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Archive-name: Dreams/fantdec.txt

Archive-author: Mark A. Foster

Archive-title: December Fantasy, A


    It's early December; you're at my house.  We've just finished a quiet

lunch; you're on your way back to work.  You put away your lunch things, stop

in the bathroom and give your hair a quick brush.  We walk down the hall; you

stop at the head of the stairs to look out the window.  I come up behind you

and put my arms around your waist, hug you close to me.  You gaze at the

blanket of snow on the ground and murmur, "It's lovely.  We never did...."

Your moist breath frosts the window pane.  Your voice trails off.

    "I know, we never did.  Never enough time.  In a hurry?"

    "Make me late?"

    I slide my hands up from your waist and caress your breasts lightly

through your sweater.  You arch your back, pressing your rapidly erecting

nipples against my palms.  I feel the sweater catching on the lace of your

bra.  Your purse and lunch bag hit the floor with a dull thud; you cup your

hands over mine and press them hard against your breasts.  I bend down

slightly, to nuzzle your neck.  The faint perfume of your hair tickles my

nose; the scent of soft, clean skin excites me.  I feel myself starting to

harden.  You press back against my hips, wriggling to center my hardening cock

in the crack of your ass.  You drop your hands, reach behind and grab my hips,

pull me hard against you.  You whisper, "I can feel your heat."

    My hands speak my answer, massaging your breasts through your sweater. I

cup and release, dragging the knit fabric across the lace that covers your

nipples, catching the erecting buds between finger and thumb.  I pinch them

lightly, drawing them out, teasing them to full erection.  I move forward with

my lips, nibbling along your neck, rising up to your chin.  Your breath is

soft and sweet, and as warm as a spring afternoon.  Our lips meet, catch, and

join together.  Your honey sweet tongue slips into my mouth, teasing at my

teeth, fencing with my tongue.  My consciousness starts to slide away as my

being centers on the sensations of your body.

    I slide my hands down your breasts and torso, fingers counting ribs, until

my fingertips stutter across the waistband of your skirt. I press firmly

against your hips as my hands descend, tracing a path down your thighs.  I

draw my hands up again, the fabric of the skirt bunching and riding up your

thighs as my hands journey in toward your groin.  I cup your mons with both

hands and massage it gently through the cloth.  "I can feel your heat, too."

I release the skirt, hear the soft swish as the cloth slides across your skin.

    I pull your sweater free of your skirt and my hands start their slow

journey upward, sliding between sweater and skin.  My fingers pause; I caress

your navel with my fingertips, luxuriating in the feel of the satin of your

skin under my hands again.  I linger for only a moment, then resume my search.

Up further, and I find the fabric of your bra, drawn tight across your chest

by your arched back and jutting breasts.  I draw my fingers along the line of

fabric, my hands brushing against the underside of your breasts.  You stiffen

slightly at the contact.  I reach up a little more, cup your breasts through

your bra.  The lace, coarse next to your skin, nips at my palms as I massage

and squeeze your flesh.  You relax into the caressing; your nipples pop over

the top of the demi-bra.  I slide my palms slowly up and down, drawing them

across your nipples.  The contrast of soft breast, erect nipple, and coarse

lace excites me further; my prick jerks against you and you grind your hips

against me in response.

    My stroking is beginning to affect you; your breathing deepens and you

relax back into my arms.  The fabric tightens and loosens with each breath; I

wait till you exhale, then quickly lift the cloth up above your tits, feeling

the bottom edge skip over your nipples.  My hands are now cupping soft, warm,

bare flesh.  I try to pull you closer to me, but can't, we are already almost

melded.  I draw my hands outward, dragging the finger tips across the

sensitive underside of your breasts, and you rise up in excitement, breaking

our prolonged kiss.

    I caress inward again, dragging my nails lightly across your skin, tweak

your nipples between thumb and finger, then slide my hands down across your

tummy again.  When they reach the waistband of your skirt, my hands begin a

slow search along the line of cloth.  They find the button that secures your

skirt, and my fingers deftly fail to pilot the button through the treacherous

buttonhole.  I curse softly, and hear you giggle in response.  I silence you

with another kiss, and try again to feed the elusive button back through the

errant hole.  Success!  I slide my hands under the now slack material, across

the elastic and soft cotton of your briefs.  Fingers extended, I home in on

the warmth between your thighs.  You spread your legs slightly; I slide my

fingers between them, along the cotton, to come to rest on either side of your

labia.  "You're soaked," I whisper.  I begin to stroke your cunt lips through

the cotton.  I can smell the aroma of your excitement; the scent is making me

high.  I draw one finger across the center of your panties, the cloth presses

up into your wet slit, sliding easily across your flesh.  You moan softly.

