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Fantasy No More!
Fantasy No More!
He was tall, about 6'3". His hair, somewhat blond, was thinning with dignity and discipline. His eyes were not a conventional blue. They seemed to be a deep, blue-green color; much like the Mediterranean. He was a businessman or an upper echelon military-type in civilian attire. He had a quite sophistication and strength about him.
The line was long. He disguised his impatience with thoughts of his deep desire. He closed his eyes and saw them rolling around in the bed together. A wonderful bottle of French wine was on the sitting room table. He was pouring small drops of it on her nipples and licking and sucking the droplets. Her nipples were the color of black coffee. Her breasts were slightly lighter and round and large, very large. She could lay on her side with one propped against a pillow and he could suck and feed for hours. That was a major source of her enjoyment. Orgasm after orgasm came just from sucking her in that way. "It's magic," he thought. How could she "cum" from having her nipples sucked. She was the descendant of Africans. There was something so exciting about that. He burned with excitement and desire each and every time he thought of her, touched her, smelled her and tasted her. He craved this Black woman. She carried the secrets of the earth and nature in her soul and spirit. She had a special relationship with the universe. She made him more alive and human. She loved him and made love to him in a way that connected him with all that was real, true and sensual.
He opened his eyes to realize what seemed like a night of ecstasy was a matter of seconds, really.
Regret filled him. He realized, once again, that he had never met her; yet longed to be beside her and inside of her.
As the line moved closer to the counter; he wondered how long it would take to get his boarding pass. It would be a long, too routine flight. He'd made the trip so many times.
The man in front of him in line was abrasive. The lady in front of him was too talkative and rude. Wow! "Have I thought her into existence?" There she was short, just-above-the-shoulder length hair, eyes that danced with delight and sensuality, a smile that said "come inside me" and a round, brown body that seemed to invite him into her.
He struck up the proverbial conversation. They discovered they were assigned seat next to one another. In the five hours that followed, they learned about one another. She was intelligent, well-educated and well-rounded with a command of the English language that even he envied.
She exuded sensuality and yes, sex appeal. Her eyes, her eyes, her eyes; they kept dancing and talking. "How many times has she asked me to take her?"
Five years passed after that eventful trip. It was five in the morning. He turned over in bed. His manhood was rising along with the satin sheet that covered it. He turned to his left and became even more wanting; when he saw the beautiful brown mounds of flesh just hanging over the sheet. He knew it wouldn't matter that she was asleep. He'd suck her breasts to awaken her. She did just that. A slight smell of last night's orgasms was still in the air. Instantly, she was wet; as she always was whenever he touched her. He pulled her to the edge of the bed. She rose to her knees. He entered her pussy from behind. He pounded her in a rhythm. She responded in that same rhythm. They came together. An hour went by. They knew they had to stop. It was Wednesday; just the middle of the week.
He no longer had to close his eyes to envision the excitement of his milk-white body holding her and folding into her dark coffee-brown, blackness.
She was his desire. She made him whole and satisfied.
The phone rang. It was his office. She answered.
"Mrs. Jergen, is Mr. Jergen available?"
"Yes Sally, he is."
She leaned over to give him the phone as she licked and sucked the tip of his penis with a speck of mixed, dried cum from both of them on the head of it.