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Archive-name: Affairs/fanfck.txt

Archive-author: Diamond

Archive-title: Fantasy Fuck

Breakfast is over...your husband is off to work, and the

kids have left for school. You sit quietly at the kitchen

table finishing the last cup from the coffee

pot...daydreaming about nothing in particular...getting

ready to start another weekday.

The doorbell rings once, startling you from your morning

trance. You rise slowly from the table, wondering who it

might be. As you walk from the kitchen to the front door you

think "what a sight I am, hair all mussed, in an old robe

and worn slippers...well the hell with it, whoever it is

they probably don't look much better than I do."

Quickly you run your hands through your hair and down the

front of your robe, smoothing out the wrinkles as best you

can. Standing on your tip toes you peek through the security

viewer in the door. You can see the head and shoulders of a

man in a cap and workshirt. He apppears to be in his mid to

late thirties, with sandy blond hair peeking out from around

his cap.

You open the door slightly, and peering around the edge you

say "Yes?"

You can see more of him now...a strong, atheletic, tall man

carrying a toolbox in his right hand.

"You called about your refrigerator?" he says in a deep, but

soft baritone.

You remember your call to the appliance store in town

yesterday, and their promise to send someone to look at your

balky ice maker.

"Yes, I did, come in, please".

You open the door to let him in, then close it behind him.

"The ice doesn't work all the time, and we're

expecting company this weekend""

Just inside the door he places his tool box on the flooor

and turns to face you. His deep, hazel/green eyes meet

yours. You stand not moving under his unblinking gaze, and a

tremor of fear, or is it excitement, quivers along your

spine. For what seems an eternity neither of you speaks or

moves. You are riveted in place by his eyes. They seem to

reach out and hold you immobile, like a fawn caught in the

headlights of a speeding car.

He doesn't move, or speak. His eyes seem to see right into

your soul, and you desperately want to say something to

break the spell...but you can't find your voice. Something

primal in the depths of your being doesn't want to move or

speak, something strong and insistent, caged and yearning

for the light pushes its way up through your stomach like a

white fire. You stand unmoving, trembling, half afraid.

You watch helplessly as his hands reach for you. They are

strong, rough hands...a workingman's hands, but strangely

graceful in their movements.Slowly, one button at a time, he

unbuttons your robe. You feel on the edge of panic, but the

growing white fire in your belly holds you firmly, and

quietly, in place.

He pushes the robe gently off your shoulders, and it falls

silently, forgotten, to the floor.

Your knees are turning to water, and the trembling along

your spine is moving in waves. Gently he places his hands on

your shoulders and turns you around with your back to him.

His hands move softly to your hips, and with one hand on

your stomach backs you toward him, while the other lifts

your teddy over your head.

His hand on your stomach seems to spread the fire upward,

and for a moment you can't catch your breath. Gently his

hands move upward to caress your erect nipples. and after a

moment, downward across your stomach. By now, your will to

resist is are consumed by an animal need so

strong that it's almost more frightening than this man, this

stranger. As he holds you against his body, you can feel his

nakedness against your back. Between your buttocks you feel

his erect penis pulsing gently, insistently.

He turns you around. For the first time you see his rock

hard body. The muscles of his stomach lie beneath his skin

like a washboard. His belly is covered by fine blond hair.

and his biceps ripple when he moves his arms. His tiny,

erect nipples point their desire at you, and as your nipples

touch his chest you totter on the edge of an orgasm.

In one fluid motion he reaches an arm beneath your buttocks

and another behind your back, and lowers you to the floor.

His hands begin to search every inch of your exposed body,

touching, caressing, fondling. Their rough texture on your

soft skin belies their gentleness. slowly his right hand

finds your clitoris and begins a gentle stroking which sends

waves of sensation coursing into your trembling belly. You

close your eyes, giving yourself over completely to the

sensations, feeling your mushrooming desire.

Your sensations gradually grow in intensity as the rhythm of

his hand on your clitoris grows ever faster. Suddenly he

stops, and you feel him move down toward your mons. He parts

your thighs and with a start of disappointment you feel him

move between them. Before you can open your eyes, you feel

the insistent pressure of his hand replaced by a warm, wet,

raspy sensation around your vagina, which moves slowly

upward toward your hot clitoris. As his wet tongue rasps

gently across it's inflamed head you feel your belly explode

in orgasm.