    I draw my hands out of your skirt and step back.  You start to protest,

stop as I kneel down and turn you to face me.  I drop my hands to your ankles

and stroke my way up your legs, lifting your skirt, exposing thighs and

panties to my view.  Your excitement is evidenced by the dark, spreading stain

on the crotch of your panties.  I drop my glasses on the floor, lean forward

and nip your clitoris, lightly, through the cotton.  You take the hem of your

skirt in hand and hold it against your belly.  Leaning back, your ass against

the window sill, you spread your legs wider.

    I stroke one finger across your crotch, feeling the slick moisture coat my

finger.  I pull your panties aside with one hand.  Your labia are swollen and

red; your clitoris peeks shyly from between them.  Your cunt is pouting and

beautiful; it glistens with the moisture of love.  Tongue out, I press my face

between your legs, reaching as far back as I can.  Slowly, gently, I lick

forward across the surface of your lips, savoring the scent and taste of your

sweet juice.  As my tongue reaches the front of your slit, I press up and in,

parting your pussy, exposing your clit.  I press the tip of my tongue up into

the clitoral hood, licking slowly back and forth across the sensitive nub.

You respond with a long sigh, and slowly rock your hips forward and back, your

movement enhancing my tongue's actions.  I purse my lips and suck your clit

gently into my mouth, spreading the hood with soft pressure from my teeth.  I

flick my tongue across your clit, sometimes soft and slow, sometimes faster

and harder.  Then caressing it with wet, slow licks - but always changing

tempo and pressure.  I stop my roving tongue and begin to suck rhythmically,

as though nursing at your breast.  I feel your hand against the back of my

head, urging and encouraging.  My tongue picks up the tempo of my lips,

pressing in and flicking across your clitoris, skipping up over the lip of the

hood.  My free hand slides up between your legs, up the back of your thigh, to

cup and caress the firm globe of your ass.  I extend my thumb between your

cunt lips, slide it slowly back and forth.  You open under the gentle

pressure; my thumb slips easily into your warm pussy.  I keep an even tempo

now, softly sucking lips and darting tongue counterpointed by sliding thumb.

You spread your legs still wider and press down against my hungry mouth, as

though you would encompass me, draw me whole into your womb.

    I slide my thumb out of its warm, wet haven, and cover your entire cunt

with my mouth.  I suck your labia into my mouth, now nipping lightly, now

drawing them across the edge of my teeth with soft suction.  I feel your ass

cheeks clench beneath my hand; I feel the wave of your impending climax ripple

through the muscles in your belly.  I slide my tongue into your waiting body,

savoring the taste of you.  The walls of your cunt contract, as though to hold

me there forever, a willing and loving prisoner.  I carefully bring my teeth

to bear against your now too-sensitive clitoris, letting the motion of your

hips slide the nubbin across my teeth.  Your breath is coming harder and

faster; another soft moan escapes your lips.  I fuck you faster with my

tongue, glorying in the warmth, wetness, and taste of your cunt.  The spasms

in your thighs and buttocks signal the start of your climax, and I thrust my

tongue deeply into you, pressing hard up against you with my mouth.  As the

first wave of the orgasm sweeps through you, you press my face even harder

against you and your thighs clamp viselike around my head.  I feel your

vaginal walls contract and ripple, milking my tongue-prick, drawing me deeper.

I am caught in the maelstrom of your orgasm, overwhelmed by the taste, and

smell, and feel of your cunt.  As the juices of your climax overflow and soak

my face, I explode, my climax triggered by the energy of yours.  Drawing life

and sustenance from your pulsing, hot orgasm, I am transported.

    The shudders slowly subside; the tremors end.  Too soon, our swift

climaxes sweep away.  Your eyes sweep past my face, fasten on the spreading

dark stain on my jeans.  You smile and giggle, "I made you come in your

pants!"  I smile and nod.  "How could I not?"

