0 comments/  7684 views/  0 favorites

Erotico

By: mau_mau69



It was a cold dawn. I lay on my bed like a helpless baby in a womb. I folded my legs and placed it near my torso projecting a fetal position to have the ephemeral warmth I needed. 

Although I wrapped my body with blanket, I could still feel the chill of the dawn as if ice-cold hands exploring every hill, mountain, and forest of my shivering body. Deep inside me burned a desire to have someone whom I could embrace and together share our bodily ardor. How I craved for someone to offer me such warmth!

To escape the tormenting wintry touch of nature, I let my mind travel into the world of fantasy where my frozen body was emancipated by the blazing fire of longing deep within me. I was imagining that someone came to me and bathed me with warmth.

In the middle of my fantasy, I felt someone caressing the part below my navel. My thighs even felt a faint touch! It was terrific...ah! Oh!

I resolved to open my eyes to see who did such obscene yet sensually arousing deed. Lying on my bed, I straightened my body then I removed my blanket. Slowly I clutched the side garter of my underwear with my sweaty hands and carefully pushed my underwear down reaching my knees (I usually sleep only with my underwear on). I spread open my well-shaped legs and focused my vision forward. Finally I saw him. There he was...the one who brought a delightful stimulus all over my body.

I saw him bare-naked and faceless! A slit-like opening could be seen at the upper portion of his pinkish head. His head has no hair at all; however, kinky and shiny hair was sprouting like wild black vines at the lowest part of his body. Fully awakened from his long and dark sleep, he was rigidly standing in front of me, enticing me to do it.

My heart began to pitter-patter as I gasped for breath...because of fear or because of excitement? Only my body knew. A turbulent clash between my psyche and the somatic element of my being befell. Should I give in to this irresistible temptation? My mind said "no" yet my body was willing to dive into the pool of enticement. In the end, my body reigned supreme over my opposing mind.

Suddenly, I just found my right hand, as if it has a mind of its own, touching my seducer's head. 

I was caressing his head gently oh...it was so smooth. I shivered not because of the cold ambience but because of excitement certainly! I could feel warm blood flowing rapidly in my every vein and artery circulating and bringing ample heat to all parts of my body. Then a sort of feverish feeling came. I was getting hot...oh!

I started to remove my underwear and deliberately stroked his head up and down. Oh... it was splendid! He seemed to respond to my stroking for his body became harder and more rigid. I thought he was enjoying what I was doing to him as much as I enjoyed doing it.

Ah...oh...oh...oh...ah...ump...ump...ah...oh...ah... 

I stroked his body harder until his head, from pink, turned purplish as if swelling. Sweat was forming on my forehead zigzagging over my flushed face. Drops of sweat fell from my chin as I continued my wickedly pleasurable business. 

My heart started to beat harder and my breathing got heavier and deeper. Then, I noticed that my nipples became stiffer and deeper in color like two identical dark marks embedded on my chest.

A milky white fluid spurted from the slit-like opening in his head. There were series of muscle spasms in his whole body and then I felt a sort of neat sensation. A good sensual feeling came flooding over me. In his every spurt, I drowned into an intense ecstasy. I closed my eyes and succumbed to a sensual delight! 

The pleasurable feeling lasted for a bout ten seconds. Afterward, I felt relaxed all over. My heartbeat and breathing gradually returned to normal.

I got a piece of cloth and wiped the lotion-like fluid that had adhered on the surface of his head, body and hair. 

From his stiff and hard demeanor, he shrunk and became soft and supple. I thought he was tired as I was so I let him sleep in the comfort of my thighs with two rounded and wrinkled pillows, secured by my underwear.

I was exhausted and wanted to go back to sleep. The coldness of the ambience was still present and had greatly overwhelmed me. So I got my blanket and wrapped myself with it. I then returned to my fetal position. Between my thighs, I could feel him sound asleep.

A cold wind touched my face and kissed my ears as if whispering, "It's cold. You need warmth. Why don't you do it again?" 

I replied silently in my mind, "No, not now. I'm tired and so is he. I think I can still bear your cold embrace. Maybe next time..."

MAYBE NEXT TIME...

Eroticum 101



I met my wife Jessie in an Art's class during college. It was one of those moments, now looking back, that I knew even then would change my life. Though to what extent it did, and had...I certainly didn't know at the time. The only thing I did know, the moment I saw her, I knew I was going to marry her. No matter what.

Oddly enough, she was the artist. I was merely modeling, in the nude mind you, for a few extra bucks on the side. I was myself a struggling writer, not an artist. I never had been very shy, a fairly decent body all things considered, though I was certainly no body builder either. But then the arts instructor hadn't been looking for that either when she approached me.

"Danny? Would you be interested in posing for a particular class of mine?" She'd asked. "You will be nude however...think you can handle that?" Like I said, nudity wasn't a problem for me, and so I assured her I could do that. "Can I ask you another favor?" She then asked, actually blushing a little. "But only if you're interested," she then added hedging her bet a little. "It would require something else, but you'd get paid additional for doing it," she hinted.

"What's that?" I asked curiously, wondering, as she seemed obviously hesitant to even bring it up.

"Well, once a week, I also teach an erotic arts class. So not only is there nudity involved with that, but you'd also have to be comfortable enough to sport an erection during the class. If you've got a girlfriend who might be interested in joining you, that would make things easier on you perhaps, though I do have a number of girls who've also signed up to be models for us as well."

I had to think about that one, though only for a moment as she told me it paid a hundred dollars an hour, and with the class being two hours long, that was an easy eight hundred a month I could use, just for posing nude...with an erection. Cindy, the instructor, quickly informed me there wouldn't actually be any sexual relations, just simulated expressions. More like, something was just about to happen, or just had. That kind of stuff. I figured I could handle that, though maintaining an erection for two hours wasn't going to be easy. Until she told me that very often, the artists themselves very often drew one another also posing nude as they sat drawing. So perhaps, knowing and seeing that, might keep me more or less aroused. Though keeping myself stimulated was obviously expected. I figured, "What the hell? Why not try it at least once, see how things went?" I currently wasn't seeing anyone either, so the potential for perhaps hooking up with someone seemed promising. I had no idea just how promising that would turn out to truly be, as that's when I first saw Jessie.

And the first time I even saw Jessie, I saw her nude too.

Not everyone was, just a handful, three women and one man out of a class of twelve as it turned out. I had just come out of the dressing room only wearing a robe, which I would soon be removing. Oddly enough, I'd actually popped a Viagra a short while ago, and had been sitting there looking at porn mags, working up a nice stiff erection prior to walking out. The first night would be solo. Five or six different positions, but all of which would be clearly showing off my exposed aroused member. Approaching the small platform, I soon assumed the position Cindy had asked me to do first, laying down on my back, one leg bent at the knee, one hand behind my head, the other not quite touching my hard cock, though appearing as though I was just about to. I was asked to hold this particular pose for about fifteen minutes while all about me took up whatever tools they preferred using. Whether it was simply a charcoal sketch, watercolor and brush, or oils. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessie, though I didn't even know her name at the time. Though I daresay, I was too busy looking at her cute luscious body, which was helping to keep me focused, not to mention, stiff and straight for the class.

I guess you could say she had medium sized tits, neither too small, nor too large. Light tan areolas, slightly darker than the rest of her flesh, though the one thing she did have, and which clearly stood out, was very long thick nipples that seemed to be perpetually hard as she sat there drawing and sketching me throughout the night. I know, because I hardly took my eyes off them whenever I had the opportunity to look at her for any length of time.

She had dark shoulder length hair, which she wore in a ponytail. I later discovered she had almost emerald green eyes, a small dimple in her left cheek whenever she smiled, though at the moment she too was focused and serious as she sketched various positions and poses of me on her pad, tearing them off one after the other as she discarded some, drawing others. It was after that first class was over that I boldly approached her, introducing myself, and only then learning her name.

"Hi, I'm Danny. Mind if I see your work?" I asked.

Needless to say, I was a little surprised, and embarrassed as each and every piece she'd done...showed differing angles of my cock only. Nothing else...just my cock, top to bottom, from the side, some large, some exaggerated, (obviously so) and one even looking like something Picasso himself might have done. I didn't see much of a resemblance in that one, though Cindy had commented favorably on it while looking over Jessie's sketches, which is when she then further introduced the two of us though we had basically done that already. I did learn however, according to Cindy, that Jessie was one of her more promising students and really had an eye for detail. By the few sketches I had seen, I could clearly see that...even if they were all pictures of my cock, and nothing else.

"You do good work," I had told her after Cindy had left the two of us to get even better acquainted with one another.

"You have a nice cock," she'd countered. "Make's it even more interesting to sketch when they look like yours does. Lots of differing veins, angles, especially when it throbs, like it was obviously doing earlier," she said smiling at me. "Coffee?"

I laughed. She had a way about her, which I was just beginning to discover. Almost honest to a fault, certainly open-minded as I would also learn. But she had a few deep dark secrets about herself too, that I would also eventually find out.

But for now, it was a late night coffee together at a local hangout, where I would discover that the girl sitting across from me, was the one I had every intention of eventually marrying.

Yeah, I know. Love at first sight. Something that only happens in fairytales and romantic movies perhaps. But it in fact happened to me. The only problem was, could I accept and come to terms with Jessie's passions, her quirks, kinks and interests. I would soon find out.

**

I figured the evening was coming to a close for the two of us as we'd already passed on another refill of coffee. Jessie was already gathering her things in preparation for leaving as I tossed a few bills on the table. She smiled, looking at me, and then said. "I'd like to watch you come. I only live a block away from here, care to come back to my place with me?" She asked as though we were discussing the weather or something. Even then, I wasn't sure I'd heard her right either, figuring she'd meant something else, or had misspoken the words in some way. I know by the confused expression on my face, she was realizing that. "Seriously, I'd like to watch you come, you know...spurt, squirt. Come on, I'll explain it to you on the way home."

And just like that, I followed my future wife out the door of the café' back to her place, wondering as we walked side by side, now hand in hand...if she was merely flirting with me, or teasing me. Until she actually explained herself as we walked.

"Here's the thing," she began. "And I was being serious when I asked you that. You see, for as long as I can remember now, I've had this fascination, this incredible desire and interest in seeing a man come. I love seeing it, watching it, making it happen...or just sitting back and watching it as they make it happen. I know, some might think it's too freaky, too weird, which is why I also don't date very much. Not too many guys I know are eager to accept that, unless they're the only one doing it for me, but that's not what I'm into," she said openly. Like I said, with no reason not to be honest about it, she was...especially since we'd just met, and she was just letting me know in no uncertain terms what she enjoyed seeing, and why. "Anyway, like I told you earlier, you have a nice looking cock, and I've been wondering all evening long what it would look like when it finally squirted, so...you interested?"

After two hours of sitting there with an erection in the first place, and now this...I was once again very hard, walking next to her, realizing we were headed back to her place, where I was actually going to come for her, though I of course had other hopes at the time too. Only some of which were actually accomplished...that night. We soon reached her apartment, which was on the 1st floor, and soon followed her inside where she almost immediately directed me to sit on her couch, after removing all my clothes first, though she did as well. Like I said, I had other hopes in mind, which she soon clarified as she then took a seat in front of me. "Will it help if I masturbate in front of you while you do so for me?" She then asked. I realized then, she had been very serious, nothing else was even remotely hinted at or suggested, making it very clear to me once again, that it was all about seeing me cum. That, and nothing more.

Obviously I told her it would indeed help of course. I mean hell, if nothing else, I'd at least get to see her doing that. After all, we'd just met...and maybe this was just her way of getting to know me better before venturing on into anything else. Though I was still a little nervous and hesitant at first, until she settled back in her own chair, and began touching and toying with herself right there in front of me. After that, it got pretty easy for me from there.

"So, do you usually come a lot? Big squirter? Or dribbler?" she asked, though at least her tone of voice had taken on a rather lusty edge to it.

"Depends I guess," I said almost matter of factly. "On how horny I am."

She smiled at that. "Well I hope then you're nice and horny, because I'd really enjoy seeing that nice hard cock of yours squirt...a lot," she informed me. "So...whatever I can do to help with that...just let me know."

"Well, watching you doing that is helping a lot towards that," I assured her. "But honestly?"

"Yeah?" She replied inquisitively, almost eager to hear.

"Having someone else get me off, I mean...besides myself, seems to always trigger a much, much bigger load."

"I've noticed that...about most men," she agreed. "So...would you like me to jerk you off instead of yourself then?"

"If you wouldn't mind..." I smiled back, grinning then as she stood up, crossing the room and now sitting beside me, her small delicate hand wrapping itself around my fairly meaty cock.

"Don't be afraid to tell me what you like the best," she assured me. "Tell me what you want me to do, and how to do it, so that it feels the very best, and more importantly, so that it makes you come the hardest and biggest for me that you can."

