What’s Your Ultimate Fantasy? (Sign Language, Pt. 2)

WORDS BY DAVE JACKSON

PT. 1

Mark grabs me again, with force. He looks at me deep and true. Leaning in slowly, he kisses me. Then, he grabs my face, pulling me in closer and passionately donating his lips and tongue to our non-verbal communication.

I feel his hands and arms wrap around my waist and pull me in. The air in my lungs leaves my body in one deep exhale.

Mark raises me up off my feet, never releasing his lips from mine. We’re one in this moment and he gently carries me to the bed and lays me down.

Perched at the foot of the bed while I lay there longingly, he studies my body from head to toe before working his magic.

Mark begins by licking and sucking between my toes. His tongue rides up my body inch by inch until he finally reaches my walls and unearths my clit once more. He puts a finishing layer of sublime gloss on my throbbing midsection for good measure.

He hovered above me. Erect, firm and ready.

As his tongue travels upwards to my belly button, I feel him slide inside of me. The head penetrated my walls first and I wince at the snug fit, brought on by a decade of abandonment. His shaft follows and I release in notes of pleasure that could only be rivaled by a Minnie Ripperton high note. Still, he pushes and I’m not sure how much further he can go.

“It’s in there,” I whispered, softly.

Mark arches his back and proceeds to stroke me to the bass line and snare drum of the song on the stereo, “Fantastic Vampire” by Sa-Ra. Yes, he is Bram Stoker’s Dracula. He is mist floating through my sheets taking my virtue, stealing my innocence, turning me into a woman I had not previously been.

When he pulls back, my eager walls follow and ease him out. When he pushes in, they buckle under the pressure and I moan in response. I want him to make me an example.

It’s his first day out after being locked up for 10 years. I want the type of pounding that will remind him that he’s a free man. I want all of that caged testosterone to be released upon me. I want it all. I want him.

I haven’t said a word, but he hears me.

Mark pushes my legs back close to my ears and I’m more surprised than he is that they’re willing to travel that far. He positions his body into a push up and gives me one good hard stroke that creates that familiar sound of flesh being slammed against flesh.

Attentive to my body’s needs, Mark checks to make sure I can take it and I let him know that I am willing to take in any and everything he has to offer.

He starts, slowly pounding me stroke by stroke.

I’m open but I don’t want Mark to know just how open but he knows me all too well. His rhythm accelerates so that the slapping sounds of flesh against flesh are more frequent and more intense.

Try as I may to stifle my moans; I break down and cry out for God for mercy from this pleasurable pain.

Mark lets my legs down and they’re shaking uncontrollably and I can’t calm myself enough to stop them. He pulls me to edge of the bed and tightens his grip on my waist and begins to pull me back down against his thickness.

His strokes are slow and fast at the same time. He is in total control and knows it. He would like for me to surrender and he won’t stop until I tap out.

Mark presses all of his weight on top of me. Then, in one swooping move he turns himself over while remaining inside of me until I find myself on top. I figure he’s relinquished all power to me and I can now start breaking him down.

No such luck.

Mark grabs my hands and places them on his chest. Still looking directly at me, his eyes have not moved since that door opened, he grabs my waist and lifts me up just high enough for my walls to almost lose their grip. Then, just as I feel he’s about to escape my grasp, he drops me back on top of him with such force and passion that I want to stay here in this moment for the next 10 years.

The ecstasy is indescribable.

I watched him pick me up, arch his back and push himself into me while I’m in the air. He was all in and had me licking my own nipples this dick, this glorious dick, was taking me somewhere I had never been before.

The white substance dripping out of me and on to him was thick like several coats of nail polish. Mark was literally pumping the cum out of me in heavy releases that broke my body down slowly. I was cuming so often and so hard that I was sweating. He was creating heat in my body that even I couldn’t control.

I held back tears when he finally pulled me down and sat up to pull me closer. We embraced for a moment; both breathing heavy and deep. It was a brief interlude before he took control once more.

Mark pulled me to my feet and turned me around. He grabbed me from behind with one arm and wrapped it around my lower half. The other hand has my hair in a knot and pulled back.

He pushes me against the wall and positions me in front of the closet mirror. He turns my head so I can watch our reflections as he pushes his dick into my welcome walls.

His doggy style is serious business. I swear it feels like he’s changing my life with each forceful stroke. It feels as if he’s leaning on my back, like he’s attached to me and dropping this dick into me from a diving board.

If fucking were an Olympic sport, Mark would be a world record holder for best stroke.

He pulls my hair, drawing my pulsating pussy back to him. I watch him intently in the mirror. My eyes follow his stroke, his hips, his arms, his legs, and all his muscles working in one fluid motion to please me.

Mark’s manmade thunderclaps increase as he thrusts his entire dick into me, bringing on more rain. My knees buckle and I slowly descend towards the floor. I’m forced to balance myself with my hands, which places my ass in the air. Mark, however, is relentless in his pleasure principle.

Just when I think he can’t get any deeper he pulls my arms behind me and wraps his hands over my wrists. As he leans all in it, it feels as if he’s lifting my entire body off the ground with just his cock.

He pulls me to climax over and over and over again. I came so hard and so frequently from this position that I vaguely remember him carrying me to the bed when he was finally done having his way with me.

I remember waking from my orgasm-induced haze to Mark kissing my forehead and wiping me down with a warm rag. All of these things are happening without a word being said, just smiles, nods and gestures.

He leaves the room and comes back a short while later with food. We ate, watched TV and then took a shower together. He dried me off and I returned the favor. We took turns rubbing lotion on each other, exploring and admiring our bodies.

We didn’t fall asleep until six hours after this ordeal started; wrapped inside an embrace that lasted until dawn. When I awoke the next morning with the sun beaming off my face, I found that Mark had already departed. I relived the previous night in my mind before getting up and heading to the bathroom, where I found a note addressed to me from him.

A smile filled my face as I read the note, reminding me it was my turn to pick up the kids from my moms house but he would cook dinner tonight and that he loved me.

Just then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wondered what Mark and I would do for next week’s Wednesday night role-play.

Fin!

Have you ever role played with your lover before? Did it live up to your expectations? Was it empowering/liberating to pretend to be another person for the night? Do you think that living out fantasies can spice up a marriage/relationship? Can the moments after sex actually be more intimate than the act of sex itself? Have you ever had a partner wipe you down with a warm rag after the act? Have you ever had a lover that knew your body so well they could communicate with you without saying a word? What would be your ultimate role-play fantasy?

Speak your piece…