0 comments/ 7597 views/ 10 favorites Surface Tension Ch. 01 By: jazmint Author's note: like all my stories, this one explores real-life situations magnified into grotesque caricature, for purposes of exploring motivations and the power of fantasy in heightening pleasure with some safety. That safety would likely evaporate in the event that any of this passed into reality; hence, the purpose of writing any of this. It is utter fantasy and happens only in fairy-tale, that it may never break out of its prison and render terrible havoc. That said, many of the emotions and painful choices facing my characters arise from real experience. Common (though not universal) themes in my stories range from interracial experiences, possibility of pregnancy and couples tortured by the pressures of modern society (not necessarily one any of us live in) possibly resulting in some level of cheating/cuckoldry . ***** Gina was a sweet but shy girl, self conscious because she felt that she had plain looks. She was attractive in a way that she couldn't see (though modest in appearance), and was very generous and giving and loved by her friends. She thought herself a good person, but has always been self-conscious and shy. Tony was very down-to-earth and enjoyed the simple things. He had simple ambitions, but a good heart. He had undistinguished looks and dressed simply, with an average (if not slight) build. Gina and Tony had been set up in high school and gone out together for over two years. Eventually they married under encouragement from their parents and friends, as both were a bit shy and socially awkward and seemed in danger of never settling down. After an awkward start, their marriage built into a solid relationship and both felt happy and secure for the first couple of years. Their shared modesty seemed to fit well with a simple life. After a while though, things seemed a bit unsatisfying for both and in time they settled into a comfortable but distant friendship, more than a typical marriage. Neither was really happy, nor was either terribly unhappy. It was only a kind of bland but acceptable arrangement. Overall both found it safe and comfortable, though possibly at times unrewarding. Except for occasional nights of enjoyable pleasure—generally coinciding with Gina's fertile time when Tony unfortunately had to wear a condom—sex was mostly mundane, though seemingly adequate. They were undecided about having children, and did want to put the decision off until they had solidified their financial situation. Having had lonely teenaged years, both were happy to at least be able to enjoy some sexual relationship. Gina worked part-time as a cashier, while Tony was an apprentice carpenter. They earned enough together to afford a basic apartment while saving for something better. When Tony started a new job, his workmates liked to compare sex stories and harass those without tales of great sexual escapades to relate. While the others were exaggerating their yarns, Tony's honesty and simplicity singled him out for picking on. Egged on by the others, he complained more and more about his banal sexual experiences. In time this began to wear on him, and he would often complain to Gina, making her feel inadequate and unappreciated. The stress of the mild conflict built into long periods of no sexual activity at all, until both became quite frustrated and as the trouble spoiled over into other parts of the relationship, Tony decided that they should take a period of trial separation. His idea was to see if it would rekindle things, or failing that as a chance to think things over. Gina was devastated, and struggled with him to try to find a way to finance counselling or work things out themselves. For a time—though Gina was terrified of losing him and stressed beyond ability to give him what he had been persuaded that he needed from her—they did stay in their apartment together and she took every opportunity to hug and cherish him. Taking more flack from work, Tony was less and less receptive to reconciliation. The lads at work had advised him that their problems (which were largely inflated by the lads themselves) were her fault, and he found himself convinced that a short break might shake Gina up and inspire her to perform better. When Tony insisted that they try a short break, Gina had no choice and found an apartment that she could afford. Moving into the new suite, she spent a lot of time hiding away inside, depressed and feeling both dejected and regretful that she hadn't done more to save the marriage. At first she was a wreck and held little hope that Tony would see that they both needed to work together to build a stronger, more satisfying bond In maintaining contact with Tony, over the first month she became aware that he felt strongly that it was only temporary. He convinced her that it was just to see if it helped, and that if they both agreed, they could get a place together again in a short while and give it another try. He insisted that he only wanted time to be sure that they were both in agreement on everything and both fully committed before they made that move. Gina inwardly disagreed—feeling that being together was the best way to keep communication open—but very encouraged that they both did agree that this was interim. In time, she hoped to be able to convince him that she was ready to be his dream wife; that she was ready for the ultimate marriage—something any of their friends would be envious of. Gina started to emerge from her prison of gloominess