I actually enjoyed telling her what I liked and wanted her to do, which she then did. Though I also told her of course, it would also help a lot if she let me touch her a little too.

"Ok, I don't really have a problem with you doing that, just so long as you know, I have no intention of having sexual intercourse, or oral sex with you...just now anyway. So mutual touching is fine...for now, if you're ok with that."

Needless to say...I was.

**

Five weeks went by. And though you couldn't actually say we were dating or anything, especially since the only time I saw her was the night of our erotic arts class, it inevitably ended up with the two of us going back to her place. Where we continued our somewhat reserved routine of playing with one another until we had both orgasmed. It was our sixth session, and one in which had gotten a bit more elaborate, and erotic...though we'd been well-warned beforehand the previous week. Cindy had brought in another model, one who was equally open-minded, and certainly up for the challenge of more provocative and stimulating poses. One of which was having her kneeling over me, her mouth just millimeters away from my hard stiff cock. Twice, she had actually licked it, teasingly, once glancing over towards Jessie as she sat only a few feet away, busily sketching, catching the quick fleeting lick of my cock, and smiling at me upon seeing it!

I had returned the favor somewhat, likewise posing in a hard to hold "69" position, not quite really doing anything, but so damn fucking close to doing it that I was literally leaking like a sieve, and so was she. I had almost absentmindedly snatched up a bit of the woman's sweetness with my tongue as she hovered above me, a thin streamer of her glistening female drool suddenly forming. I watched it in abject fascination as it extended, lengthened...only millimeters away from my mouth. Seeing it, Jessie came scrambling over, sitting inches away from us herself now, and began sketching that as furiously as she ever had before the string of girl cum finally parted actually dripping down into my waiting open mouth.

"Alright class, that will be enough for tonight," Cindy stated only moments later, though she too had seemingly stood there mesmerized, watching this erotic unplanned for spectacle. She had walked over at that point, looking over Jessie's shoulder at what she had drawn. "Now that...is as erotic as it cums...pun intended," she added to that, blushing and giggling somewhat embarrassedly, yet obviously aroused.

As everyone began to leave, including my nude model companion, Jessie cornered Cindy briefly, asking if she could have a moment of privacy with her after everyone had left. Curious, I prepared to leave myself too however, waiting outside for her, though she quickly motioned towards me, letting me know as she did that whatever it was she wanted to talk to Cindy about, included me as well. Remaining as I was, though putting my robe on, I sat nearby in a chair as Cindy quickly ushered out the remaining students, returning back over to where we sat waiting for her.

"You wanted to see me about something?" She asked.

"Actually, I have a bit of a favor to ask, and was wondering if you'd agree to do something for me...for us," she now added looking towards me, though I of course had no idea what it was she was talking about.

Cindy looked at me, her face still a bit flushed, and then back to Jessie again. "Perhaps, what is it?" She then asked, though I heard a nervous catch to her tone of voice upon saying that.

"This!" Jessie said holding up the last sketch she'd just actually finished. It was stark in contrast, the details almost photogenic in nature. How she had captured it the way that she had was simply amazing. That cum-drool drip, parting even as she finished drawing it, the shape of my mouth and lips preparing to receive it, the subtle folds, intimate in every detail of the young woman's gaping pussy hovering just above me. "This...is the moment before the moment," she said speaking excitedly, even more so than normal for her when she was usually in the "zone" as I called it. "What I want now...is the exact moment of ecstasy!"

Cindy looked at her, eyebrows arched in question. "I'm not sure I fully understand what it is you're asking of me," she stated.

"What I am asking, is for the two of you to give me that moment of ecstasy. Yours...and his," she spat, even more excited now. "I want to capture that penultimate moment in time!"

"I'm not even sure that's actually possible..." Cindy stammered once again looking towards me. I was only then starting to get a sense of what Jessie was asking here, curiously aroused, yet humbly silent on the matter, wondering in fact if I was about to experience something incredibly magnificent here, knowing Jessie.

"I'm asking...because I feel like you of all people know what I'm going for here," Jessie began once more, this time speaking in less animated tones, softer in speech, questioning, not quite pleading with our instructor. "No one ever need know," she then offered as reassurance, hopefully. "But like I said, you Cindy, of all people know what I'm capable of doing here, what I can do...but only with your help."

Cindy thought about it for a moment, suddenly checking her watch. "Ok, I can give you an hour, but no more than that. Will that be...sufficient?"

Jessie's eyes smiled in delightful surprise that Cindy had actually agreed to this, though the specific details even then hadn't as yet been fully discussed. "More than," Jessie said. 

"So...what is it you want me...want us," Cindy said looking towards me once again, "to do?"

"What I want...is for the two of you, to pleasure one another to the fullest degree, no holding back. I want to capture each and every moment leading up to that. And then...though I'll need you to prepare and forewarn me, I'll want you to tell me when it is that you're both actually going to climax. Yours...and his. I will only have moments I know. But I know that I can capture that instant in my mind, and then draw it. So...will the two of you do that for me? Please?"

"No holding back then right?" Cindy asked already beginning to unbutton the blouse she was wearing. You want to capture it all...from the beginning, to the end."

"Yes," Jessie said already laying out several pads, pencils and charcoals in preparation for that. "And don't either of you worry about me, or where I am, or what I'm doing. I'll most likely be walking around you both while you're doing this anyway. All I ask...is that you both honestly do your level best to truly pleasure the other person. Will you both do that for me? Please?"

"You really want me to do this?" I finally spoke, needing to know that if I did this, I was indeed doing it for her, and not so much for myself, though admittedly, as Cindy finally stood before me now, entirely naked, I was quite happy to accommodate her request to the best of my abilities.

"Yes, even to the point of fucking one another, if you want to. But only as long as you don't actually come inside her. I need to see that. I need to witness it the very moment it begins to happen, for either one of you," she further instructed us. "Beyond that...just enjoy yourselves as though I wasn't even here."

Obviously, this went well beyond anything I had done so far in class, much of which, up until now anyway, had been damn borderline. But now, Jessie was asking for far more "explicit" material to work with, and with our very own instructor no less!

"No faces right?" Cindy asked one last time, as she crawled up onto the cushioned pedestal I'd been posing on all night.

"Nothing recognizable, no," Jessie assured her. "I'm not really a portrait artist anyway, and that's not what I'm shooting for here. What I want to capture, is the purest form of sensuality and erotica imaginable."

"Well in that case...come here Danny. Teacher needs to suck that magnificent cock of yours!"

Although it didn't seem possible at first, I somehow managed to lose myself in the moment, forgetting all about Jessie as she silently slithered about and around us. Only the occasional scratches of pencil on paper alerted us to her presence. Before long, Cindy and I were about as involved as two lovers could be, pleasuring and teasing one another towards the pinnacle of climatic bliss. Only when I actually entered her, finally fucking her, did I look up glancing about for Jessie, though she had then moved further into the shadows. I could see her form, her own nude form as she stood there watching us, one hand actually down between her legs, but I could not see her face. I returned to Cindy, fucking her deeply, thrusting harder and harder into her as she soon locked her legs around my ass, meeting my thrusts, crying out deliriously now.




Eroticum 101



"Oh god...ok, oh fuck....fuck, I'm going to...to...CUM!" She announced crying out as Jessie seemingly appeared out of nowhere, hovering only inches away from us now, shoving me in fact out of the way. In disbelief, I saw her scramble between Cindy's outstretched legs, her own fingers taking over where my own cock had been only moments ago. The intensity of her face as she looked at Cindy's quivering cunt, her orgasm only then beginning to seize her soul. How she did it, how she managed it, I perhaps will never fully understand. But Jessie watched intently as Cindy came, and then the moment her orgasm finally began to ebb, she once more sprinted away, snatching up her pad and pencils. Within moments, she had captured perfectly the exact moment of Cindy's orgasmic pleasure. Her entire body writhing in ecstasy, her pussy lips captured in raw animal lust, the dew of her spending, the trace of the woman's cream even then making an appearance. Somehow, almost magically, she had perfectly captured the entire moment. 

And then it was my turn.

**

Even I had to admit, Cindy knew how to give great head. She didn't just lick or suck my cock, she worshipped it, made love to it...to me. And all the while she knelt there doing that, Jessie sketched, furiously, as though in an entirely different world. As fast as she'd finish one sketch, tearing it off the pad, tossing it onto the ground, she began another. Wordlessly, yet constantly moving, circling, getting different views and angles of the same ongoing thing...which for me was nothing short of a world-class blowjob.

Even Cindy seemed reluctant to finally have to sit up, removing her mouth from me when I warned her...warned them both I was almost there.

"Maybe...next time," she almost purred, letting me know in an instant she was more than game for doing this again sometime. Jessie had heard her as well, already coming over so she could be close enough to watch me when I came.

"Maybe next time I'll let you take him in your mouth, but only if you allow it to dribble out after that," she told our instructor. "But right now...I need to see it shoot, see it squirt...see it the exact moment that it sprays up into the air!"

Cindy continued to jack me off now. Already my balls tight in anticipation of their release. This somewhat surreal conversation taking place between the two women, both of them expectantly waiting for me to come now, the two of them in fact erotically urging me on.

"Did you enjoy her sweet lips on your dick baby?" Jessie asked, speaking far more intimately to me that she ever had, not once before ever calling me by that so personal or as affectionate of a name. "Did you like the way she sucked and licked that nice hard stiff dick of yours? Did it make you want to come? To squirt? To spray all that hot sweet naughty fuck juice for us?" She pressed.

"Yeah honey...do it for us," Cindy said joining in, still jacking me, softly, almost too teasingly, though it was also just the way I liked it too, even without telling her that I did. Just this continuous steady, slow up and down stroking, one hand jacking, pulling, the other knobbing, caressing and teasing the head. "You gonna shoot hard? Big...for us?" She'd added, just as Jessie was. Just as my balls seemed to breathe in...ready to implode.

"Oh...fuck!" Was all I managed...and then stars suddenly filled my head.

**

I'll be the first one to admit. Drawing, capturing...an image of an actual "cum shot" didn't seem to be all that awe inspiring, even though it sure as hell felt like it. But somehow, she managed it. I had indeed cum, a lot...and yes, it was an amazing sensation, an even more amazing spectacle perhaps too as I continued to erupt over and over again, more so than I had in a very, very long time. It was frankly...all over the place.

The moment I had quit spurting however, Jessie moved off, snatching up her pads and began furiously sketching, as though reliving the moment for me, all over again. When she had finished, actually looking exhausted herself, spent...as though having climaxed as well, only then did she show Cindy and I what she had in fact captured on paper.

It was almost magical. How anyone could have done what she did...especially with it being the actual moment of ejaculation itself, and then several repeated others...well, it was actually surreal, almost dreamlike in a way, the way she had done it. Even Cindy sat there, almost stupefied, thumbing through page after page, after page of almost near perfect, life-like drawings.

"Jessie..." Cindy spoke her voice obviously quivering with emotion and excitement. "I honestly have to say, this is some of the most amazing, incredible work I've ever seen anyone do...including you. This is without a doubt, your very best work," she looked up, blushing, even laughing just a bit. "I don't know that there's someone who would be bold enough to display this, to show this...but if you'll let me, I'd like to start asking around. You've got real talent here Jessie, even if it's fairly explicit, as these are...in nature. But just the same, these are too good to simply tuck away in some dark corner and forget about."

"I'm not ready for that yet," Jessie said taking them all back from her. "Maybe one day...but not yet. Not until I know, and I'm sure this truly is the very best I can do."

Cindy actually looked slightly disappointed upon hearing that as we all three...collected ourselves and finally left together.

"Anytime you...ah...need to practice like that again, I'm in," Cindy said kissing us both on the cheek goodnight, and then heading off towards her car.

I walked Jessie home again, though after what we'd just been through I figured things were pretty much done for the evening. Thus, I was surprised when she turned to me at her door, once more inviting me in. Though it was the way she stated it, that let me know otherwise.

"I need you to fuck me," she said, and then turned unlocking her door...I followed her in with a smile on my face.

**

It was the first time I had ever spent the entire night with her, waking up next to her in bed, the memory of the incredible night of passionate love-making, still clearly etched inside my head, my own private little canvas of erotic art. We had barely gotten much sleep, though it was already well into the morning as she stirred finally waking up, smiling at me.

"I love you," she said. "I didn't mean to fall in love with you...but I did. So...I love you, take it for what it's worth."

"I love you too," I told her, meaning every word of it, surprised that she had actually said it first, and had meant it when saying it. If you had come to know Jessie as I did, she didn't say anything she didn't mean or feel...or believe in.

"I know. I've known it from the first time we met, even if you didn't then, I knew eventually you would. That's what makes what I need to tell you next, so hard."

