My Lesbian Fantasy Story 16
Karen
I have a long-term female companion with whom I still share a bed on occasion. I married my husband with her consent and with the understanding that I would provide her with thorough details of everything that occurred whenever my husband did anything. In such case, I go into great length about it.
Because we only used our fingers vaginally, Mary and I were both considered virgins. We built a home-made dildo with a tube running through it and a bulb on one end so that we could squeeze hand lotion or something similar when we used it up our bums…which we both thought was really thrilling.
With the exception of watching and teasing guys masturbate, none of us was really interested in males, and I was still a virgin on my honeymoon, as Mary demonstrated with her finger on the wedding eve. After agreeing with Mary that I would remain a virgin for the first night, I was a little concerned about what would happen on the first night. I didn’t believe it would be feasible. On that first night in our bedroom, I waited until Fred had finished his business in the bathroom before swiftly changing into my nightie and retiring to bed.
(We had twin beds, and we’ve had them ever since.) In the evening, he returned and stripped, coming to my bedside nude (I had never seen him naked before, nor had I touched the prick outside his pants), and I estimated his prick to be around 5 inches long and somewhat bent.
When he woke me, he took the bedclothes off of me and pressed his prick against my thigh, stroking it, while he slid my nightie over my shoulders, displaying my tits, which are well developed and hard, with large teats. By this point, he was firm and about 6 inches long, and he did nothing except stare at me.
When he finished, he knelt over my shoulders and said, “I’m going to christen you.”
He continued stroking, his balls swinging and caressing my nipples, and then he began rubbing faster and breathing harder, and his spunk splattered all over my face and around my lips. He stepped out of the car, turned out the lights, and went to his bed.
In the following nights, he always threw himself off like that, either on my face or my tits or cunt, and left me to fend for myself in the morning. I used to watch him rub off in the middle of the night while he thought I was sleeping, listening to the small squeezing sounds he made as he wiped his wet prick dry on my nightie. In my sleep, it was at this point that I lived out my scenario.
While my legs were open wide, I pulled on my nipples and fingered my cunt, pretending that a large dog was charging at me and that I was watching him lick his prick and then my cunt until I was compelled to open my legs wide, raised up, as he fucked me hard, stimulated by appropriate action with my finger.
In my imagination, I could generate a tremendous sensation as I envisioned the dog, which was always with a guy who carried a whip in case I refused to obey.
So I went out and purchased myself a long, low stool, similar to the one I envisioned myself resting on in my dreams, and on the days when it was just me, I would strip nude and lie on it with a dog whip beside me and my legs wide apart, dreaming my fantasy whenever the mood struck me.
I was able to arrange the stool in such a way that the guy in the home across the street would – and often did – observe me from his bedroom window while I watched him in a cleverly positioned mirror on the other wall.
One day, Mary walked in and caught me, forcing me to reveal all I had been hiding, and subsequently assisting me in turning my dream become a reality. We’d observed dogs numerous times before and found it really thrilling when they couldn’t get out of the kennel for a few minutes after they’d been restrained. A new neighbor had moved in, and his wife had a magnificent Alsatian dog, which came into our garden one day when I was visiting Mary, and I was delighted to see him.
When Mary called him in, he immediately pressed his nose into my cunt.
She forced me to fondle him and get his prick out, and I was startled by how large and difficult it was to pry it out. She forced me to wash it and then lay down and really suck it, after which she gave me a flick with the broomstick.
whip to lend a hand Last but not least, she forced me to lay down on the stool with my legs apart while she stroked her fingers over my cunt, which was now quite wet, and ran her hand over my nipples. She enticed the dog in front of me into licking my nipples, and then she stroked his cock into my cunt until it was lodged in my cunt.
He was aware of the situation and seemed to be well-versed in it. It slid completely up my back and he pushed hard and fast till I felt my cunt become wet as he squirted inside of me, soaking my clothes.
This was the climax of my ideal, but I continue to dream about it on a regular basis. It’s a pleasure to be able to share this information with you — with Mary’s permission, as you can see.
My Lesbian fantasy story 16
fantasy stories
Ella
In the middle of a completely empty beach, I’m laying down on my back, fully asleep. I’m just wearing a bikini, with the bottom portion secured on either side with a little bow and the top fastened in front with a bow as well, in between my gigantic breasts, which are already practically overpowering the small piece of fabric that serves as a bra. I’m not wearing any other clothing.
During the night, I breathe deeply and steadily, altering positions just slightly.
As I sleep, a man’s shadow comes over me, and he stands there staring down at me. He has a tan that is almost as dark as his skin and just wears swimming trunks. He keeps an eye on me, and as he watches me sleep, he becomes aroused.
As he kneels beside me, very quietly and gently so as not to disturb me, he carefully unties the bow at one of my hips, then leans over me to untie the other side of the bow. With one motion, he pulls the bikini back, revealing my face to his gaze.
For a few period, he just sits there, soaking everything in. I mutter in my sleep and move position slightly, parting my thighs a little further, which causes my slit to be angled upwards a little more. His erection becomes massive, and he slips out of his shorts and kneels over me with his hands on my genitals.