and dressed more vibrantly, going out for walks to see the flowers, spending time outside in the sun at the apartment building. She was still missing Tony and the simple comfort of their home together, but feeling more optimistic and thinking of the brighter future. Spending more time out of her suite she went to the library, took walks, and spent time reading outdoors. While reading in the apartment building's flower garden, she was interrupted by a man who asked if she knew when the laundry facilities would re-open after some repair work. She greeted the man with a smile and said, "I'm not sure. Hopefully soon—it's been all weekend." He smiled back at her and asked if he could sit beside her for a moment and enjoy the sun. She nodded, still smiling. She tucked the skirt of her yellow sundress out of the way and set her book aside, smiling at him. The fellow introduced himself as Edgar to which Gina smiled and said, "Hello, Edgar. I'm Gina." Edgar gently took her hand and gave her fingers a soft kiss, which made her shiver. She had never had anyone do such a thing. Having almost no experience around black men, she wondered if they were all such gentlemen. She became aware that she was blushing and felt very shy. He said tenderly and disarmingly, "What a pleasure to see such a lovely lady reading in the garden. May I ask what you're reading?" She welcomed the distraction and answered, "Thank you! It's a book about marriage counselling." He immediately seemed concerned and asked cautiously, "I've never seen you here before. Do you live here with your husband?" "No," she shook her head trying not to show any grief. "We're separated." "Oh my," he offered, patting her hand softly. "I do hope things work out for you. You seem such a lovely lady; I would be heartbroken to be separated from you." Flattered and surprised, she smiled sweetly, still blushing and softly said, "Thank you. You're very sweet." He got more comfortable alongside her, pressing up against her due to the narrow width of the bench. "Like most of the men here, I'm a bachelor. It's an enjoyable life at times, but someday I will meet 'the one,' I am sure," he expressed, in an effort to try to take her mind off whatever roughness she was enduring. Gina was enthralled with his deep, gentle voice and felt chills whenever he talked. She smiled at him, "I hope so, too. You seem such a kind man." She was utterly enthralled at his appearance and his imposing presence. The deep color of the dark chocolate skin of his thick, muscled arm touching her soft slight shoulder gave her chills. His appearance was quite striking and the experience of being so close to such a charismatic, beautiful, powerful looking man and having his attention was not something she had seriously imagined before. She had no idea what to do and sat nearly paralyzed. "And you do seem such a kind, sweet lady. I hope that I may find someone like you to spend my life with," he smiled back at her. She nearly gasped as he leaned in and whispered, "What a pair we would make." She felt a flutter of excitement and her eyes flashed wide. She couldn't help smiling softly at him, their faces almost touching. She found Edgar to be by far the most charming man she had ever met. She struggled to think of something to say to encourage him in his search, suddenly aware that he was flirting with her and that the proper thing to do would be to discourage that respectfully. Her mouth opened and she looked at him, but nothing came out... nothing seemed appropriate. The only thing not going through her mind at that moment was the existence of her husband. After they sat smiling at each other for a few more moments with Gina's heart beating like an earthquake, he took her hand and kissed it softly again and said, "It has been more pleasure than I can relate to meet you, dearest Gina. I sincerely hope that your day is as wonderful as you've already made mine, and that we may meet again." He bowed slightly as he rose. She gave him a sweet wave and a warm smile, her heart still pounding. As he turned to go, she watched him walk away and took in his amazing body. She was sure he worked out. He was a bit older than her, but in incredible shape. She was embarrassed to catch herself staring at his crotch in his reflection in the glass as he walked inside. Married women were not meant to examine the equipment of men besides their husbands, and she almost never allowed herself to do such things. But it had been impossible to not notice. He evidently had much more packed in there than she had thought typical. She was flushed and breathing very hard. Unable to concentrate on the book any longer, she gave up and went up to her suite on shaky legs. She had grown accustomed to taking care of her own needs even before separating from Tony, but she had never felt so driven by need. Quickly stripping off all her clothes and stretching out on the couch, she caressed herself in ways she imagined Edgar's large, gentle but firm hands might. As she drifted between images of Tony and images of Edgar, the conflict in her mind gave way to the excitement she had felt when Edgar was touching her; how easily she had let him take her hand and how small she felt in his large hand and-forgetting Tony completely—she released like never before. While it had overtaken her so suddenly—uncontrollably—it took many minutes for her to get her breathing under control and for the room to come back into her consciousness. When she had calmed down, she became aware of a wet spot on