I felt like I'd been kissed...and then slapped. The look on her face suddenly serious. "I know you love me, and I know I love you. But I think we're both going to have to try and un-love one another."

"Ok, you want to run that one by me again? You love me? And you know now that I honestly love you too? But..."

"But, yes...we can't. It won't work, I know for a fact that it won't, because I can't be...the woman, the wife, the person that you will want me to be. That's just the way it is Danny. I know myself, and I know that there are things about me, I can never change. Things I don't want to change, and won't change. And in time...because of that, you'll either come to hate me, resent me, or be disgusted with me. That's why I think it would be better to end this now, before it gets any worse than it already is."

"I think it's already worse. First...you tell me you love me, and then you're dumping me...just like that. Well sorry, not good enough. You have to tell me the reason why it won't work Jessie...you at least owe me that much."

"Ok, you want to know the reason and the truth? Well...here it is. And I'm not going to whitewash it, or sugar coat it for you either Danny. There are certain things I can promise you, and once I promise, I never, ever go back on my word. But...there are also other things, I can never promise you, things I know I can never do, things that I am sure you along with many others, would never be able to understand, or accept."

"Such as?"

Jessie rolled out of bed, naked...now pacing back and forth along side of the bed as she spoke. Me...laying there watching her, listening.

"Let's say one day we actually got married. The one thing I would promise you, and assure you I would keep my word and promise, is that I would never have an affair with anyone, or ever do anything behind your back, without your permission. And hopefully, that would go for you too," she added.

"So far so good..." I thought to myself, though there was some interesting discussion still left there on the table regarding what she'd just said...but now was not exactly the time for that either.

"To define that further Danny. I would never have oral sex, or intercourse with anyone. That I promise you. But what I can't promise you, and never will promise you is this. You know me well enough by now, that you know damn good and well what fascinates me. Always has...always will. Any opportunity I am given, that I have, that I either venture into, or even by circumstance happen upon...when it comes to seeing a man's cock squirting...then I'm going to do that. I'm going to continue to enjoy that particular fetish Danny, every chance I get. So if the circumstance presents itself, and I can jack off some guys prick, or watch him jack it off for me so I can see him cum, then I'm going to do that. And I don't think that a lot of men...including you Danny, could ever be accepting of that. Not in a so-called committed relationship, let alone marriage. So like I said...there are things I can promise you as a wife, girlfriend, or just lover, but there are other things I can't...and won't. I'd rather not put you, or anyone else in a position of having to accept that, when they honestly can't. So...now do you understand and see what I mean?" She finally stood, hands beneath her breasts, facing me, nervously, waiting for my reaction.

"So...you're telling me, this is the only thing standing between us is that...yes?"

"Yes," she said surprised at my 'so-far' calm demeanor. 

"So just as a hypothetical example here. Let's say one evening we go out to a club or something, and some guy asks you to dance. And so the two of you dance, and then he hints at doing more than that...out in the parking lot persay..." I paused looking at her, but she merely nodded her head, waiting for me to continue.

"So you would then tell him that you wouldn't fuck him, or suck him...but that you would in fact be willing to give him a handjob, mostly...just to be able to see him cum."

"Using that specific example, then yes...something like that, or close to it anyway. So yes...I would. But...it would probably be closer to the truth told this way Danny, and that's where the real difference is the way I see it. Lets' say some guy comes up to me and asks me to dance. And let's also say here...you're aware of it, and nod your head to him, telling him it's ok to ask me to do just that. The thing is, you're also then telling me...you're giving me permission too Danny. Permission to do what you now know I like doing...and will continue to do. So...we go out onto the dance floor, we're dancing. Except the reality is this. I doubt seriously he'd be the one to blatantly come right out and ask me to fuck him, or even suck him off...not like that anyway. Maybe he'd hint at it perhaps, even want it, or be thinking about it. But usually that's about all that would actually happen. Sure, maybe he'd even grab my ass or attempt to cop a feel if he felt like he could get away with it. But...if I liked him, liked him enough to want to see his cock...watch it squirt, whether he jerked it off himself, or I did...I'd actually be the one asking him if he'd allow me to do that. So you see Danny...your example, your scenario isn't quite as simple or as accurate as you describe it. It would be me Danny. Me. I'd be the one wanting to do that, asking him if he'd let me do that, let me see it...watch it. Whether you came with me to watch it as well...or not. Either way...once he agreed to it, we'd be headed outside to his car, or mine...just so I could. Now do you understand and see the difference Danny? It's not the other guys...or girls even, you have to worry about. It's me Danny. Any chance I get to see a guy cum, or see a woman's pussy squirt, then I'm going to do that Danny. Wherever, and as often as I can. Can you honestly tell me...you can live with that?"

I honestly didn't know. Not quite put like that. I mean on the one hand, she was telling me she would never ever have an affair or do anything behind my back. Yet...on the other hand, she was also telling me that as far as jerking off some other guys cock, or having him do it while she watched, wasn't part of that. 

"Like I said...maybe it's best if we..."

"No!" I said finding my voice. "Not until we've given it a chance first. Isn't that fair? Give me a chance Jessie. Let me find out how I can handle that...or not before we throw any of this away...just yet."

"So you're telling me, that you want to actually see what happens, how you respond when a situation like this actually comes up? And it will Danny...trust me. You'd be surprised at how many men, after I've carefully approached them, telling them what I want to do, are suddenly willing, ready and able to do just that. Especially the married ones Danny. The guys who for whatever reason, don't see some strange girl giving them a handjob, as actually cheating on their wives, even if some believe that it is. I personally don't care if it is...or isn't. Like I told you, some things I can promise you I won't do...no matter what. But this isn't one of them."

"Let's just say, I'm not willing to just walk away, even knowing all this Jessie. So...how about we set something up, let it happen? At least then I'll know. At least then...we'll both know for sure."

"OK, I'll agree to that. But if this is going to work, either way, we have to be totally and completely open and honest with one another about it Danny. Should you feel differently, even days later...you have to tell me. Agreed?"

"Agreed. So...when do you think?" I wondered curiously, not quite sure how something like this might actually work.

"How about now?"

"Now? You mean...right now?"

"Yeah...now. The sooner we do this Danny, the better. So yeah, now. Get dressed, we're going to the beach."

**

She drove, though to my surprise, she had a nice looking little sports car. An old convertible bright red 67' Mustang, so the trip down to the beach was at least exciting in that way too. Though then telling me why she had picked the beach as a good place for this to happen as I sat next to her in the passenger seat, wondering if I'd lost my mind agreeing to do this. Still not sure how I really felt about it, or how I'd actually react to it once it happened...if it happened, though Jessie once more assured me that it would.

"The beach is actually one of the best places," she explained. "For two reasons. One...most guys need to feel like they can do it and get away with it quickly without getting caught. So wearing nothing more than a pair of swim trunks usually assures them of that. Second reason...most guys once they are approached, and with the added element of danger are actually more inclined to do it, especially if it can be handled and done without a great deal of fanfare. So you see...the beach really is the easiest place to approach some stranger in actually doing this. The only problem as I see it...is if you actually want to be there watching it, or if just the evidence will be good enough."

"I think...for this one at least, I need to be there," I told her. Even seeing evidence of the act, knowing that she'd actually jerked off some guys dick, wouldn't be enough for me to weigh and evaluate my own emotions. I knew with absolute certainty, I had to be there.

"Ok, so be it. But that might make things a little more difficult. Not impossible mind you, just a little bit more difficult. You're going to need to let me be the one to approach, and then explain. Once I do...and once things are cool with the other guy, then I'll either wave you over, or bring him to you, whichever way he's more comfortable with. Agreed? Oh...and you'll need to go along with whatever I tell him to convince him into doing it with you there, regardless of whatever that is, will you also agree to do that? Basically just stand there and watch me?"

"Agreed," I told her, still wondering at myself...but determined to go through with this, mainly because I actually did love her, and wasn't about to just throw my hands up in the air without knowing one way or the other for sure.

She knew by the look in my face I was nervous and still struggling with it as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Look Danny, it's not too late if you want to turn around and head back. But...you need to try and understand this Danny. I can't really explain it to you, why it is...why I am the way that I am, I just am. I love seeing a guys cock squirt. I love seeing different cocks, all shapes...all sizes. The way they all come and squirt so differently. You even told me, you are a bit of a breast man. I don't expect you to quit looking at other women's breasts Danny. In fact, I encourage you to do that, if that's what you like doing. Especially if it keeps you aroused and interested...in me, because of it. Why should I deny you the joy and satisfaction of doing that given the chance? I won't...never will. But the same goes for me Danny. It's got nothing to do with my love for you, or for my commitment to you. That I can give you. But this is the one thing you have to give me Danny. The understanding and permission if you will...to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself for me to see a nice hard squirting cock. There it is...plain and simple."

"Or pussy," I said reminding her that she had brought that one up earlier too.

"Or pussy," she grinned. "Though I am sure you wouldn't mind being there to see that one either."

She had me there.

"There!" She suddenly pointed ahead. We'd been sitting there in the parking lot for less than ten minutes, more or less surveying our surroundings while she looked about for what she felt like would be the best opportunity. We had seen a van pull in with four guys. They had all gotten out, and then taken out their surfboards heading down to the beach. One of them had turned suddenly, heading back towards the van, telling his friends to go on and that he'd meet them out there.

"Well? You ready? Now or never," she said one hand on the door handle.

"Go for it...just let me know, here...or there." I told her.

Jessie jumped out of the car and immediately headed over towards the van. Admittedly she looked damn fucking hot. With a nice all over tan, she had purposely chosen to wear a rather revealing white bikini, that did little if anything to cover her more than ample charms. If just the sight of her looking like that, and then offering to give some guy a quick hand job didn't do the trick, I didn't know what would. Even if the son of a bitch was gay.

I sat watching her a short distance away as she approached. The guy just then hanging up his cell phone, throwing it into the front seat of the van, only then seeing her, a look of wondrous surprise on his face as this delectable sexy woman approached him out of nowhere. They stood for a moment talking, him grinning from ear to ear one moment...and then the next, a look of total surprise on his face at his obvious good fortune based on what she'd obviously just told him. But then came another look, this one of uncertainty as she suddenly pointed back towards where I was, him following...digesting perhaps as she now obviously continued, trying to explain in some way, why I had to also be there when she did it. He at first seemed reluctant, perhaps wondering if we weren't going to roll him or something, even looking out towards the ocean where his friends had gone.




Eroticum 101



And then Jessie reached up and took her top off, exposing her breasts right there in the parking lot. One look at those, and he was smiling again, even when looking up towards me. But then more so as Jessie reached down, fondling what I knew to be his growing prick right through his swim trunks. Suddenly, the two of them were walking towards me.

Now I was the one who was nervous.

Reaching the car, Jessie simply jumped into the back right over the door, inviting "Michael" as she soon after introduced him to me, into doing the same. He did so, the two of them suddenly sitting in the back seat together. Though he was in fact now looking unsure and nervous again.

"Don't worry. Like I already told you, my boyfriend enjoys seeing me doing this, and I enjoy doing it. So just relax, sit back and enjoy it while I get you off."

"And I get to play with your tits while you do right?" He questioned.

"Yes, though just my tits, like I told you. That, and the hand job, nothing more, nothing less," she confirmed now freeing his somewhat stiff cock, though it obviously wasn't fully erect yet. Obviously the tits thing had been a selling point, though even I had to admit, had it been me she'd approached, it would have been a negotiation point with me as well.

So it was that Michael sat there, fondling and exploring Jessie's breasts, while she slowly worked his cock into a nice firm, solid erection before really beginning to stroke it for him.

"There, that's nice...how does that feel?" she asked playing with it, not even once looking at me, just at him...or specifically his cock, as though mesmerized by it. "Do you like that? Like what I'm doing to it?" she further coaxed.

"Oh yeah...fuck yeah, that feels nice," he moaned, still rubbing her nipples, fingering them as she in turn rubbed, fondled and stroked the young man's cock. And as she did, as I sat there in the front seat looking back at the two of them, likewise keeping somewhat of an eye out around me, I discovered that I was actually getting aroused. Before I knew it, I too had an erection, half tempted to take it out and stroke myself off while watching her doing the same thing to his cock. Maybe it helped that it appeared slightly smaller than my own, pridefulness perhaps, that comparison thing, though he did appear to have a slightly larger, more bulbous head on his shaft. And I noticed that Jessie enjoyed rubbing that in a particular way, teasing it with her fingers, scissoring each side with each up and down stroke of her hand.

"Gonna squirt big and hard for me baby? Lots of hot naughty cum juice?" She asked, coaxing him and teasing him with her words, along with her hand, especially as I sat there watching her doing it. Surprised that I was in fact now very much aroused as she did.

