had been her lesbian lover for several college months. Yes, it’s late, she reasoned, but Therese said that if I ever needed anything… She padded back to bolt the door and lifted the receiver.

To her surprise, Therese answered with music and voices surrounding her, “Donald, I told you it’s 75th street,” she admonished.

“Ahhh, this isn’t Donald,” she replied uncertainly.

“Oh my God! This is! It can’t be! Is it?”

“Hi Therese, this is Lydia,” she smiled.

“Lydia,” Therese screamed, “How the heck are? Where are? Wait! I’m having a bash! You must come!”

“Well I’ll be,” Lydia whispered excitedly, “I’m a few blocks away!”

Therese laughed from her belly, “Lydia, you haven’t changed a bit! Get your fine ass over here!”

Lydia stumbled, looking back at the door, “I… I don’t know, T.  I need to talk to… well really, I need to ask for a HUGE favor,” she whispered feeling embarrassed.”

“Okay, I get it. Where is asshole?”

“Asleep,” Lydia whispered more quietly.

“Come. Stay for a drink or two and I’ll carve some private time away from these old pervs,” she laughed with a slightly more serious edge now.

“How formal is the bash?”

“Street clothes honey. Just stick on jeans and jam on over.”

“What if he wakes up,” Lydia asked as though she hadn’t sneaked out of her parents’ house a million times as a girl.

“Tell him you need a pregnancy test from the all night store. That’ll scare the hell out of him.”

“Right now, I don’t think that would be good… or maybe it would,” Lydia pondered the thought wickedly.

“Never mind that! Just come now,” Therese implored.

“Okay, girl. Give me your address and I’ll see ya in a few.”

Lydia stepped into the bathroom with shirt, jeans and tennis shoes in hand. She donned the clothes and ran a brush through her hair. Feeling precarious without a bra, she stepped from the bathroom and remembered her purse next to the bed.

Silently cursing herself, she padded into the bedroom and checked for the items, then retrieved the sheet and placed it gently at the foot of the bed.

John awoke..

“Babe, you up,” he asked sleepily.

She stood paralyzed for a second, not knowing how to answer and finally lied, “Yea, um, can’t sleep. Gonna go read for a bit.”

John turned over and promptly fell back asleep. Lydia rolled her eyes in the darkness thinking, I should have strangled him when I had the chance.

Lydia finally turned the keys in the ignition and was on her way. She wasn’t sure she had the guts to follow through, or even ask Therese about her plan, but she felt better already. Therese would have some kind words or advice, and definitely hard liquor!

The two hugged in the doorway as if no time had passed. Lydia worried that she hadn’t seen her friend since the wedding, but her worries had been pointless.

Therese put a drink in her hand and introduced her to the crowd, followed by “We need some private time. You all know the rules. Don’t do anything I can get arrested for, including you, Donald. No water-ballooning people on the sidewalk!”

She cast him an evil grin and steered Lydia into a bedroom, “Okay, girlie, what’s up?”

“My head has been spinning since last night. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Therese pushed Lydia’s drink to her mouth saying, “Don’t worry. Drink up and we’ll catch up.”

“But your party,” she protested.

“Don’t worry, Lyd. Those pervs can go all night. Just take a minute and catch your breath. Then tell me what the dipshit did to you,” she said with a slight “I told you so” tone.

“Well, remember back when I was dating John? I told you he used to tease me about getting it on with one girl on top and another on the bottom?”

“Oh Lydia,” she offered sympathetically, “He didn’t.”

“Not yet,” she rolled her eyes still thinking of strangling him, “but he insists that he wants to.”

Therese sat her drink down hard saying, “But your married, for Christ sake!”

Therese left the room for a moment and returned with a bottle. “Glasses be damned,” she said, “This goes beyond hurt feelings. This calls for hard drinking.”

With that, she lifted the bottle and then handed it to Lydia. They passed the bottle back and forth in long moments of silence until they both spoke at once. Therese deferred and caught Lydia as she collapsed in tears.

As her friend’s sobs subsided, Therese asked, “So what are we going to do about him?”

Lydia lifted her tear-stained face, “We,” she asked.

“Yes. We,” she said angrily, “I knew I should have tried to talk you out of that marriage.”

“Some marriage,” Lydia said softly as she looked at the nearly empty bottle in her hands, “Last swig. You want,” she asked.

“Drink up, Lyd. Be right back.” Again she exited and reappeared with two bottles this time.

Lydia spoke up softly, “I’ve really missed you, T. I knew you and John didn’t get along.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Stuff happens.”

“You can say that again,” Lydia frowned.

“Well,” Therese hedged for a moment gauging Lydia’s mental stamina, “I know you’ve had some thoughts on this. I guess, the question is, do you want to stay married to jerk-face?” She tugged the lid from the bottle and took a huge drink.

Lydia took a sip and sat staring at the floor while she thought, then lifted her eyes and asked, “What marriage? This isn’t a marriage.”

“Next question,” Therese said gently, “What’s the HUGE favor?”

“Ummm, well, you remember when we… I mean you and I were…” Lydia’s voice trailed off.

“Were lovers?” Therese asked point-blank, “Do I remember when we were lesbian lovers,” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, that,” Lydia whispered.

“That what,” Therese asked, coaxing her to say the words she never could back in college.

“Okay,” Lydia yelled finally losing her cool, “Yes! Back when we were lesbian lovers! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

Therese grinned as silence befell the apartment and Lydia cracked open the door. All party-goers were gathered silently outside. Therese laughed waving everyone away with a sweep of her delicate hand. She admonished all gently and told them to go play awhile longer, explaining that we would be out in a few minutes. She fell back on the bed kicking her feet while Lydia stumbled trying to reach her.

She managed to get to the bed and lay back gingerly closing her eyes. She was silently thanking God that the bed wasn’t spinning when Therese sat up, tapped her shoulder and said, “Wait just a second, Lyd. HUGE favor, remember?”

With a groan, Lydia forced herself upright again. Being fairly certain that she couldn’t suffer more embarrassment than she already had, Lydia broached her plan to Therese. Part way in, she got lost in memories she had thought long forgotten. “Do you remember how intense we were then? It was like the whole world fell away and there was only you and me.”

“I remember,” Therese whispered, “I still miss it… us.”

“Me too, sometimes,” Lydia confessed.

After several moments of silence, Lydia finally spilled her plan and waited for whatever the reaction would be.

With both being the epitome of drunkenness now, Therese recounted the plan as simplistically as she could, “So let’s see. We plan a night at your house, make shithead think he’s gonna get a Hero sandwich and ignore him until we dump him off the bed. He storms out mad as hell. Then we come back here and take our time together.”

“It’s okay to say no, T. I want to hurt him the way he’s hurt me, but I do miss us. I don’t think we got a fair chance back in college.”

“Then I have only one question for you,” Therese whispered.

Lydia looked into her eyes and quietly asked, “What?”

Therese took another long drink and said, “Want to really do some damage? Let’s film it. We can send him a copy every year when it was supposed to be your anniversary!”

“Perfection,” Lydia screamed, Thank you, T! Thank you!”

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2014-04-28 11:06:15 UTC – All Rights Reserved

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