On each side of my thighs, I have a knee on each side. Without even opening my eyes, I slide one hand out to his penis and softly caress it, and then slip it, much to his astonishment, straight into my cunt. I don’t even have to think about it. Afterwards, I let him fuck the bejesus out of me while rocking with him. But I never open my eyes; instead, I whisper as if I were asleep and dreaming of something exciting.
Marie
Marie resembles the other young ladies who reside in the suburban region where she and her husband relocated after the birth of their second child, and she has the same scrubbed good looks as the other young women.
She informed me that she was a virgin when she and Phil were married, and that she’s been tempted once or twice to pursue one of the frivolous flirtations that began at the country club or at a neighbor’s party, but that she’s always refrained because she was afraid of the repercussions.
If I ever genuinely went to bed with another guy, I don’t believe I’d be able to look Phil in the eyes again. I’d really want to be able to do it since I’ve had so little sex in such a long time that I feel completely out of my element, so inexperienced…so boring. But I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I’m envious of females who are a few years younger than me and have been able to take advantage of all of this sexual freedom.
This dream even makes me feel bad about myself, yet I can’t stop it from intruding into my head whenever we actually have sex together. It makes it so much more thrilling, and I try to convince myself that I deserve it…at the very least, the dream version, if not the actual version. Who knows what will happen? If anything like this occurred in real life, as it does in my imagination, I may simply go ahead and do it.
Even if I’m just hanging about at a party outside, I find myself thinking about the subject. I’m standing there with my gin and tonic in hand, hoping the guy I’m chatting to understood what was going through my head.
This garden party comes to mind in my thoughts, and it seems quite similar to one of the nights that take place around here two or three times a week throughout the summer months. In my mind’s eye, I see the landscape: the sloping lawns, the large trees, the rows of hedges, and everything else.
maintained up in a very professional manner I can even hear the gardeners softly snipping away at the bushes in the distance, somewhere in the middle of nowhere… Except in my fiction, it is not true that gardeners labor at night. Because all of the males are dressed in black tie, it is nighttime. I’m dressed in a short dress, which happens to be the only very short dress I’ve ever purchased (my concession to the mini craze).
And, maybe most significantly, I’m not wearing any stockings.
I didn’t even wear pantyhose, which is very unlike me. Every waiter is dressed in a short red jacket, just like the real ones. My dress is a really gorgeous blue – just like the actual one. Is it acceptable to daydream in bright colors? I, on the other hand, do.
I’ve taken off on my own and strolled off to a very remote section of the garden.
That’s not unusual for me, since I like flowers and am usually interested in exploring any new gardens I come across. Suddenly, I meet a guy, who happens to be another visitor, and we start talking about flowers and other topics. I’m not familiar with him.
He’s someone I’ve never met before.
He’s almost certainly someone’s spouse, as are the vast majority of the males who attend these gatherings. In reality, I am well aware in my dream that he is the property of someone else…which makes it both simpler and more fascinating.
He gets down on his knees to select a flower for me. However, he does not rise to his feet; I mean, he does not stand up. He sneaks up below my dress. Instead of voicing my dissatisfaction, I just stand there with my drink in hand and a hazy smile for the other distant guests, who can only see me from the waist up due to the fact that I am standing behind this pretty tall hedge. It seems like a boxwood or a yew to me.
As for the material itself, it’s really thick and substantial, which is significant since it practically serves to support me as I lean against it in the ensuing frenzy. He has found that I am not wearing any underwear, which has surprised him (no lady in our community would think of going without anything), and he doesn’t waste any time in announcing: It seems like he’s pressing his lips against mine and sticking his tongue directly into my ear.
I feel like I’m about to fall into the hedge because my knees are so weak. There could have been a split second there, when he initially crept up under my dress, when I would have taken a step back, but his mouth is too much for me right now, and I hope that he will continue.
Looking down about this time, I can see that he has taken his fly off and is playing with himself, as well as an erection the size of which I’ve never seen before on anybody else.
I can’t take my gaze away from his penis, which is growing in size as my own enthusiasm builds. When I put my hand on his cock, the veins in his hand are as stretched as the veins in his penis, it’s like magic.
His mouth is soft and demanding, and his own hand on his cock is tender and demanding as well. In fact, my legs grow so weak that it’s almost as if I’m perched there on his lips, as if it’s holding me up, and if I move my gaze away from his hand, or even his penis, I’m afraid I’ll pass out.
Instantaneously, just as I’m about to reach my climax, but not quite – but exactly when it feels like I’m about to reach it – these little bubbles begin to appear at the tip of his penis, bubbles that grow faster and faster one after another, and I begin to worry that he’ll finish before I do and that he’ll stop.
In addition to everything else, the other individuals begin shouting our names, and I can even hear Phil’s voice calling my name to come in for supper. Neither the discovery of our location nor the fact that he should quit before I’ve completed would be worse outcomes at this point. For a split second, I’m suspended in space, completely reliant on this unknown individual;
I wouldn’t be able to move even if Phil were to walk right at me, which he is about to do. Thank heavens, everything occurs at the same time after that: The whole garden party, all of the other guests, turn as a group to follow our hostess inside dinner, and at that moment, this man’s bubbles transform into the most magnificent jet of ejaculation, and I reach my climax. I’m very sure I came close to drowning the poor fellow.