"Big and hard," he spoke back, eyes somewhat closing now, his breath becoming quicker, as his face began to grimace.

"Almost there? Gonna cum for me soon baby? Gonna give me all that hot delicious cream? How about right here on my tits honey...would you like that? Would you like to squirt all over these nice big titties of mine?"

I know I sure as hell wanted to, though he was soon doing just that.

I sat and watched, as she did, as the young man's prick suddenly exploded. Fountain after fountain of his hot white creamy cum splashing against her breasts as she stroked him, rubbing him against herself. Finally spent, she simply sat there enjoying the feel of his cream as it ran down between her breasts, on down to her belly. Once again nervous perhaps, he thanked her, thanked us both, and then jumped out of the car, soon after racing back towards his van, almost forgetting to grab his own surfboard in the process.

"I imagine he'll have quite the story to tell his friends," I actually laughed. "Wonder if they'll even believe him."

Jessie laughed. "Not if we leave now before he can reach them and point us out," she said, climbing out of the car, though not getting back in behind the driver's seat. "You drive," she said exchanging places with me as she got back in, though she still hadn't as yet put her top back on either. Still bare breasted, with cum-trails clinging to her tits. She reached over fondling my obvious erection as I started up the car, pulling quickly back out onto the highway again.

"So...how do you feel?" She asked.

"How do you think I feel?" I responded back...I thought it was obvious.

"I know how this feels...which is why I intend on doing something about it. Perhaps after that, after the horny goes away, you'll feel differently about everything that just happened. And then, once we get back to the house, we can talk about it calmly, without any other emotions getting in the way."

Sounded like good reasoning. Especially when she suddenly leaned over and gave me my first ever blowjob while driving a car. Frankly I was surprised when I came in her mouth as she swallowed it, rather than watching it, as I actually came. She sat up, licking her lips, only then putting her top back on again over her now somewhat cum-caked breasts.

"Sometimes I just need to do that too," she told me, like I also now need to do this." She sat back in her seat, spreading her legs along with the thin strip of material covering her mound and proceeded to masturbate all the way home. I counted three small, but nice little orgasms by the time we got there.

But even more amazingly, by the time we had gotten there, I was horny again. Horny in thinking about what we'd done, what I'd seen, what I'd watched her do...and how I now knew I felt about it. I was eager to see her do it again.

But....first things first. I all but carried her into the house, throwing her down on the bed where I gave her my answer. Several times.

**

Jessie and I began dating seriously after that. Aside from our weekly Erotic Arts class, things seemed to regain a sense of normalcy for the two of us as we truly began to get to know one another better. I now spent most of my time with her at her place, even sleeping over more often than not. Jessie's "quirk," or "kink" all but forgotten for a time as we simply explored one another and as we both came to accept, falling in love with one another deeper and deeper. I'd almost decided that perhaps these things were no longer a fantasy or desire for her. But then one of those "opportunities" presented itself, and I realized then that side of her really hadn't changed, nor should I expect it to. Interestingly enough, I found myself once again facing mixed emotions. Half disappointed that as close as we'd become, that aspect of her nature...her desires, hadn't changed. And now I knew...wouldn't. On the other hand...that feeling, that weird level of excitement I had found watching her in the back seat of the car at the beach came racing back as well. I was again intrigued, curiously aroused to once more witness my future wife's indulgence.

The previous week, Cindy had informed everyone, especially me...that she'd be bringing in two men to sit and pose for the class. Reason being...this would be an intimate portrayal of two men together, though again mostly simulated. I had already mentioned to Cindy beforehand that I wouldn't be comfortable posing in this fashion, simulated or not...and that trying to maintain an erection during such time might prove more than difficult. Jessie of course was anxiously looking forward to the class anyway, no real surprise there. I went along with intentions of merely observing and sitting off in the shadows during the class. Much to my surprise, as the night began and went on, I found the provocative poses the two young handsome looking men were positioned in, to be somewhat stimulating. Needless to say, so did most of the class, especially Jessie. At one point she had managed to corner Cindy off to one side, briefly speaking to her. I saw Cindy smile, looking over towards me shortly thereafter with a bemused expression on her face. Shortly after that, she had a brief chat with the two men during a five minute rest period. Both of which then looked over at Jessie, nodding their heads somewhat eagerly. Having no chance myself to ask at that point what was going on, I was determined to simply sit back and let whatever was going on, to simply unfold. Which of course, it eventually did.

An hour later everyone had finally filed out. Cindy locking up the room after the last person had left, leaving only the two young men, Robert and Edward, along with Jessie, Cindy and myself.

Finally, Jessie approached me. "Cindy's agreed to let me do a very special portrait of her," she began. "With Robert and Edwards help of course," she then added. "And yours too...if you're interested." She then proceeded to tell me that all three of them had of course already agreed to do so...quite eagerly I might add. Her intention of course, in jerking the two men off, having them come on Cindy's body, and then capturing that moment in her own unique way shortly after that. My inclusion to add to the volume of their combined spending would be greatly appreciated, IF I was up to it. Surprisingly, I'd been nurturing an erection most of the evening, wondering...and not at all surprised at the eventual disclosure of her desires and plans. And though I had pretty much made up my mind that I now would indeed add whatever I could to the project, I would start off merely watching her in the beginning. Saying she understood, she then wandered off back towards where Cindy was already setting up a long narrow banquet table in order to lay down on. After covering it with a sheet, Cindy disrobed, now naked, and placed herself upon it. With Jessie standing on one side of the table, and Robert and Edward on the other side, I now watched as she reached out taking both of their magnificent, and very turgid pricks in hand. She began slowly stroking them, holding them together in her hand as they stood there together, Cindy laying there on the table between, watching her as she did so, almost casually fondling herself as this went on. Hard and aroused before, I was even more so now...watching this simple, yet erotic display as Jessie coaxed their cocks into an even greater firmness than they already were. Her finger teasings clearly evidenced by the expressions on their faces. When she actually looked over her shoulder back towards me, I nodded her way and began removing my own clothes. She and Cindy both simply smiled knowingly without saying a word as I moved towards them. Only then did Jessie speak, directing me.

"Come stand in between them Danny," as they soon parted, making room for me to sandwich in between them. Whatever my earlier reluctance had been prior to this, seemed to melt away, though my nervousness as to what was expected of me remained. "Closer, move closer together so I can work the three of you together at once," she informed the three of us. I now found myself the third man in the middle, drawn together at a slight angle, with Robert and Edward on either side of me. It was an odd sensation. The press of a hard stiff cock on either side of mine as Jessie caressed them, holding the three of us there together within her hands. Slowly, her workings turned into more obvious stroking. Occasionally leaving off to work one of us independently from the other, as though gauging the closeness of our pending orgasms with one another. She was almost uncanny in doing so too, somehow sensing each of us without really needing to vocalize where we were, only cautioning to tell us when the moment finally did come. The canvas of Cindy's body below, soon to be the recipient of her carefully placed paste painting as it turned out.

"I'm close...very close," Edward finally spoke, alerting her.

"Come here then, stand beside me," she instructed. "And you two...keep your own close, on edge...but not over the mark. That's my job," she smiled wickedly. Robert and I stood, now fisting ourselves, though slowly, and on "edge" as it were, while Edward moved around the table standing next to her. Taking Edwards rather long, though somewhat slim prick in hand once again, she now stood behind him, the press of her own bare breasts against his back. I watched as Jessie continued to stroke the man's shaft, aiming it as it appeared in the direction of Cindy's left breast. "As soon as he comes...whoever thinks they can come quickly, and next, remain where you are. I'll come to you," she informed us both. 

"I think that'll be me..." Robert stated, teetering...yet so far holding out. Wordlessly, he and I exchanged places, with he now prepositioned to deposit his seed on what would obviously be Cindy's right breast when the time came.

"I'm gonna..."

"Cum!" Jessie said for him. "Yes Edward, yes. Let it go, squirt for me...spray her breast, cover it in your white hot sticky cream!" she cried out excitedly, pumping his prick in earnest now, rubbing the massive spongy head directly against Cindy's hard stiff nipple. Cindy likewise moaned pleasurably, watching, yet still fingering herself as his almost immediate discharge began to saturate her entire breast with thick copious streamers of his flying spunk. As though actually drawing it, Jessie stroked, rubbed and painted the canvas of Cindy's tit with the man's semen until she had coaxed out every last drop. Only when she had, did she hurriedly step around and over to where Robert was standing. "You ready?"

"Fuck yes!" He too groaned as she now did the same thing with his cock, slapping it, rubbing it, and pressing it against Cindy's other breast until it too soon began coating that one in a similar display of white sticky streamers of spunk that crisscrossed it, along with some of her other still smeared breast from Edwards climax.

The moment he was done, her eyes looked towards me, the question already asked.

"Whenever and wherever," I assured her.

"Stand at the end of the table, take each one of Cindy's legs in your hands, and spread her apart as far as you comfortably can," she thus told us both. Cindy scooted down slightly, her ass nearly off the edge of the table now as I did as instructed. Our instructors pink glistening pussy, now obscenely exposed, even more carnally displayed as I held her there like that. Jessie now behind me, the feel of her soft pliant breasts now pressing against my own back, her hand firmly wrapped about my phallus as she dragged it up and down, back and forth across Cindy's almost quivering throbbing cunt.

"Oh fuck!" Cindy cried out deliriously as she did that, obviously relishing the onslaught of this masturbatory entreat. 

"Try not to come until she does," Jessie told me. "The moment she does..." I was already gritting my teeth, trying to hold back, though thankfully Cindy was herself now riding the crest of her own orgasmic wave. She cried out, the wail of her ecstasy filling the air. I looked down, the sudden appearance of her own white frothy nectar cascading out of her pulsating quim. "Now! Now!" Jessie called out to me, though needlessly so, for the almost immediate appearance of my first flying jettison of spunk soon began splashing against that throbbing, quivering, white frothy split between Cindy's legs. Almost spastic now, Cindy tossed, her ass coming up off the table, Jessie's hand smashing the head of my prick more directly against the woman's clit, rubbing her, rubbing me as I continued to spurt what turned out to be one of my more impressive, massive displays against her.

The moment she had drained me of the last precious drop however, Jessie immediately disengaged, rushing over to where she had already set up her easel, and began capturing the entire affair as though it had all occurred simultaneously.

"Cindy!" Jessie called out without turning away from her work. "Please...please, come here...finger me from behind while I finish this."

That was new...and exciting to watch as almost dutifully, even while basking in the throes of her own golden afterglow, Cindy rolled off of the table. In seconds she now stood behind Jessie, her hand furiously plowing through the obviously wet, liquid passage of my girlfriends cunt.

"Press against me," she cried out further. "Let me feel the come, let me feel it against me," she demanded. Cindy did so...her come-covered breasts now meshed against Jessie's heated flesh as her hands flew, as image took on a life of its own there upon the sketch pad. I, along with the other two men, almost reverently walked over, standing behind silently as Jessie's magical talent recreated what we had so recently felt and seen for ourselves. In a bizarre, almost abstract way, it was like experiencing it all over again. And I...along with Robert and Edward both, soon found ourselves once again growing erect as we stood there watching her.

Faster than anything I had ever seen her do before, she was finished. The portrait, the erotic image of her minds-eye clearly expressed in the almost photo-like appearance there on paper as she finally succumbed. Her orgasmic release at Cindy's hand and fingers finally completing the masterpiece. She turned, looking exhausted, yet somehow exhilarated. Spying almost immediately our three newly erect cocks pointing towards her.

"Give it to me...whatever you can, give it to me," she implored the three of us. Somehow we managed it, all of us just a few minutes later. Perhaps not as impressive as Cindy's still come-soaked body had been, but more than enough to please her never the less as she stood there moment later, ribbons of spunk dangling from her tits as though decorated like a frosted cake.

I had soon after collapsed, not even bothering to dress yet, though Robert and Edward had done so, both soon after leaving. They had of course thanked both Cindy and Jessie profusely for the unexpected treat, agreeing to be available again anytime if either were wanted or needed to do so.

Cindy...taking the finished sketch off the easel, held it up, looking at it, studying it...and then walked over towards where the two of us now sat, sharing the one and only small studio couch together.

"Jessie...this is without a doubt, the best piece of work you've accomplished yet. And to think, you were actually in the throes of an orgasm yourself when you added the last final touches to it...amazing."

"Thank you," Jessie sighed tiredly. "I think it is. And now I think...I'm ready to take you up on your offer," she informed our instructor. "You really think...you can find someone to show it, even as...well, as decadent as it appears to be?"

"I already have someone in mind," she told her. "It may very well be a private showing, for just a selected few. But I have a feeling Jessie...you're about to become a very, very big demand for particular clientele of intriguing, almost shocking works of erotica."

