Archive-name: Dreams/fantdec.txt
Archive-author: Mark A. Foster
Archive-title: December Fantasy, A


    Imagine....

    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."

    "Where?"

    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.
"Higher."

    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
eyes.

    "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.
--