the couch cushion. She sat up alarmed and stared at it. She wondered whether she had peed in her excitement. She examined the spot and realized that her erotic release had been expressed from her as fluid. She had read about that, but never experienced it. Her heart fluttered again thinking that Edgar had done that to her, in a way he wasn't aware of. She was fascinated with him but knew that she had to control herself, her thoughts, her awakening body. She tried to make herself feel guilty for her adulterous reverie, but dismissed the thought as excessive: it was merely playful fantasy. After cleaning up the spot and turning the cushion, she sat for a long while thinking about Edgar. For the rest of that day she gave no thought to Tony, but kept daydreaming about Edgar and hoping she would see him again. Over the next week, she did see him a few times, but only managed to exchange quick greetings and many warm smiles. On the one occasion when they did get to speak for a few minutes, he complimented her endlessly and had her blushing and too shy to properly respond. She was so excited she could barely stand still. When he was sure her mood was light enough to take it as simple flirting, he leaned in and whispered right in her ear, "I'm beginning to hope that you don't rush back to your husband too soon." Watching her reaction—bashful sweetness—he added, "I wonder if I might sometime persuade you to accompany me of an evening?" She gasped softly and after struggling with what to say, simply nodded, too embarrassed (or too excited) to speak. Her heart was pounding as it had been when they met, and she caught herself acting schoolgirl coy with him. She stood as close to him as she dared, trembling. When he took her hand and again ever so softly kissed her fingers, she nearly fainted. As soon as she had watched him walk out of sight she ran upstairs and tore off her clothes. There were no conflicting thoughts about Tony this time, only the delicious image of Edgar's huge chocolate hand carefully holding her dainty fingers and his soft lips just touching her skin. Every time she pictured that beautiful contact—her hand carefully dwarfed in his and the barely detectable touch of his lips—it made her shiver and drop what she was doing to pleasure herself. The next day when she realized that he lived in the apartment above her, she spent most of the day in her bed dreaming about him, his touch, his powerful arms, his scent, his smile... She finally learnt to keep a towel near her at all times when thinking about Edgar, as her spraying orgasms were becoming routine. Her conscience did nag at her somewhat, but over the course of days it got easier and she did so enjoy the rapture of mentally reliving his thrilling touch. She gave herself one orgasm merely imagining that she might have one spontaneously the next time he touched her hand. It seemed almost possible; she nearly had that last time. What would he think if she did? She wondered if he knew that she ran to relieve herself every time she saw him. Tony was completely forgotten by then, replaced by her Edgar. She was excited continuously, wondering if he really would ask her out on a date. She tried not to think about having to turn him down; but in the back of her thoughts, she wondered if she would. On Friday night Gina saw Edgar with a woman, chatting in the courtyard. She looked kind of like Gina, with hair the same colour and a similar style. She was dressed much flirtier and seemed very relaxed with Edgar. Gina felt a slight twinge of jealousy and scolded herself for being silly. Tony was her man, and she really felt that Edgar deserved to be happy with someone who could give herself to him fully. She smiled, wondering if this woman was 'the one' for kind, charming Edgar. Perhaps she could escape her fantasy fixation if he had a girlfriend. After a few minutes, the couple went inside to use the elevator. Gina thought about her fantasies of Edgar touching her and went up to her suite. She felt a bit guilty for a moment, but then tried to sort out some perspective: It would harm no one if she kept imagining something that couldn't happen. It gave her pleasure; more than she could have any other way without actually harming her marriage or her husband or anyone else. She resolved that when she was with Tony from now on, she would freely allow herself to fantasize about Edgar. Tony would never know of it, and she knew that she would always have incredible orgasms imagining Edgar touching her, kissing her. She would thrill Tony with the depth of her bliss, and make him feel better. He would enjoy it more if they would share more passion without him knowing the true source of it. Tony may even become her dream man and give her those squirting orgasms without her picturing anyone else, even her beloved Edgar. Beloved? Was she in love with him? She had been struck by him. He was unlike any man she had ever met. She had been thinking of him since the moment they met. Seeing her with that other woman, she now pictured herself with him like that. She knew that they could not be together, though she was almost sure that Edgar would gladly have her if she were free. She was in a fog, allowing herself to actually fantasize about flirting with Edgar, even planning it with some detail. Could it really hurt anything? She was only fantasizing; it helped her release with passionate abandon and hurt no one. Still wrestling with her feelings about the ethics of the fantasy, she heard the couple upstairs laughing and