**

A couple of months passed. But just as Cindy had predicted, word spread, and Jessie's unique talent was soon being clamored for. She had even shown off several of her collection at a couple of private showings, each one of them sold out, with each piece being sold for several thousands of dollars. Most sold anonymously too of course. At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about having many of them, featuring my own stiff spurting cock, hanging in someone's home somewhere perhaps. But at least my face was never fully depicted in any of them, save for one that Cindy herself had purchased as a personal memento. 

As for us, we were married shortly after that. Even Robert and Edward had come to the private intimate little ceremony, which we'd held for a few selected family members and friends. As a sort of a pre-wedding, wedding present, I had spoken with Robert and Edward a short hour prior to the ceremony. And though holding to tradition myself, not seeing the bride prior to her walking down the aisle, as she soon joined me standing by my side, she smiled, whispering to me, thanking me for the wonderful gift. Her dress cut low enough, enabling me to see...the still somewhat fresh spunking of her breasts, where their semen still remained. Though Cindy too stood beside her as her maid of honor. And me smiling just as knowingly, as she had likewise sent Cindy in to me, where she likewise stood, wearing a similar paste of pleasure between her own breasts as we completed our vows together and became man and wife.




Eroticum 101



Jessie still does very selective, erotic paintings and sketches for a rather large clientele, many of which to this very day remain anonymous. Opening a personal studio for her in our home, she still enjoys the occasional, personal, private sessions that she does by appointment for a reasonable price. She sketches provocative, erotic and quite sensual pieces for couples who've likewise come to appreciate her work. I think she enjoys doing those more than some of the more expensive, more intimately detailed pieces she's often commissioned to do. And it's certainly worked out for me in a way too. We don't go out "looking" nearly as often as we once did in order for Jessie to indulge herself as she had been. No need to. Those moments now come to us. 

"Finished?" I said walking out of my own personal study where I now enjoy my own talented endeavors. I've just finished my second book, now working on the third.

"Just," she said smiling at me. "They're dressing now, but I think they like the portrait," she told me smiling pleasantly. "And...how's the book coming?" she asked curiously.

"Coming well. And speaking of which...you've got a little there on your shoulder," I laughed.

Jessie still sketches, still draws in the nude. She does her best work that way, always has. And occasionally of course, she gets involved in her work, just as I do. She laughed, reaching up, spearing the small ribbon of sperm that had obviously landed on her shoulder, smearing it further into her skin.

"Yeah, he was pretty wild and excited right there towards the end," she grinned. "It was a fun one to watch. Though it's only made me want to watch another one. You game?" She asked already reaching down to unzip my fly.

"You planning to paint this one too?" I asked. She'd already sketched countless ejaculations of mine as it was. I was almost embarrassed to say how many of these decorated a couple of rooms in our own home.

"Nope...this one I need to swallow," she said eying my now hard dick. As the young couple she'd just finished sketching finally emerged from her private studio, thanking her profusely again, carrying out their own little personal masterpiece as they passed by us. I had to chuckle, they didn't even bat an eyelash as Jessie knelt there in front of me, my dick in her mouth as she waved them goodbye.

"Come again...any time," I told them both.

I knew I certainly would. 



Erotique Boutique



New Hope, Pennsylvania is a quaint, beautiful little tourist town hard by the banks of the Delaware River, in close proximity to the more-well-known Washington's Crossing (gee, guess what happened there, history buffs?).

New Hope is an eclectic place with eccentric characters who either reside there or hang out frequently at the numerous cafes, coffee houses, fine and casual restaurants, and enjoy a wide variety of stores ranging from antiques to high fashion.

Perched high up on the hill, a block or so from the main 'drag' (and believe me, 'drag' is an accurate euphemism to describe the attire of the majority of the crowd on the sidewalks of Main Street on weekend evenings), there is a small boutique that offers a variety of, shall we say, multi-gender costumes and devices designed to facilitate an evening or three of adult-themed entertainment. I'm going to name it, for the purposes of this saga, "Erotique Boutique", to avoid any representations to the real thing, heaven forbid.

Besides, I like my store name better than theirs, and this way there can be no copyright infringement disputes. 'The name has been changed to protect the innocent, any similarities between this story and real life is purely coincidental', blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, a shopper interested in all things carnal could certainly find pretty much whatever one was looking for to fulfill their wildest fantasies. Just to clarify, as George Costanza once said (I may be paraphrasing here), "I have a staunch record of unblemished heterosexuality," and I recalled during my one or two brief visits to the shop that they had an extensive womens' lingerie section, featuring garments that would make the photo editor of the 'Frederick's of Hollywood' catalog blush.

So, it was with this simple, altruistic intent in mind, to purchase some surprise gifts for a woman 'friend-with-benefits' of mine for an upcoming getaway weekend, that I entered the small shop on a sleepy Autumn Wednesday in mid-afternoon.

I probably stood out like the proverbial sore thumb, dressed as I was in my button-down Polo shirt, a pair of olive Dockers, and tassle loafers. I must have looked like I just stepped out of the alumni tent of nearby Princeton University's lacrosse game tailgate or a Charles Grodin look-alike contest. Call it business-casual with a decidedly preppy slant, definitely not the norm for most of the sometimes, um, peculiar mix of patrons, admittedly. But, as they always say in retail, never judge a customer by what they're wearing.

I tried to enter and browse discreetly through the racks womens' apparel ranging from titillating to downright salacious, but it was like a blue-eyed redhead trying to cross into the U.S. at the San Ysidro border crossing, I kinda looked, uh, different. The heavily tattooed store manager, like a watchful Department of Homeland Security Marshall, took immediate notice and honed down on me. 

If she held a walkie-talkie, I could just imagine their internal security code parlance for my ilk: "Preppy middle-aged hetero in Aisle Three. I'll handle this one myself, girls. Probably will just settle for a box of extra-small condoms and a 9-volt battery, I know the type, he'll say it's for his smoke detector." 

To be blunt, she was a bit of a visual conundrum herself. She looked to be a few years younger than myself, perhaps late-thirties or early forties, and she had a very pretty face with big blue eyes, reminiscent of Courtney Cox with spiked purple hair, jet-black heavy goth eyeliner and a nose piercing, if you can make that reach. I did. She was about five-five, and thin, but with nice, full, natural breasts. "Just a skinny chick with big boobs," as she called herself later in an accurate self-description.

She wore a white, sleeveless, midriff cotton top, a surprisingly generic shirt when you consider the endless possibilities that were on the shelves all around her every day. Multi-colored tattoos of indiscernible figures covered her the right side of her neck, and it appeared, down the entire right side of her torso, which then made a hard left turn and wrapped around her navel and flat tummy in a rainbow of whiling hues. The revealing blouse showed that she had a bleeding heart with a flaming arrow through it that was etched into the top of her left breast ("Never, ever get red", I once overheard a dermatologist tell a patient who came in for a removal consultation. "It just doesn't come out"), and an adorable little teddy bear on her right. Lucky cub.

Her thighs and ass were molded into a black leather miniskirt and I knew she couldn't have any panties on under that garment, it just looked like the prototypical no-panty skirt. Her ebony-painted toenails were encased in black 4-inch high heeled shoes which caused her tight, little ass to jut out even more.

It's funny, despite all the extra-curricular 'noise' all over her face and body, I was attracted to her from minute one, and not just because of the eroticism of her whole package. In fact, my attraction was almost in spite of that. When we made eye contact, even before we spoke a word to each other, her eyes had a delicate kindness that betrayed the hardness of her exterior appearance. 

But more than that. It was clear that she was sizing me up as a potential, though implausible sex partner in the same manner, the contrast between my suburban middle-age professorial look and her cosmopolitan, prurient flamboyance made me somewhat of an enigma to her, waiting to be unwrapped and examined.

How did I perceive this so early on? Very simple. My dick was rock-hard, it's a great prognosticator.

Yep, I had a very strong instinct that we were going to be lovers, our unlikely pairing of worlds colliding at the pelvis, again and again. I just didn't know it would be in the next twenty minutes.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked cordially, approaching me as I perused the teddys. Now, if that isn't a woman that wants it, I don't know what is. (Kidding, readers, just kidding!)

"Yep, hi," I replied, just as friendly, trying to decide where not to stare, at her bountiful tits or her countless tattoos. I failed on both counts. "Um, I'm looking for some sexy ideas for one of my girlfriends. I have some things in mind already, but I could sure use your expertise, thanks."

My phrasing 'one of my girlfriends' was very much intentional, and not at all untrue. If she was going to use her tattoos as an intimidation factor, I was willing to use whatever weapons were available to me in the always-present battle of one-upmanship between the sexes.hey, besides, the best way to get woman's interest is to let her know that you're already attached. In my case, with several paramours.

Her smirk in response to my rather arrogant opening line was non-committal. I wasn't sure is she was amused, annoyed, skeptical, repulsed, or a combination of all of the above, but at this point in our fledgling conversation, she sure wasn't going to lose a sale.

She hesitated, pondering which tone to take. My comment obviously merited some return interrogation if we were going to consummate a business transaction, after all, right?

"ONE of your girlfriends?" She laughed softly, almost mockingly. "Tsk, tsk, naughty boy, and you look so innocent, too. To what do you attribute your irresistible charms?"

I picked up a silk bustier and caressed it with seeming nonchalance, not looking at her, and dropped the checkered flag to indicate the race was beginning. "Start your engines!"

I held the sexy garment up in front of me and closed one eye and gazed at her from behind the transparent fabric, as an artist would size up a model that he was planning to paint, to see if this was an acceptable accoutrement in which to adorn her.

"Oh,' I said off-handedly. "I'm very hung." I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as I acted as if I had an interest in another garment, and reached for it, this one a pink babydoll. "Like a horse, supposedly, according to two of them."

She was back on her heels now, she most certainly wasn't expecting this out of a guy who looked like he was caught in a hurricane in the J Crew outlet.

I continued on, stifling a yawn, turning to her now, taking inventory of her hot, lithe body. She unconsciously crossed her tattooed forearms across her ample chest. "The other two just pant and pass out a lot, but I'm guessin' that means they concur." I shrugged. "Kind of."

She took a half-step backwards, and for a brief moment, I was indeed wondering if she was going to summon security. Then, she threw her head back and erupted in uproarious glee. "Oh, my, GOD, you are a freakin' trip!" She bent over at the waist, holding her side in a belly-laugh, and in doing so, I got a great peek of her big, firm tits beneath the tank top. 

She held out her hand, still convulsing. "My name is Marianne, I'm the store manager here. Boy, I wasn't expecting that! If you don't mind me sayin' so, you look like such a straight-arrow." I noticed the silver tongue earring in her mouth as she laughed. I never had a woman with a tongue earring before, I didn't know they were still in fashion. But I always wondered if the urban legend were true........

I held out my own hand to take hers in a shake, and opened my own mouth to introduce myself, but she waved her hand in a shushing motion. "No, no, wait, don't tell me. Mr. Ed, right?" She continued to laugh at her own joke. "Or, maybe, Seabiscuit? Or Secretariat, which is it?" She put her hands on her slender hips, and for the first time, two nipples had made their appearance from beneath her cotton t-shirt.

I looked back at her with a mock stern glare. "Well, since this has gone quickly from a potential business transaction to an, affable, personal one, you can call me John." I raised an eyebrow at Marianne. "Otherwise, I'd have to insist that you call me by my preferred name, Vesuvius."

She nodded gravely, playing along now, her delightful blue eyes dancing. "Oh, YES, sir, understood, I won't overstep my boundaries." She glanced down at my crotch, taking inventory herself now, and it didn't take twenty-twenty vision to see that I was fully aroused. Her face made a lustful transformation as she gazed at my zipper, before finally lifting her head to make eye-contact. There was no duplicity in her next sentence, she was now as turned one as I was, her eyes bore into mine. "Unless you want me to."

We made small talk for a few minutes, and with each passing minute, our bodies grew closer and closer in the tight confines of the aisle, until our chest were pressed together as we had to slide over as a customer who was browsing passed by us. Marianne took the opportunity to appear as if she were stumbling, and while I reached out to catch her to brace her potential fall, I felt her palm linger against my cock. "Mmmm, you weren't false advertising, stallion. I'm surprised you only have FOUR girlfriends. So much dick, so little time."

She looked up at me as I held her in my arms, not breaking her grasp. "I'm going to tell my staff that I have a customer who needs some attention in the private dressing room. Give me a minute. Wait here. I have some things I think you'll like for your...girlfriend....but how are you going to know unless someone models them for you?"

Not surprisingly, I thought this was a truly splendid idea, a novel customer-service approach. What better way to close the sale?

Marianne then asked in curiosity, her eyes scanning the floor of the store to see if there were any other customers on this slow midweek afternoon as she began to rub and explore my cock with more urgency, "So, special lady who gets the getaway weekend, how is she built?"