    My beard and mustache are saturated with your cum; your briefs have

absorbed all they can hold.  I slip them back over your dripping cunt, watch

the wetness seep through and cling to the cotton.  I caress your thighs, slide

my hands up to stroke your ass.  Slipping fingers under the waistband, I

gently pull the sodden panties down, see them peel away from you.  I slide

them slowly down your thighs, past your knees, to your ankles.  I lift one

foot through, then the other.  I lean forward and sweep my tongue across your

slit once again, as my hands begin a slow journey upward.  Forward and back,

slowly, gently, seeking every drop of precious nectar.  I pause to tickle the

hollow behind your knee, then slide my hands back up to cup your ass.  My

tongue snakes insistently between your swollen lips, but finds no more

ambrosia.  I feel your hands on my head, pushing me away, but still I seek.  I

am loath to leave this Eden.  You persist; I yield.  My hands drop to my side.

    "All clean?" you ask.  I nod.

    You stand up, release the hem.  Your skirt drops to cover you again.  "You

missed a spot."


    You turn away, reach down and raise the back of your skirt. Dancer's legs

- muscular calves, velvet thighs, beautifully rounded buttocks, all

exquisitely sculpted in flesh - are slowly exposed to my hungry eyes.  The

slow tease, the smell of you in my beard, and the sight of the swollen labia

my tongue so recently enjoyed - these all combine to excite and arouse me once

again.  I feel my cock hardening again, sliding in my cum soaked jeans.

    You lift your skirt above your ass, and spread your legs.  You lean

forward, your labia opening like a flower in bloom, your cheeks spreading to

expose your anus.  "Right there, in the center."  I scoot forward between your

legs, and raise my face to your groin again.  I slide my tongue between your

lips again, licking back across the perineum, then back into your cunt.


    Willingly, joyously, I slide my tongue out of its haven and trace my way

back, up the crack of your ass.  I stop just short of your anus and withdraw

my tongue.  I reach up, cup your buttocks with my hands, and caress and

massage the firm globes.  I tongue the small of your back, just above your

ass, then press your cheeks together and draw my tongue down the tight

crevice.  I draw your cheeks apart with my palms, flick my tongue across the

tight ring of your asshole.  I circle it, teasingly, savoring the sharp, tangy

taste.  Slowly, I draw the tip of my tongue across it; you press back in

answer.  I spread your cheeks more, push my mouth up to cover your asshole.  I

suck at it gently, moistening it with my lips and caressing it with my tongue.

With each touch of my tongue, I feel you tense and relax, anticipating the

pressure.  I center my tongue on the puckered rosebud, press gently inward.

You resist momentarily, then the sphincter relaxes and the tip of my tongue

enters.  I slide back out and run my tongue around your anus once again.  Then

I press against it gently, entering more easily this time.  I carefully stroke

in and out - slowly, easily, penetrating just a little further.  I pull out

and rim you again, only to return and press back through your now relaxed and

welcoming asshole.  Encouraged, I press a little harder, a little faster.  Now

I'm fucking you with my tongue, sliding in and popping out.  There's no

resistance to my entry, my tongue slides freely into your tight, wet ass.  You

sigh softly and bend over further, pressing back against my face.  I quicken

my pace, staying inside you now.  I pause, pull my tongue just outside you.

You push back against me, and I meet the pressure with a slow, steady thrust,

against the barrier and through again.  You squeeze my tongue with your ass,

pulling me in as far as I can reach.  I stop and wait, feeling your muscles

relaxing again around their lingual visitor.

    Your anus relaxes once more; you begin rocking your hips gently. I catch

your tempo, sliding in and out at your pace.  Slow, long, firm strokes in and

out of you.  I massage and knead the muscles of your ass with my hands, bring

one hand in between your thighs.  I press up with my thumb, parting your lips

again, entering you deeply.  I press a fingertip against your clitoris,

flicking softly across it in time with my tongue.  The sensations are

overwhelming me again - your vaginal walls rippling against my thumb, the

soft/hard nub of your clit under my finger, the rhythmic clenching of your ass

and the taste of you on my tongue.  As my excitement mounts, I speed up,

thrusting my tongue faster and harder, deep in your ass.  I hear your

breathing speeding up; almost gasping you say, "No - too fast, too hard."