carrying on, now obviously in bed. Gina moved over to the slightly open glass door at the back of the apartment, in her bedroom. She leaned her head against the opening, trying to hear the couple above. As they evidently became more familiar together up there, they made more intense sounds of arousal. The excitement of the sensual sounds from above made it impossible for Gina to do anything but imagine Edgar touching her. She visualized wearing a flirty dress like the girl she saw, and Edgar looking at her and seeing her that way. Would he want her like that? Would he want to do what he was doing to that other girl? Without realizing it, her fingers had pulled her lips open and were now pulling back the hood exposing her burning clit—jutting out, desperate for contact, glowing with her heat. She imagined Edgar kissing her on the neck and telling her how sexy she looked while feeling her moist excitement, her intense urgent heat. When she realized that her fingers were caressing and exposing her she closed her eyes and imagined it were Edgar touching her this way. She began to go further with her innocent fantasizing, daring to go beyond the edges of imagining flirting into the heavenly reverie of foreplay with him. She found herself driven harder this time; the excitement was more than she could manage. She imagined Edgar's tongue touching the woman's clit and then saw ever so clearly Edgar's head between her own legs, tasting her excitement, delicately teasing her clit. As soon as she imagined it, she went over the edge in a quick eruption of orgasm. It was a bit of a shock as it burst over her so quickly, leaving her shaking—still feeling her open wetness. But it barely slowed her down; her fingers never stopped emulating her image of his tongue. She found herself uncontrollably adding fuel with more profound, shocking detail. What would happen if she told Edgar that she and Tony had decided to get a divorce? That she was available? Would he flirt with her? Would he pursue her? The possibilities made her legs shake with excitement. Just the thought of being courted by him made her even weaker with desperation. She imagined him whispering in her ear how much he wanted her, how he couldn't wait to finally have her, and it set off another small orgasm. As she got her breathing back under control—fingers still in steady motion, fantasy tongue still licking her all over—she heard them talking again as they got more intense. The girl said something to him, and he called her something that sounded like 'Gina.' The girl corrected him with, "Doris." "Sorry sweetie; you remind me of someone," he apologized. With this swirling in her head Gina started cumming almost steadily. Her legs buckled and as she struggled to steady herself she collapsed against the glass. Was he fantasizing that the girl was Gina? Was he imagining making love to her? This made her heart pound even harder and kept her fingers moving out of control inside her and all around her inner lips and teasing her clit in effigy of her Edgar. The fantasy was taking over her mind, her conscience. She found that she now needed to imagine that it wasn't just idle dreaming, but wholly possible. She needed to make it seem like she could really do it. Surface Tension Ch. 01 A prospect formed in her now very confused, excited mind: could she stay married to Tony, and spread her legs for Edgar? Was she capable of that much excitement and passion? She tried to convince herself that she could never do that; that it wasn't fair to her husband. She had made vows to him. But she wasn't convincing herself and in her excitement she visualized it. Very vividly. It was giving her the excuse to freely imagine lovingly giving her sex to Edgar without hurting Tony. Tony had let her go, even for a time. Other girls have pleasure with other men while separated from their husbands. Many don't wait to separate. Could she be like those girls? Would her conscience allow that? Could she really give in to physical need? Could she stop it? Did she want to? Could she allow herself to believe that she and Tony would not get back together? Could she believe it just long enough to do something desperate? Was it fair to her to have to sit there—by Tony's choice—being tortured with passionate desire and burning need with no hope of relief? He had made vows to her, too. And where was he when she was in such agonizing need? Then again, would Edgar accept her this way—only half of her? She then wondered if she could do that while leaving anything left for Tony. If she shared her body with Edgar, he might have her soul as well. He had her passion and excitement. Did he already have her soul? Did she even want Tony back? Reminding herself that all this was fantasy gave her the willpower to allow herself to imagine it, and she edged inexorably closer to a breathtaking orgasm. Shocking herself, she pulled her fingers out of her puffy wet lips and slid off her wedding ring. It was her symbolic fantasy gesture of giving herself to Edgar. As the sounds upstairs got more intense, she could hear the woman cry out, "Please. I'm fertile, you need to pull out. Cum on my tummy, honey." Edgar's deep, commanding voice said, "God, I want to cum in you..." Their movements resumed for a minute until the woman gasped, "Please! I can't have a baby!" Between thrusts he grunted, "Love to give you a child my sweet—." Again, it sounded like he had called the girl 'Gina.' "Doris," the girl again agitatedly corrected him. It was the first time in her life