I had a birds-eye view of Marianne since our bodies were now almost grinding together. "Well," I began slowly, imagining Debra's athletic body, careful not to compare it TOO favorably to Marianne's. Women, as a rule, don't react kindly to that, perhaps you've noticed, fellas.

"She's a bit taller than you..about the same build, lean, thin..tight." She smiled, so far so good. I looked down at Marianne's tattooed tat-tas, and rubbed my chin as if in contemplation. "But your tits are definitely bigger....fuller." Marianne's hand cupped my big balls now, and she groaned almost inaudibly. I looked at Marianne with great sincerity. "You have GREAT tits, by the way." Not that it was in any way an afterthought.

I continued to the southern equator. "Asses..? Hmm, let's see." I spun her around and gaped at her tight little buns sensationally ensconced within the teeny leather mini. Deb has a wonderful ass, but Marianne was on a need-to-know basis, and she definitely did not need to know THAT. I reached out to caress her buttocks over the skirt. "Oh, yeah, that's tight. You win." She beamed. I wagged my finger at her. "But it was close, hey, do I look like a guy who will spend my time with women with anything less than world-class butts?"

Marianne wiggled out of my grasp. "Most definitely not. So you came to the right place. In fact, you look like a guy who's going to get a fashion show that he'll never forget. Be right back."

She returned with a few large bags and a wink. "Follow me," she directed, and who was I to argue, watching that impeccable rear end encased in that leather skirt, wondering what tattoos were sketched on her ass, and feeling pretty confident that I was soon about to find out.

She led me through two rows of curtains, and then a door with walls that reached to the ceiling, effectively blocking out sight and sound from the adjacent stalls. "Sit. Wait. Relax." I sat. I waited. I relaxed, from the waist up. 

After a few minutes, I heard and saw the doorknob turn, and there she was, wearing a red lace strapless bustier with red garters, red see-through stockings and a transparent red g-string. "Ooh, my. Little Red Riding Hood, come blow my horn," I whispered in sincere admiration.

Marianne didn't completely shave her pussy bald but there was only a thin swatch of short black hairs on her mons. Her puffy outer labia were naturally smooth. Her clitoral hood poked out of the top of her vertical slit. She reached down and peeled aside her g-string and spread her labia wide revealing the pink inner folds of her cunt. They glistened with her sticky white juices and a small black hole opened before me. I inhaled the musky scent of her cunt and sweat.



She stood in front of me, hands on hips, and I could smell her husky aroma of her sex wafting through the small room. "You've seen mine. Now I get to see yours, horse man. Take it out." She hissed at me next, with unmistakable, unbridled lust. "Lemme see that cock."

I deferred, shaking my head, not wanting to relinquish control, wanting to see how far Marianne would go in her own store. I pointed to my lap, easing my legs apart. "You take it out. You know you want it."

Her blue eyes blazed with a combination of surprise, anger, but more so, desire. And ultimately, compliance. She knelt in front of me, face flushed, pissed off but turned on. "You cocky bastard, this better be good." 

Marianne unzipped my pants while I leaned back in my chair. She reached her hand into my pants and boxers and felt my huge cock. When she pulled it free, she gasped slightly, trying unsuccessfully to mask the effect that the sight and feel of my cock had on her.

She leaned toward a square table in the corner of the room and found a small tape measure, used for private fittings and tailoring, no doubt. She extracted about a foot of the tape and ran it against the length of my shaft. She placed the tape gently against the base of my shaft, where it met the pubic bone, and ran it up to my mushroom-shaped tip. She then meticulously wrapped it around in a circle at the thickest part of my cock, right about in the upper middle. I found this very erotic, I had measured myself (all guys do, admit it!), but had never had a woman act as judge, jury, and referee, and certainly not by a woman whom I hadn't known a quarter-hour ago.

"Hmmmm, I got eight-and-a-quarter inches long, and about four-and-a-half thick." Marianne continued to stroke my shaft and examine it almost matter-of-factly, as if she was contemplating how to best utilize her extrapolated data. Me, I had an idea. "Long, very long," she admitted. "But not overly thick," she clucked her tongue. "I must admit, Mr. Ed, I'm a tad disappointed in you." She lowered her head back to my dick. "And here I thought I was finally gonna get a cock that I COULDN'T deep throat. Haven't met one yet."

I admit I wasn't accustomed to having my dick size chastised, but perhaps I deserved it from my blustery show of bravado. As I contemplated whether that was a good or bad thing, she ran her fingers over the knob of my cock and pulled my pants down to my ankles. She cupped my balls into her hand and pulled them out also. "Now THAT is a big sack, I gotta give you that much, I can only imagine the seed stored in those basketballs." I took this as a compliment.

She then leaned down and gave my balls (basketballs?) a cute little kiss, then she licked both, before she sucked one whole into her warm mouth. She playfully massaged my one ball in her mouth with her long tongue for a little while. Next she ran her tongue from the base of my cock all the way up to the tip, then back down, taking her sweet time, like she was licking a popsicle. She ran her tongue back up to my tip, and swirled her tongue all around and over my tip, maybe dozens of times. She gave my tip a last few kisses, before her lips parted and she rose from her knees. She frowned. "I think I'm gonna need my pillow for round two," she griped.

"Sounds like I'm not your first customer back here," I said, seeing the tattoos on her butt now as she prepared to exit the room, leaving me hard, high, and dry, for now. Surprisingly, she did not have what seems to be the obligatory 'tramp stamp' on her back bone. Instead, she had a celestial pattern of moon and stars on one cheek, and I would have lost a lot of money betting on this one, a Wile E. Coyote print on the other, the clumsy villain from the Roadrunner cartoon. Go figure. Must have been on discount or something, I reasoned.

She smiled over her shoulder at me conspiratorially. "Fringe benefit of the job. All the cock and pussy I can eat. Be right back." She nodded down at my twitching, desperate dick, "Don't go anywhere." As if I was going out on jogging on Main Street in this condition. Although, hey, in New Hope, people may not have even given me a second glance.

I grew restless and began to lazily stroke my cock while I waited during intermission, blue-balled and slightly humiliated. And I was the one about to cum at the sight of her stepping out from behind the door dressed in high heels, sheer ivory stockings, white garters, crotchless white lace panties and a see-through white lace bra that was at least 2 sizes too small for her ample endowments. 

She stopped a few feet from me. "You like?" she asked as she pirouetted around in a circle.

"Hell yeah, I like!" I replied as my hand flew up and down the length of my cock.

Facing me once more Marianne raised her hands to her tits and lifted them, squeezed them. She let one hand drop to her crotch and began to rub her pussy and in no time at all she was squirming and on the verge of cumming as I watched her frig herself. "Your turn. Eat me," she demanded, walking toward me like a predatory cat and pressing her pussy into my face, holding the back of my skull firm against her mound, with surprising strength.

By the time I moved my face down to her puffy pubic mound Marianne was already in ecstatic bliss, and it felt like she was about to explode when my tongue found the little nub of her clit for the first time. I could feel and taste her pussy juices flowing out of her sopping cunt. As I sucked gently on her clit, she felt me slip two fingers inside her slippery folds and into her tight pussy hole, and she began bucking like wild, so frantically that I worried that she might leave bruises on my cheeks. 




Erotique Boutique



As I continued fingering her canal and sucking her swollen clit, Marianne began moaning loudly, begging me not to stop. After several minutes of this immense pleasuring, the tattooed, aggressive sales manager came really hard and I felt it squirt out of her pussy and onto my lips. 

I removed my fingers and spread apart her saturated pussy lips, then slid my tongue deep into her folds to lick up all of her sweet and tangy juices. I could feel my tongue probing deep in the inner channels of her vaginal walls, which clenched around me, still pulsing from her explosive orgasm. Then I buried my face into her whole pussy to suck and lick the remaining juices. I moved again up her body and we began to kiss open-mouthed. She sucked my tongue into her waiting mouth and tasted her own delicious, fresh pussy nectar.

"Mmmm, fuck, that was excellent, you can really eat pussy, horsey guy." She licked her lips, still savoring the flavor of her own juices.

"You get a bonus for that, the speciality of the house."

She disappeared again, leaving me to lick my fingers and wank my still-needy dick.

She emerged a lot more quickly, thankfully. There wasn't anything elaborate or intricate about her wardrobe this time, but, oh, was it ever effective.

She wore a low-cut full-length crimson red evening dress with thin spaghetti straps that hugged her shapely curves like a body glove. The dress had a cut-out back that revealed Marianne's tatted back almost down to her ass and had a slit up both sides of her legs, that traveled up over each of her hips, revealing her pantiless pussy with every sway of her long legs. I'm not sure which bulged more, my pupils or my impossibly rock-hard cock.

She slithered her body down onto mine, straddling me on the chair, pulling aside the slit on her left leg for access, not that it was really necessary. "I wore this to Havana about two weeks ago," she purred, teasing me with her warm cunt lips hovering directly over my cock head. 

Havana is a popular, trendy two-level nightclub right on Main Street, with standing-room-only crowds on weekends. "And my partner fucked me right on the couch, and nobody could tell for sure if we were doing it." 

Her cunt wrapped around my dick now, causing me to emit a loud, guttural groan. "Oh, but we were, we were, we fucked right there in front of hundreds of people." My mind raced at the sight of this goth middle-aged hottie being taken surreptitiously in this clandestine dress that just covered enough to serve as cover, while at the same time reveling in her hot, clenching cunt gripping my dick like a pair of velvet-covered pliers.

She pumped up and down on me with alacrity now, milking my cock expertly with her talented cunt muscles, pulling down the straps of her dress so that I could suck on one big nipple while she tugged and pinched at the other. 

"Just like you're going to after you buy it from me, so you can fuck ONE of your girlfriends there, and only you and I know that it won't be the first woman you fucked in that club while wearing this same dress." With that, I spurt a massive load of hot cum up her snatch that would have been sufficient to activate the floodgates on the canal next to the Delaware River if her pussy hadn't served as my semen receptacle.

Ten minutes and six hundred dollars later, I left the aptly named Erotique Boutique with three packages full of goodies: A red bustier set; an all-white garter and stockings ensemble; and, of course, a crimson dress covered in our cum.

Three nights later, on Saturday, my hand grazed Debra's bare back as I escorted her into the Erotique Boutique, a satisfied return customer. Marianne was waiting on a customer, and Deb and I browsed the store while she finished, my hand dipping under Debra's dress and fingering her slippery slit to the edge of ecstasy, hidden by the racks of sexy clothing.

Marianne finally approached, wearing a plaid school-girl mini, her purple hair in pigtails. "Debra, this is Marianne, the friendly and attentive store manager I told you all about." The two women gazed at each other with undisguised desire.

"We just got back from Havana, the place you recommended," I said to Marianne as Debra's glassy countenance displayed the look of a recently well-fucked lady.

"Marianne, why don't you take Debra in the back and show her some of your famous customer service."

"And if you don't mind, I'd like to watch, please."



Erotische fairytale



Dit erotische verhaal is wellicht niet ieders smaak. Het bevat geen extreme vormen van seks, maar is een erotisch sprookje. Wellicht niet geschikt voor al te oude lezers . Feedback, tips, kritieken etc, zijn wederom welkom op.

Mijn naam is Arcas, broer van Pan. Het verhaal wat ik vertel is waar, hoewel jullie simpele zielen het waarschijnlijk niet eens begrijpen. Ik schrijf het niet te min op, en breek de Eed van Geheimhouding die het Schone Volk heeft gezworen, zodat enkeling die zeker wil weten dat het echt gebeurd zekerheid krijg als zij de woorden lezen die ik aan het papier toevertrouw. 

Zoals het wel duidelijk zal zijn uit de woorden die ik al heb geschreven zal ik niet beweren dat ik eens mens ben. Ik ben er één van het Schone Volk, om precies te zijn een satyr. Volgens de verhalen van de Gewone Wereld een wezen van oneindige zinnelijkheid en lust. De verhalen van Arcadia vertellen trouwens het zelfde verhaal, maar leggen toch minder de nadruk op die specifieke persoonlijkheids trek. Ik leef al lang. Ik heb al veel meegemaakt in mijn lange leven. Zoals elk wezen van mijn soort heb ik de wouden bezocht en heb nimfen en dryades het hof gemaakt en bezeten. Ik heb de bergen beklommen om mij neer te leggen met Elementalen. Ik heb de meest woeste zeeën bevaren om de liefde te delen met een zeemeermin, en heb zelfs eenmaal een reis gemaakt naar de het Ondergrondse Rijk om daar te genieten van de Verboden Liefdeskunst van de Drow. 