I've lost your tempo; I slow down, ease up, wait to feel the rhythm of your

hips.  Ah, got it.  Slower, smoother, not so jerky, easy gentle rhythm.

"Mmmm, yes.  That's it."  I synchronize with your movement, still thrusting

deeply, tongue and thumb alternating thrusts, finger playing lightly over your

clitoris.  "Right there.  Slowly.  Deeper.  Ohhh, yes."  I concentrate on your

responses, feeling the interplay of muscles in your cunt and ass, trying to

balance and tune the pressures and tempos.  This is my heaven - the textures

of your flesh, the smell and the taste of you - I could dwell here forever, my

tongue fucking your ass and my thumb fucking your cunt, feeling your

excitement swell and crest.  I'm getting lost in the sensations again, and am

unprepared for your sudden thrust down.  You draw me fully inside, and I am

trapped deep in you by the grasping muscles as you climax again.

    This orgasm is not as intense as the first; you recover quickly. You pull

slowly away from my face, slipping my tongue out of your ass. I lick across

your wet asshole one last time.  You reach down and take the hand that still

caresses your cunt and press it hard against you before withdrawing it slowly.

You release my hand; your skirt drops to cover you once more.  "Stand up."  I

rise and embrace you from behind, kiss the back of your neck.  You reach

behind and squeeze my still-hard cock through the wet fabric of my jeans.  You

release it and whisper, "I want you."  I step back, unsnap the waist of my

jeans, unzip the fly and start to slide them down, but you say, "No.  Leave

them.  Fuck me now."

    I raise your skirt, tuck the material into the waistband.  You lean

forward, legs spread, one hand on the window sill.  The other hand reaches

back between your legs, waiting for my cock.  I slide my jeans and shorts down

just below my ass and step forward, my prick between your legs, my hands on

your hips.  You take me in hand and stroke yourself with the head of my cock.

It slips easily between your wet lips, back and forth.  You press it briefly

against your clit, then center it.  I press forward slowly, relishing the feel

of you surrounding me.  Penetrating slowly, I stop before I reach your cervix.

Your hand finds my balls, you push back against me and pull on them gently,

till the head bumps against the mouth of your womb.  You put your hand on the

window sill, bracing yourself, pressing back.

    "Stay there.  Don't move yet."

    I press my hips hard against your ass, slide my hands up under your

sweater to cup your breasts.  I lean forward to kiss your neck and nibble on

your ear.  "You feel so good, so hot and wet," I whisper.  I nuzzle your neck,

sucking at the tendons at the base.  The light from the sun on the snow

outside highlights your hair; you are radiantly beautiful.  I pinch your

nipples between my fingers, and you whisper, "Now."  I slide my cock back out

of your cunt, until I feel your labia against the head.  I stop, and slide

back in.  Rippling velvet walls grip and release me, encouraging me.  I bump

lightly against your cervix, and withdraw again.  There is no sound except our

breathing and the moist, gentle sucking of my prick inside you.  I pull

completely free, feel cool air on my cock, and press back inside.  I twirl

your nipples between my fingers, feeling them erect again.  I slide my cock

out again, leaving just the head inside you, and I pause.  You press back,

driving me in again, and I pinch your nipples.  Your ass slaps against my

hips; I bite at the base of your neck, eliciting a soft moan.  I slide my

hands down from your breasts to your hips, scoop your skirt out of the way and

reach down to caress your cunt.  I finger your clitoris gently, then slide two

fingers back to press your labia around the shaft of my cock as it pumps in

and out.  I slide them forward, catching at your clitoris with a fingertip,

then press it back firmly.  I have it trapped, and massaging it mercilessly

between fingertip and prick, I strive to push you to another crest.  I pull

back for yet another thrust, and suddenly you're gone!  My rigid cock bobs

freely in the air as you spin, grab my shirt front, yank it open.  The flying

buttons land and clatter softly down the stairs.  You hiss, "I want to see

your eyes when you come."

    Leaning back against the sill, you lift your skirt and spread your legs.

I step up to you, bend my knees, and guide my prick between your cunt lips.