that Gina genuinely wanted a man to get her pregnant. She had never even completely considered the concept before; it had always been an abstraction for the future. She sincerely wished it were her up there spread for Edgar, willingly taking him inside her. She wanted him to give her a baby. Imagining herself in Edgar's bed—ovulating for him, open, lovingly accepting his seed deep into her—Gina could control herself no longer and thrashed wildly, squirting all over the carpet in frenzied burst of orgasm. The beautiful notion of him impregnating her had come out of nowhere and run over her like a train. It had triggered the orgasm of her life and left her immobile, breathless. She realized that her release had been so violent that she had cried out in her ecstasy. She struggled to control her gasping; realizing that all noise in the suite above had stopped. As it gradually occurred to her that in her passion she had breathlessly cried out his name—"Edgar"—she started to panic. Her heart was pounding even harder—now in fear. As the desperate yearning to be inseminated by Edgar that had consumed her yielded to shocked worry and mortified embarrassment, she was gripped with the horror that it had gone too far; that her passion for her fantasy lover was out of control. Not only had she been consumed by this obsession with him—far from being a harmless fantasy anymore—but she was now sure that Edgar knew how she felt and almost certain that he felt the same way. Shaking, she cleaned things up in a panic and quickly got dressed and hurried out to go for a walk. She was nearly in tears with crippling terror, fading excitement, mounting frustration, and deepening sorrow. She was utterly shocked that she had been so completely consumed with the blissful craving to be inseminated by Edgar. She nearly collapsed realizing that if she had been with him earlier, she might have completely lost control of both her senses and conscience and willingly allowed him—almost a complete stranger—to impregnate her. She knew she would never have been able to do what the other girl did and insist that he pull out. Well clear of the apartment building she struggled to get to a bench by the library, which she fell onto and broke into tears. She couldn't control her trembling. As she realized that she would still do it if he wanted to, she was terrified. If anything happened between her and Edgar, she knew that she would beg him to impregnate her. Knowing what he had said with the girl in his suite, she knew that he would lovingly oblige her. She gasped in horror that she might fantasize about their mating from now on, uncontrollably. She could easily believe that whenever she was aroused from now on, she would be imagining it—the moment of conceiving Edgar's child. It was the most intense pleasure she had felt, imagining him seeding her. Could they already be in love with each other, just from that first meeting and catching a few glimpses of each other and exchanged smiles? Could she really want to have his baby? She had a clear thought: if Edgar held her and whispered in her ear that he wanted to get her pregnant, she would beg him take her, to mount her, to fertilize her egg and make a baby with her. How did she get like this? It must be pure lust. She didn't really love Edgar, did she? He was warm and sincere, yet devastatingly charming. He was attractive and very sexy, and his powerful presence suggested virility; robust vitality; commanding procreant vigour. The impressive lump she had seen in the crotch of his trousers had burned into her mind after all. She had never really noticed an attraction to black men before, and he had commanded her attention. There was certainly dangerously uncontrollable desire. But did she love him? Sitting there trying to stop shaking, she thought that maybe she really did. She loved everything about him and she was convincing herself that he loved her, but he wasn't her husband. She had to accept that what physically felt more right than anything could morally be so terribly wrong. She had to stay away from Edgar until she could feel Tony's arms around her; could feel him take her back and reaffirm their love and keep her safe from her perilous weakness. She knew that she missed Tony even more than she had at first believed. She had a need to share passion and pleasure with her man. After collecting herself and getting up, she walked again for a long while. At length she stopped and pulled out her phone, hands still shaking. There was certainly more to this than lust, but maybe the larger part of it was her need to have a baby. Her hormones didn't care whether the father was Tony or Edgar; it was time to make a baby. It suddenly seemed such a likely explanation for the awakening of her passion out of the awkward doldrums of her adolescence and the mediocrity of her and Tony's tepid marital couplings She knew that she would be ovulating in 2 days, and needed to be with Tony. She needed to make a child with him and give him everything; to give him back her body and soul; to convince him that the time was right to make a family with her. It was what she needed and felt so strongly that it was what they both needed—to be a family. It occurred to her that her fantasy for Edgar had likely only been dangerously misplaced desperation to be inseminated by her husband. While far from reassured that she could make her new mission work, she bravely resolved to try her best. She dare not imagine the consequences of failure as she dialed. Continued...