Maar na jaren en jaren van beminnen en veroveren kwam de drang naar een nieuwe smaak op mijn lippen. Hoe het kwam weet ik niet. Maar wellicht ben ik op mijn manier een wisselkind. Er zijn er die uit de wereld van het Gewone Volk naar deze wereld zwerven; de krankzinnigen en kunstzinnigen...Wellicht zijn er onder ons ook die zich geroepen voelen de wereld van stervelingen te betreden, ook al is het dan maar één keer. En wellicht was ik die persoon. 

De Weg is onmogelijk te vinden, en tegelijkertijd schikbarend simpel. Je loopt gewoon richting de Grens, en als je het maar genoeg wil zal de Grens zich niet voortdurend verplaatsen maar toestaan dat je haar passeert en je komt uit in de Gewone Wereld. Natuurlijk ging het niet zomaar. Terwijl ik de Grens passeerde, en terecht kwam in de wereld van de Mensen die ik alleen van plaatjes kenden, veranderde ik ook, zodat ik niet meteen herkend zou worden als een mythisch wezen. Ik voelde de aangename stimulans van de betoveringen die me langzaam inpakten als mens. Mijn wezen zelf veranderde tegelijkertijd wel en ook niet. Diep binnen in, bleef ik wie ik was. Geen betovering, in deze wereld of ik mijn normale wereld kan een Satyr totaal vermommen. Mijn bokkenpoten verdwenen, de ruige vacht op mijn borst ook, evenals de gekromde hoorns op mijn hoofd. De fluit die in een leren koord om mijn hals hing werd een ketting met een donkere steen met een vijfpuntige ster. De betoveringen werkten echter goed genoeg om mijn ware aard te verhullen, tenzij iemand zelf deel werd van Arcadia. Hetgeen trouwens wel mijn bedoeling was. 

Ik kwam uit in een donkere verlaten wijk van een stad. Ik voelde me redelijk thuis, hoewel de kunstmatige jungle van steen me enigszins onnatuurlijk aanvoelde en de het met teer geplaveide asfalt een geur afgaf die me enigszins afstootte als ik er teveel op lette. De wereld als geheel kwam met erg hard voor, maar niet te min was er ook schoonheid. De zon was net aan het ondergaan, en bood een geweldige aanblik, terwijl de hoge en grillige huizen hun schaduwen wierpen. In de schaduwen bewoog ik me voort. Toen ik langs een groot raam liep zag ik hoe de betovering me eruit deed zien. Ik was groter dan ik in Arcadia zou zijn. De vacht op mijn benen was vervangen door een leren broek, met veters aan de zijkant. Mijn voeten waren gestoken in donkere laarzen. Mijn torso was onbehaard, maar deels bedekt met een jack van suède, die echter ophing. Ik zag dat ik gespierd was, met de armen bloot. Mijn hoofd was niet langer gehoord, mijn baard weg. Ik was echter gezegend een weelderig kapsel, zwarte haren die dik en glanzend tot ver over mijn schouders vielen, met een flauwe slag erin. Mijn ogen echter, waren onveranderd. Diep bruin en de vonk van boosaardig en listig plezier erin. De uitdrukking op mijn gezicht beloofde hetzelfde. Het verlangen in mijn onderlijf was ook nog steeds niet veranderd. Nu maar hopen dat ik hier ook kon vinden wat ik zocht om dat verlangen in elk geval tijdelijk tot rust te brengen. 

De straat was niet uitgestorven, maar het was ook niet erg druk. Ik zag voornamelijk wat jonge mannen die mij met een wat vreemde blik aankeken. Wellicht vonden ze dat ik er beter uitzag dan zij. De vrouwen die ik tegenkwam waren of in gezelschap van één of meerdere mannen, of ze sloegen hun ogen neer en liepen gauw door, met snelle haastige passen. Blijkbaar boezemde mijn uiterlijk hen angst aan. 

Ik liep op goed geluk door de stad, maar instinctief werd ik teruggetrokken naar de plaatsen waar de Grens erg dun is, de bossen, de Wilde Plaatsen. Maar naast instinct was er nog iets dat me aanspoorde om die kant op de gaan. Ik rook vaag iets in de lucht; een geur van losbandigheid, uitdaging en plezier. Ik werd ertoe aangetrokken zoals dwergen naar goud... 

De weg leidde naar veld. Het was inmiddels bijna helemaal donker, maar het veld zelf was een spektakel van licht. Het meeste licht leek kunstmtig, verschillende grote bollen licht werden door kabels gevoed, maar er branden ook vuren. Ik hoorde luide muiziek, maar deze muziek paste niet helemaal bij de wereld waar ik was. Als ik deze muziek ergens in arcadia gehoord zou hebben zou met dat niet hebben verbaasd. Ik kon zonder probleem pauken onderscheiden, verder ook harpen en luiteb, en oh ironie!, panfluiten! Op een verhoging, waar al het licht samen leek te vallen stonden een aantal mensen, zowel mannen als vrouwen en zij bespeelden de instrumenten alsof hun leven ervan afhing. Ik had betere muziek gehoord in Arcadia, maar nog nooit werd het met zoveel vuur gespeeld als deze mensen hun instrumenten beminden. De muziek van Arcadia is mooi en opzwepend, maar mist een ding: het gevoel dat elke dag de laatste kan zijn. Ons leven duurt zo ongelofelijk lang, dat elke expressie van kunst op een manier leeg blijft omdat het ziel mist. 

Er waren behalve de muziekanten ook ander mensen aanwezig. Ze waren verzameld op het grasveld en luisterden naar de muziek. Sommigen van hen keken wat verveeld rond en deden zich meer te goed aan een geel schuimende drank, waarschijnlijk het zo beruchte bier, terwijl ik ook de geur van pretsigaretten kon ruiken. Maar een grotere groep liet zich net zoals ik betoveren door de klanken die muziekanten voorbrachten en ze dansten. Ik ken nymfen die gracieuzer dansen, maar ook hier zag ik weer die zelfde prachtige wanhoop die ik in de muziek hoorde, nu wellicht nog intenser. Dansen in alleen aan de jonge soepele mens voorbehouden, en de jeugd gaat nog sneller voorbij dan het leven. Door het spektakel wat ik voor me zag verdween mijn lustgevoel even naar de achtergrond, maar al snel daarna kwam het twee keer zo hard terug: Ik wilde deel gaan uitmaken van hun bacchanaal, en stortte me in hun feestgedruis. 

Ik liep naar het midden van hun dansfestijn en liet me door de muziek optillen. Voor mijn gevoel zweefde ik terwijl de muziek me opzweepte. Ik wervelde in het rond, met gracieuze armgebaren, wapperend haar en deels ontbloot bovenlijf. De muziek zelfs was als seks. Het ritme het bonkende stoten van twee lichamen tegen elkaar, de melodie als het vermengen van vocht en adem, de akkoorden als strelingen over een blote huid. Een satyr is gemaakt voor seks, en ik voelde dat als nooit te voren. Het menselijk lichaam wat ik bezat maakte dat ik het nog meer voelde. De eeuwige erectie van mijn soort tekende zich steeds geprononceerder af in de strakke broek die ik droeg. 

En toen was de nimf er. Ze was niet echt een nimf, maar ze deed me er wel aan denken. Ze was slank en tenger gebouwd, met lange zwarte haren. Op haar handen en rond de ogen had ze vreemde krullerige tekens aangebracht waar mij de directe functie niet duidelijk van was, tenzij die functie was haar een nog meer toverachtige glans geven. In dat geval was ze meer dan geslaagd. Net als veel bezoekers droeg ze zwart fluweel, in haar geval echter gemengd met rood als topje. Het kleed wat ze droeg was kort, en reikte tot nauwelijks halverwege haar slanke dijen. Ze had echter geen naakte dijen zoals de meeste nimfen, maar ze droeg nauwsluitend been bescherming die erg dun was. De beenbescherming was zwarte met felroze strepen. Aan de binnenkant van haar linker dijbeen zat een gat wat een groot deel van haar bijna witte vlees liet zien. Ze danste verloren en dromerig in haar eigen wereld, opgezweept door het ritme van de percussionist. De begeerte greep me in alle hevigheid naar de keel. Ik kon elke vrouw hier krijgen, maar zij was degene die ik uitkoos. 

Ik wenste dat ze me zou zien. Ze keek onmiddellijk op. Ik stond alleen tussen de dansers, mijn wilde gedans had iedereen met zachte drang weggeduwd en ik stond alleen, terwijl de vlammen en het gedans hun wilde spel speelde met het aanwezige licht.. Ze keek naar mij, ik keek naar haar. Ze had blauwe ogen, een prachtig contrast met haar bleke huid en haar verder zwarte uitstraling. Ze keek me aan met geopende lippen en ik zag haar ademhaling versnellen. Ik keek verder dan dat een mens kan kijken en keek in haar ziel. Ik zag haar verlangen naar bevrediging, naar een donkere vreemdeling die haar mee zou voeren naar de toppen van het genot. Vanaf het moment dat we oogcontact hadden had ze het gevoel dat er in haar ziel iets klikte, de sensatie van een langzaam zich openende bloem drong zich aan me op. 

Ik opende mijn armen, zij kroop tegen mijn borst. Ik was twee koppen groter dan zij was, en twee keer zo breed, maar ze toonde geen spoor van angst of onderwerping. Geen van die dingen had ik ook gevraagd. Toen ze dicht bij me was tilde ik haar op. Mijn bovenlijf was naakt en tot mijn verbazing merkte ik op dat de dans me een tikkeltje buiten adem had gemaakt. Ik kon mijn lijf ruiken. Het was een niet onaangename geur die moeilijk in woorden te vatten is, maar die de sensatie opriep seksuele opwinding. 

Ik tilde haar in mijn armen. Ze vleide haar hoofd tegen mijn borst en sloeg haar armen om mijn nek. Het is niet ongebruikelijk voor ons Soort om je openlijk over te geven aan je verlangens, maar ook bij ons is het bekend dat Mensen dit soort dingen liever privé doen. 

Zo snel als kon leidde ik haar de menigte door. Haar vingers, in elkaar gekruist achter in mijn nek maakten zachte strelende bewegingen, en zij zonden sensatie door mijn gehele ruggengraat heen. Ik wilde haar, meer dan ik ooit eerder een nimf had bemind.   Het was niet moeilijk om een rustig plekje te vinden. Ik zocht een mooie boom uit waartegen wij konden staan, zodat het spel kon beginnen. Ik zette haar voorzichtig op een tak zodat onze gezichten op één hoogte waren. Ik drukte mijn lippen op de hare. Ze beantwoordde mijn kus, gretig en heftig, warm en nat. Onze tongen speelden met elkaar in een belofte van hetgeen we verder met elkaar zouden gaan doen. Haar handen om mijn nek drukten me tegen haar aan. Om haar evenwicht niet te verliezen sloeg ze ook haar benen om mijn middel. Ik voelde de warme plek van haar kruis tegen mijn buik aan en er ontsnapte me een grom. Ik zelf omvatte haar in een geweldige omhelzing en onze lichamen leken even al één voordat we ook meer een vorm van seks gehad hadden. 

Toen ze haar hoofd achterovergooide en lichtjes hijgde en kreunde liet ik mijn lippen over haar hals glijden en boven haar kleine borsten. Ze rook naar de zomer en voelde bijna net zo heet. Hij lijf kronkelde als een slang tegen het mijne aan. Het truitje wat ze aan had verdween en ik keek tegen haar kleine borstjes aan. De tepels waren donkerrood en gezwollen van de opwinding. Door beide tepels had ze een metalen staafje, hetgeen mijn opwinding iets verminderde; de aanraking van koud ijzer is taboe voor mijn soort. Ik wilde echter wel van haar borsten genieten en ik streelde ze zoveel mogelijk. Vooral de zachte zijkanten en de gevoelige onderkant. Ze kreunde toen mijn vingers er langs gleden, maar haar tepels vermijdden. Juist dat leek haar alleen maar meer op te winden. 

Ze zette zich iets af tegen de tak en duwde zich in mijn armen. Even stonden we los van de boom, en ik zakte langzaam door mijn knieën zodat ze vaste grond onder de voeten kreeg. Ze zette zich neer en voor het eerst keek zij op mijn neer. Maar niet veel, ze was nauwelijks meer dan twee centimeter langer dan ik. Terwijl ze me aankeek maakte ze langzaam haar handen achter mijn nek los. Over mijn schouders trok ze een spoor naar benenden, over mijn gespierde borstkas. Toen ze bij de knopen van mijn broek kwam maakte ze die handig en vastberaden los. Haar handen verdwenen in mijn broek en maakten contact met mijn geslacht. Ik ademde diep in en leunde achterover zodat ze betere toegang had tot wat ik te bieden had, en zij maakte gebruik ervan door mijn broek zoveel mogelijk naar beneden te doen, zodat ik helemaal bevrijd was. Mijn erectie stond rechtop, en haar handen betasten me welwillend. Ik voelde het plezier in me opbouwen, zeker toen ze me met vaardige handen begon te bevredigen. Ik liet me meteen gaan, en kwam klaar over haar handen. 