With one smooth stroke, I bury myself as deeply inside you as I can go.  I

grab the bottom of your sweater, pull it up across your breasts.  Bending

forward, still fully hilted, I grab one nipple with my lips, lash it with my

tongue.  I give it one hard nip and pull away as my hands seek out your ass; I

grab you and lift you to me.  You wrap your arms around my neck, your legs

around my waist.  Our mouths come together, and you brand me with your tongue

and lips and teeth.  I feel your nipples, hard and hot, rubbing against my

chest as I raise and lower you on my cock, pumping hard, fast, and deep.  As

your nipples slide across mine, I feel the tightening in my balls, the

fluttering in my gut that signals the start of my climax.  Eyes closed, I

break the kiss and moan, "Oh, god, I'm going to come."

    "No, not yet, not till I say.  You can't come till I tell you.  If you

come before I tell you, you'll have to do it over."

    The distraction works; I suppress a snicker and open my eyes to look at

you.  You're grinning, but I see a glassy hint of impending orgasm in your


    "Relax your arms and legs a bit," I tell you, "drop down just a little."

As you do, I let you slide away from me and then swing back.  Still driving in

and out, I say, "Look down."

    You follow my gaze down to our parting and rejoining hips; you can see my

cock driving almost horizontally into you, disappearing below the curls of

your pubic hair.  We both stare, mesmerized, at the hard shaft pistoning in

and out.  Each time my cock comes into view, it drags smoothly across your

clit; as I penetrate you again, the hood closes, like a winking eye.  Our

universe contracts until it contains nothing but my cock sliding over your

clit and deep into you, the constant friction of shaft on clit, the pressure

of my hands on your ass, and the warmth of skin on skin.  We increase the

pace; the slap of skin on skin echoes off the bare walls of the stairwell.  I

feel your juices flowing hot around my shaft, running down to my balls and

cooling.  The tension in my groin mounts.  I look into your eyes and see my

lust reflected there.  Your face is contorting as your crisis looms, you're

almost there now.  "Come with me, Kitten.  Come while I fuck you."  I

punctuate my words with energetic thrusts.  The walls of your cunt ripple and

contract, "Now, Kitten, now!"  I feel my muscles contract with the first wave

of my climax, I block it and hold it, draw you hard to me, crushing chest

against chest in one last, deep thrust.  Your cunt grabs and crushes me,

overpowers my will.  The universe contracts to a single, white-hot point of

throbbing cock in convulsing cunt, then expands infinitely outward as we

explode together.


    Short lifetimes later, I come back into myself.  I am still holding you to

me, buried inside you; you are still wrapped around me, engulfing and

gripping.  My cheeks are wet; I'm crying from the power of our release.  Your

head rests on my shoulder; I cradle you and cuddle you.  I turn, step

carefully out of the jeans that hobble me, and walk slowly down the hall,

moving cautiously to keep me inside you.  Into the bathroom, where I carefully

lift you from my cock and set you on your feet.  I unzip your skirt, let it

drop to the floor, peel off your sweater and unfasten your bra.  As you lean

against the counter, I kiss your lips gently.  I wet a face cloth with hot

water, kneel down and wipe away the semen streaming down your thighs.  Slowly,

carefully, I lave your swollen, tender labia.  I set aside the cloth and kiss

your clitoris once, softly, then lift you up and seat you on the counter.  I

rinse out the cloth again, and gently sponge off your breasts, pressing the

hot cloth against your still erect nipples.  Your breathing is softer and more

regular now, you open your eyes.  You reach out, pull me to you, and our lips

meet in a soft, sweet, prolonged kiss.  I pull away, and whisper, "I love

you."  You slide off the counter and into my arms; for long moments we stand,

embracing.  You sit on the toilet to expel the last of my semen; I bend over

and steal another kiss.  You take the cloth and slowly clean me.  Then you

spank me once and say, "Go get dressed, I'm late for work."  I cross the hall,

and go into the bedroom.

    I emerge from the bedroom, clothed once again, to find you dressed,

standing in front of the mirror, brushing your hair.  You set down the brush

and step out of the bathroom.  Hand in hand, we walk down the hall.  You stop

at the head of the stairs, bend down and pick up your purse and your lunch

bag.  I pick up your wet panties, saying, "I don't think you want to wear

these.  I'll keep them for a while."  You smile.  I come up behind you and put

my arms around your waist, hug you close to me.  You gaze out the window at

the blanket of snow on the ground and murmur, "It's lovely...."

                      Copyright 1989 by Mark A. Foster

                   This work may be re-distributed freely.

                             It may not be sold.


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