As you writhe in helpless rapture his stroking tongue guides

you from peak to peak, until you think there can't possibly

be any more. But moment after moment he caries you higher

until you believe you'll die. Finally, you collapse, beyond

sensation, floating on a soft carpet in a warm sea. You lie

exhausted, but yearning for more.

The stroking of his tongue subsides to a warm caress which

adds a gentle pink haze to your dream like state. Then,

gradually you feel his tongue become more insistent, and

once again, and yet again, you explode in ecstasy. Time

after countless time you follow this stranger into

sensations you never imagined possible, and after each he

gives you an eternity of quiet caressing to savor the


Finally, his tongue abandons your clitoris, and begins a

march across your belly. Nibbling, stroking, sucking, he

moves up to your full breasts. You feel his warm, wet tongue

gently circling your erect and sensitive nipples, first one,

and then the other, as sensation shoots from their tips to

the pit of your stomach. As he moves along your body,

hovering just above it, you feel his penis, erect, inflamed,

pressing into your thighs, and then your stomach, pulsing

gently up and down. You feel his breath panting on your

neck, and the extinguished flame of your desire rises again

from the ashes.

You become aware of the tip of his penis pushing gently at

the entrance to your vagina, as he sucks gently on the skin

of your shoulders. Your hands move along his back, stroking

the hard ribbons of muscle beneath his skin. You feel his

body begin to thrust at your vaginal entrance, and you

sense his need through the insistence of his movements. Your

hands run down his back and grip his iron hard buttocks, and

you pull gently, encouraging his joining with you. As he

feels your hands pulling him firmly toward you, he thrusts

forward, and your well lubricated vagina engulfs his

engorged penis. You both gasp with pleasure at the


His penis begins to stroke rhythmically, and with each

pistoning movement he seems to fill you completely. His body

is very strong, and his desire for you is intense, but his

movement is surprisingly gentle. This strong, hard man is

making love to you, and the sudden realization of it brings

on an orgasmic release which is as unexpected as it is

pleasureable. You rock together in a rhythm as old as time,

as waves of pleasure on the physical plane, and joy on the

spiritual plane wash over you both.

As your orgasm subsides into a warm glow, his thrusting

grows more gentle, virtually stoping at times.

Still he moves in and out, almost helplessly. Each gentle

thrust of his hips places his body deep inside yours. The

simple pleasure of being joined rivals the intensity of the

other sensations you have created together. You have no

sense of time, or place, only the joining, the oneness.

You can feel beneath the tightness of his back muscles a

growing need, an insistence, which is as much a part of his

primal being as the white hot fire in your belly is of

yours. You can sense in him a need to climax, to finish the

act, to leave part of himself inside you. You feel this need

building with every pistoning of his massively erect penis,

with every thrust of his hips. You can feel his buttocks

clenching with increasing desperation as he nears his

completion. As you feel this need, you want to join him

fully. His increasingly powerful thrusts are greated with

your own ever more powerful upthrusts as you strive together

to join in this most human of acts. You pound together,

stripped of intellect, reduced to primitive animals,

grunting, panting, sweat intermingling, senseless, inflamed

, and desperately reaching for each other. In a moment his

thrusting becomes beyond his control. You open yourself

totally pressing upward to meet his downward plunges until

he moans, tortured, and begins to stiffen with the

approaching climax. Your own final orgasm grips you at the

moment you feel his completion, and you hold him desperately

with every muscle in your body. His back arches violently,

and between your sweaty thighs, deep in the recesses of your

clutching vagina, you feel him begin to throb.With each

throb in your vagina, you hear him gasp, and you feel his

hot semen pour out of you, running down the crack between

your buttocks. With each thrust it flows around his

pistoning penis and gushes out. A half dozen times he fills

your overflowing vagina, and each time his huge cock forces

it out onto your buttocks. Its scalding wash inflames your

final explosion, and you shudder together in your final

release. In a last moment of conscious thought before you

collapse together you feel a completeness you've never

imagined possible before.

After some time, you couldn't say how long, you feel his

lips brush your cheek. Without a word he stands up, pulls on

his clothes, picks up his tools, and quietly leaves.

For a long time afterward you lie alone on your livingroom

floor, wondering at your lack of remorse, and pleasuring in

the warm afterglo. "We never said a word" you think. And as

you think about it you realize that the silence, the

anonimity, made it alright. "I'm still married, I still have

the kids, I still love my husband...I'm ok." And you realize

that you've gained something precious...a secret memory to

place in that absolutely private place inside, never to be

forgotton, or repeated.


July, 1992


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