Ze keek wat verschrikt maar naar wat ze had aangericht, duidelijk teleurgesteld in mijn orgasme. Ik schrok even en dacht dat ik haar had bang gemaakt of afgeschrikt. Maar toen zag ze dat mijn erectie overeind bleef. Ik herinnerde me opeens dat die arme mensen na 1 orgasme vaak een tijd rust moeten hebben, de mannen althans. Wij Satyrs hebben dat probleem niet.. Maar zij wist niet wat ik was. 

Om haar verassing te vergroten liet ik mijn handen onder haar korte rokje verdwijnen. Ik trok haar slipje uit. Ze had echter nog steeds haar been bedekking aan, en ik had geen toegang tot haar heerlijkheden. Maar er zat een gaat in de kleding die ze nog aanhad en ruw pakte ik de randen van het gat en trok die open. Het scheen haar op te winden want ik voelde haar ademhaling weer versnellen. Ik besloot gebruik te maken van mijn fysieke kracht en schepte haar onder haar mooie billen. Ik tilde haar hoog op, zodat mijn lippen dicht bij haar onderste paar lippen waren en ik haar genot kon schenken met mijn mond. Ze smaakte zoals ze eruit zag, wild avontuurlijk en opwindend. Ze steunde met haar onderlijf op mijn bovenarmen en leunde met haar rug tegen mijn onderarmen en handen. Ik tilde haar moeiteloos op terwijl ik van haar lijf bleef snoepen, terwijl mijn erectie beneden door zijn orgasme alleen maar om meer aandacht vroeg. 

Een rilling ging door haar heen, ook haar eerste orgasme kwam vlug opzetten. Ik likte haar door totdat de laatste rilling wegtrok. Aan haar hele houding echter zag ik dat ze nog niet genoeg had gehad. Ik liet haar lijf weer zakken in mijn armen, en boog me voorover. Haar lichaam raakte de grond, ik torende boven haar uit. Mijn sterke armen platen zich aan weerskanten van haar, en ik drong bij haar binnen. Ik zag haar ogen even groot worden van verbazing, zij had niet verwacht dat mijn lid nog stijf zou zijn. Toen dat echter wel zo was gaf ze zich compleet aan me over. Ze ademde langzaam uit en ontspande zich, zodat ik diep en dieper in haar wezen kon doordringen. Ik overdekte haar lijf en gezicht met korte kussen van dankbaarheid, en lust. Die lust nam al snel de overhand in me, en steeds heftiger stootte ik mezelf tussen haar dijen. Al die tijd bleven we elkaar aankijken. Ik vrijde met haar in stilte, op af en toe gekreun en gehijg na, maar zij riep haar God aan, af en toe met snelle, hijgerige kreetjes. Dat gebruik was mij vreemd, maar wond me des te meer op. Toen ze weer in zo'n aanroep zat merkte ik dat ze een tweede orgasme bereikte, en door de spanning in haar lijf ik ook. Ik stootte wat harder en dieper dan ik al deed, en terwijl zij klaar kwam, kwam ik ook een tweede keer klaar. 

Mijn nimf sloot de ogen en zuchtte eens diep. Daarna deed ze haar ogen een stukje open en keek me aan: "....meer...." fluisterde ze. Het wakkerde mijn nauwelijks sluimerende hartstochten opnieuw aan. Ik wilde echter dit keer kijken hoe ze me bereed. Terwijl we nog één waren tilde ik haar weer op en zette haar op mijn schoot. Ze nestelde zich dichter tegen me aan, en mijn erectie verdween nog een stukje dieper in haar. Het tempo werd nu bepaald door haar, want zij drukte met haar voeten zich op en neer over mijn geslacht. Ik kon haar nu niet meer aankijken want ze had de ogen gesloten, en verkeerde in haar eigen wereld van genot. Haar opwinding werd echter wel gespiegeld in haar houding, en sleepte mij ook weer mee. Het gevaar van brandwonden negerend liet in mijn handen even over haar volledige borsten gaan en nam haar tepels met metaal staafjes even tussen mijn vingers. Ik trok er even hard aan en voelde hoe ze erop reageerde. Onmiddellijk werd ik meegesleept in een nieuw orgasme en weer kwam ik klaar ik haar.  

Mijn geslacht bleef hard, zoals bij ons gebruikelijk, en in de ban van genot vroeg ze me fluisterend: "Hoe vaak....?" 

"Voor eeuwig..."fluisterde ik terug. 

Ze vroeg niets, niet eens hoe dat mogelijk was. Het enige wat ze zei is: "...zolang je wilt dan..." 

En de nacht was inderdaad erg lang.....



Erotische Geschichten schreiben



(Inspiriert von Brenoite Groult)

Nicht ohne eine gewisse Scheu mischte ich mich unter die zweifelhafte Schar der Schriftsteller, die versucht haben, auf einem jungfräulichen Blatt Papier jene Freuden dingfest zu machen, die man die fleischlichen nennt, die einem aber zuweilen heftig bis tödlich das Herz angreifen. Und ich entdeckte, wie vermutlich viele unter ihnen, und wie die noch viel zahlreicheren, die irgendwann aufgegeben haben, daß die Sprache sich wenig hilfreich zeigt, wenn man den Zauber, die Schönheit und die Verzückung der Liebe ausdrücken will, jene äußerste Lust, die die Grenzen des Lebens auflöst und in uns Gefühle gebiert, von denen wir nichts ahnten. Ich weiß, daß mir Lächerlichkeit auflauert, daß meine erlesenen Gefühle der Banalität nicht entkommen können, und daß jedes Wort nur darauf wartet, mich zu verraten, jedes Wort: jämmerlich oder vulgär, fad oder grotesk, wenn nicht gar abstoßend.

Wie soll ich ganz nach meinem Herzen jene Auswüchse oder Einwüchse benennen, in denen das Begehren sich ausdrückt, sich auflöst und wieder ersteht? Wie soll man anrühren, indem man "Koitus" sagt? Co-ire, gewiß, zusammengehen und, in deutscher Sprache, zusammen-passen. Was wird jedoch aus der Lust zweier Körper, die zusammengehen, weil sie zusammenpassen? Und Penetration? Klingt ungemein juristisch. "Ist es zu einer Penetration gekommen, Fräulein XY?"

"Unzucht treiben" gehört in den Dunstkreis von Beichtstuhl und Sünde. Und "Kopulation" klingt nach Mühsal, "Begattung" klingt tierisch, "schlafen mit" ist langweilig und prüde. Oder lieber "das Schatz-Kästlein aufschließen", "den Specht Hacken lassen", oder "die Liebesgrotte abkühlen" Dies sind leider in Vergessenheit geratene Ausdrücke, heitere Erfindungen einer jungen, unbekümmerten Sprache, die sich noch keine Zügel hatte anlegen lassen.

Heutzutage, in einer Zeit der verbalen Inflation, wo sich die Wörter noch schneller abnutzen als die Kleider, bleiben uns nur noch die schweinischen Wörter oder die Wörter aus der Nutten-Sprache, die durch ständige Verwendung ihre Farbe verloren haben. "Bumsen"? Wie erniedrigend. Und "vögeln" hört sich nach Schellverfahren an. Und dann gibt es auch noch das brave "Ins Bett gehen", es steht allzeit zur Verfügung und hat kaum noch einen emotionalen, sinnlichen oder erotisch-skandalösen Beiklang. Es ist literaturunfähig geworden, gewissermaßen.

Und wenn die Rede auf die Organe kommt, die besagte Lust kanalisieren und vermitteln, dann warten auf den Schriftsteller, und noch mehr wahrscheinlich auf die Schriftstellerin, neue Klippen. Und wir bemerken, daß es in der deutschen Sprache keine brauchbaren Worte für jene primären Merkmale gibt, die uns doch eigentlich soviel Freude machen (können). Ein richtiges Problem: Schwanz und Möse: es sind kaum unerotischere Worte denkbar. So richtige "Kalte-Dusche-Worte". Und wenn die Sprache keine Worte bereitstellt, muß man fast Absicht unterstellen im orwellschen Sinne. 

Was schließen wir daraus? Wenn die Sprache absichtsvoll keine Worte bereithält? Wir, weil uns schlicht die Worte fehlen, nicht darüber reden können? Wirft dies nicht ein bezeichnendes Licht auf das gespannte Verhältnis der deutschen Gesellschaft zu der "Schönsten Sache" der Welt?

Um wie vieles leichter hat es da die englische Sprache, die nur selten lächerlich, gestelzt oder gar vulgär klingt.

Was ich noch akzeptieren kann, ist "Männlichkeit", "Stärke", "Schwert", "Liebespfeil", "Er", aber es sind alles nur schwache Substitute. "Liebesgrotte" ist einfältig. "Erdbeerkörbchen" etwas besser. "Bärenauge " - na ja. Von den "Lippen" zu reden, geht ja noch, auch und gerade wegen der Doppeldeutigkeit. Aber: "Brüste"? Da muß ich an hängebrüstige, alte Matronen denken. Schwieriges Problem, und nicht lösbar. "Zwillinge"? Das finde ich angemessen. Und erinnert an das Hohe Lied Salomos. Aber was bedeutet ein schönes Wort für all das, was ich beschreiben möchte?

"Thomas Rute war zum Bersten steif..." "Wolfgangs Phallus ragte empor, majestätisch, schreckerregend..." "Das Gemächt des stellvertretenden Direktors..." "Dein geliebter Hodensack..." "Sein Penis, ihre Scham, ihr Liebesschlupfloch... ; Regina, deine Vagina... deine Klitoris, liebe Doris..." Klitoris? ich rieche Formalin aus dem Sektions-Saal. "Murmel"? "Perle"? Schon besser. Vielleicht.

Wie könnte man da der Komik entrinnen? Wenn es sich um Sex handelt, verliert sogar die Anatomie ihre Unschuld, und die Wörter, diese verdammten Schurken, die ihr Leben unabhängig von uns führen, zwingen uns feststehende Bilder auf und verbieten einen unbefangenen Gebrauch. Sie gehören zum Medizinerlatein oder zum Schund-Vokabular, zum Pennälerjargon oder zur Gossensprache. Wenn sie überhaupt existieren. Denn das Vokabular der weiblichen Lust erweist sich, sogar bei den größten Autoren, als bestürzend armselig.

Man müßte alles vergessen und neu beginnen können, angefangen von der Fachpresse für Schwellkörper über die Photoromane mit Schleimhaut-Großaufnahmen bis zu den Doppelaxeln der Sex-Akrobaten, die von blasierten, schlecht bezahlten Redakteuren kommentiert werden. Und gründlicher noch müßte man jene modische Hoch-Glanzerotik vergessen, die von einer gewissen "philosophischen" Schickeria propagiert wird; leider gehört es zum guten Ton, sie zu schätzen, weil der intellektuelle Jargon ihre Schändlichkeit, die Demütigung der Frauen, vernebelt. Frei machen müßten wir auch unsere Sinne von den billigen "erotischen" Filmen, mit denen uns das Nachtprogramm des Fernsehens uns verwöhnt. Sie haben nichts mit wirklicher Erotik zu tun. So wenig wie die Anleitungen und Kochbücher selbst ernannter Experten oder die uns über vermeintliche Interna oder dem neuesten Trend informieren - wollen. 

Ich verfüge über keinerlei Wissen, das andere nicht hätten, über keinerlei Worte, die andere nicht schon überstrapaziert haben. Es handelt sich keineswegs um eine Reise in unbekannte Gefilde: Es gibt kein unentdecktes Atlantis der Liebe. Und letztlich gibt es nichts Banaleres als eine Möse, es sei denn zwei Mösen; und ein Phallus aus extrasamtiger Herrenhaut wird, wenn seine Zeit gekommen ist, genauso leergepumpt sein wie ein Schwanz der profansten Sorte.

Die Vorsicht würde also dazu raten, die Sache gar nicht erst anzufangen, zumal zwischen den gefährlichen Klippen der Pornographie und des Groschenromans die ganz wenigen Meisterwerke aller Literaturen, die sich lachend über all diese Gefahren hinweggesetzt haben, in kühnem Glanz erstrahlen. Aber erst hinterher, im Falle eines Mißerfolgs, erscheint die Vorsicht als eine Tugend. Ist Literatur nicht immer unvorsichtig? Und schließlich ist das Risiko so schön, die ersten Zeilen einer "unmöglichen Geschichte" trotz allem hinzuschreiben: "Ich war fünfzehn, als in mein Herz, und für immer die Liebe, in mein Leben getreten ist. jedenfalls hielt ich es damals für mein Herz."