Many of you are much better at translating your thoughts into words. I fear I am not as adept at expressing myself. This is my fantasy. Pardon my banal use of the english language.

My fantasy is different, a bit less erotic than others. Still my fantasy lives within me as a dream that one day might happen. Some fantasies are works of fiction, games of mental masturbation that fulfill carnal desires. Mine is simply hope, aged with the patience that I am only now coming to accept as part of an aging and wiser life.:mellow:

I have been married for nineteen of my forty four years to a woman that I have known for over twenty three years. My wife strives to be refined and respectible and, as is the case in many marriages, has grown to be more of a friend than a lover. When we make love it is a close and warm bonding that helps us to forget the rest of the world and lie alone, together.

On occasion, with just the right touch, a little bit of adventure, or just the right phase of the moon a desire will come alive within her and I find myself dipping into the passion that I found within her in my youth. Touching my wife while she eases herself onto me in a way that is savage and hungry rather than loving and gentle now becomes fuel for further passion. She is transformed into something wholly sexual and entirely consuming.

The knowledge that within this relatively straight and relatively self controlled woman lays such desire is the seed for fantasy. It is this mystery that I think about when I am alone in my bed, touching myself, drifting between dreams.

I know that there are keys to what lies within my love. Those keys, however are carefully hidden from me. Only the occasional wrong turn through fate has allowed me to stumble upon them. The woman herself is a reserved creature. Not one to dally too far from convention, except in those dark evenings where desire transforms her into something else.

Imagine for a moment, if you will, such a woman, having loved animals her whole life, but never having allowed even the merest hint of sexual desire to enter into that relationship. It is a firm wall she has built between right and wrong. It is a barrier that never will be breeched.

Lying in bed one summer night, with the air conditioning off and the windows open to let in the warm nighttime breezes. Her body is comfortably naked as she allows the warmth of the evening air to wash the pressures of the day from her. The scents of cut grass and the end of day drift on the air. Only the two of us are in the house, comfortably unpressured by the presence of one another.

As she lies in the bed, legs flopped to either side, Toby, our shepherd walks into the room lazily searching for his people with whom he can feel at home. Toby finds her quietly drifting on the edge of sleep, quietly breathing the warm night air and beds down beside her; lying by his mistress, enjoying her nearness and the scent that always accompanies her. He too smells the cut grass and the smells of the day and the myriad scents that humans do not, and the special scents of his mistress, lying comfortably, lovingly beside him. She is warmth, and love, and everything good to him.

Toby moves his head to her thigh. Her skin is silky and smooth. The scents of a woman flood his senses. Without thinking, perhaps out of the haze of the evening itself, perhaps just the reactions of love and warmth so near, certainly not out of conscious thought or intent, he moves his head over and lazily licks his soft tongue across her labia. The motion is slow and wet. The loving scents of his mistress become him, overwhelming the evening and filling his need for closeness with his family.
Lying in bed nearly asleep, my wife, feels his tongue. Its warmth is fitting on such a night as this. Not wholly conscious she moves her legs apart and feels the warmth and softness as Toby slowly licks her labia. First the sensation is merely warmth, not the least forbidden, to her barely conscious mind. Then the warmth transforms itself, waves of barely perceptible arousal begin to awaken her as she begins to awaken to what she is doing. The shepherd’s tongue, initially just a warm, wet massage becomes more insistent, more determined, probing more deeply. The heat is sexual. The wetness probing deeper into her, so much desire, so completely wrong, but so urgent; delivering an overwhelming desire to continue, to just allow it to continue…

What was once an accidental and casual affection has blossomed into single-minded desire for Toby. The scents of his mistress, always there but never before such a rich bouquet of desire and animal responsiveness, consume him; her touch on his muzzle, the taste on his tongue. He can feel himself slip from without his sheath. She is his, she is desire, and she is everything.

Toby pulls his body off the mattress and pushes against his mistress. Her skin is hot and he can hear her breath raspy within the world of scents that shout desire. She rolls over onto her hands and knees. He can feel her under him, her body sweet and the scent of her sex flooding his mind. He grabs her pulls her to him, no longer caring about anything but his need to couple with her, to have her.

As she rolls over, she has given in. This is just a moment in time, nothing else exists for her. His body heavy above hers grabs her with uncharacteristic ferocity. She can feel a painful jab and then intense pleasure as he slips savagely into her. Toby hammers into her buttocks like a lover gone mad, his desire becoming her desire. The heat of her passion is dwarfed by his vigor and ferocity, his hot semen filling her. Never before has she felt the intimate spurting of her lover’s ejaculate, so satisfying in its heat and volume.

Surprisingly he swells within her, the knot forming and tightening within her vagina. The pounding leads directly and tangibly to her own pleasure, coming before she even expects it, with waves of pleasure and release; the intensity surprising and ultimately satisfying.

Her body is spent, Exhausted. Nothing is left. Toby is quiet but his knot still stretches her and she feels the satisfying pulse of his penis as he continues to ejaculate, filling her. Eventually he falls from her and a flood of sperm pours from within her. She lays there smiling, satiated, complete.

Good god my friend...you are a very gifted writer...a 10 if I could vote.

A great story. I hope you have more for us soon. Certainly deserves a 10

Thank you for the kind words.

Methinks you doth protest too much. That was beautifully written and a nice story. Thanks and a 10.

You do have a way with words... the phrasing and flow seem sensual and feminine, which I do occasionally appreciate.

I gave you a 10 :blush:

A superb story, beautifully written, exquisitely erotic; and I suspect there a lot of guys out there who could resonate with that fantasy. Thanks for sharing this with us; I look forward to your next one.

wow what a beautiful deplicition of that deep inner calling that many have but refuse themself..
hats off to you for putting into such tender innocent reality

i voted you a 10

nice fantasy. very well written.

Thank you. It is nice to be able to share...

Dear God...When you said that you cant put your expressions into words very well and indicated your "banal use of the English Language" as you called it, i thought i was in for a normal everyday read, not something fully formed and so beautiful... That was an exquisite fantasy, very beautifully written. I had never felt a fantasy like this dunk me into such a pool of nirvana, a feeling of complete ecstasy. If anything else jumps to your mind, write it down, because things written like this are the ones really worth reading.
Thank you.

1. You are more than adept at expressing yourself!
2. This is erotic as hell!

k, i'll get off my soap box now




Columbusjack, I hope that every wish you've had comes true for you........


Thank your for sharing this part of yourself with us......
:wub:

WOW!
Definitely a !0 in my mind!
Hope to see more of your writing.

thankyou that was very nice

Friends. I am happy you liked it. Humbled too. Thanks.

--ColumbusJack