DreamingOfMyEx
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 20, 2019
- Posts
- 557
Feel free to comment, make suggestions, even use one of these ideas to write a story of your own (but please notify me when it's published.)
======================
First idea -- It was just an act:
They were a couple deeply committed to one another. They like to talk and play kinky in the bedroom. One of the things she knows drives him crazy is talking about her with other men (all made-up stories of course) and especially with black men ("you little white boys just can't compare").
Husband (in the military?) goes away for a year or more. She wants to give him a homecoming to remember. She takes him to a hotel and cuffs him to the plumbing in the bathroom. Than she introduces him to her "lover" - a handsome young black man from her acting class who has agreed to play along. Hubby can't see them, but he can hear them in the bedroom. The plan is for her and her classmate to pretend to be making love -- lying on the bed fully clothed, moaning and making the bed move and saying all the right things. But then ... he brushes a bit of hair out of her face as he's leaning above her, getting so close -- he's just whispering in her ear -- obviously not for the husband's benefit -- telling her she's the most beautiful woman he ever met. She whispers "oh god" -- and it is no longer an act. They kiss. His hand moves from her cheek to her breasts. Or.. perhaps between her legs. The clothes don't stay on very long.
What happens next, and over the next few days?
======================
Second idea -- Airport trash:
I work at an airport. Not the commercial aviation side with the major carriers, but general aviation. A lot of expensive private jets come through, and usually there will emerge from one of these jets an extremely attractive woman. Rarely would the woman be the owner. The owner would be a man, someone who may have had a few lucky breaks in life, but who also had to work and make sacrifices to get where he is and to get the things he has. Perhaps he sacrificed his family (or his relationship with his family) with the long hours and frequent travels. Perhaps he was once a nice guy who had to sell his soul and screw over people to get ahead. At any rate, he's made it now.
The woman, on the other hand, had to do no work whatsoever to earn her seat on the jet. All she had to do is be beautiful and sexy and know how to use it.
Watching this woman descend the steps to the waiting limo, I'm so fully aware that despite how wonderful and loving a guy I am, I could never have a woman like this -- and it hurts. It really hurts that life is so unfair, that I didn't get the same brakes as the man who owns the jet. Oh god, I would love and pamper her more than that guy ever could. But now, in my dirty faded and oil-stained jeans and old tshirt, she never considers giving a second look at the riff-raff there tending to the expensive jet and the baggage (perhaps she just returned from a shopping trip in Europe).
Then, as she opens her purse on the short walk to the limo in those impossibly tall spiked heels, a sheet of paper flies out and she says something like "oh dear, someone get that, it's very important" and I tear off after that sheet of paper as if I were an Olympic runner coming off the starting blocks. It's always windy at airports and I have to run quite some distance, at full speed, to finally catch up to it.
I want to look and see what makes this piece of paper so important, but I don't. That would feel wrong, like I'm nothing compared to her and I have no right to snoop. The limo waits for me to return that paper. She waits... impatiently. Why am I not running back as fast as I ran to catch it for her? I'm gassed, but I do manage to jog back to her. I am in the presence of greatness -- of a goddess -- as I meekly approach and with eyes downcast (to look upon her beauty would be disrespectful, I don't deserve to be blessed with such a sight -- but it does give me a good look at those boots) I hold the paper out to her.
With disdain, she takes it from my hand and looks at it. "Oh, this isn't what I thought it was." The goddess merely releases it back into the wind. No "thank you". No pat on the head saying "good boy" ... those incredible legs and sexy boots with the spike heels simply disappear into the limo and it drives away.
---
That evening I watch the lottery drawing and find I possess the sole winning ticket to one of the largest jackpots in recent history. Now I have to find her, to let her know I can buy a much larger and faster jet than the one I saw her in earlier. I'll make sure to keep her happy, and pray that nobody comes along to offer her more than I can.
======================
First idea -- It was just an act:
They were a couple deeply committed to one another. They like to talk and play kinky in the bedroom. One of the things she knows drives him crazy is talking about her with other men (all made-up stories of course) and especially with black men ("you little white boys just can't compare").
Husband (in the military?) goes away for a year or more. She wants to give him a homecoming to remember. She takes him to a hotel and cuffs him to the plumbing in the bathroom. Than she introduces him to her "lover" - a handsome young black man from her acting class who has agreed to play along. Hubby can't see them, but he can hear them in the bedroom. The plan is for her and her classmate to pretend to be making love -- lying on the bed fully clothed, moaning and making the bed move and saying all the right things. But then ... he brushes a bit of hair out of her face as he's leaning above her, getting so close -- he's just whispering in her ear -- obviously not for the husband's benefit -- telling her she's the most beautiful woman he ever met. She whispers "oh god" -- and it is no longer an act. They kiss. His hand moves from her cheek to her breasts. Or.. perhaps between her legs. The clothes don't stay on very long.
What happens next, and over the next few days?
======================
Second idea -- Airport trash:
I work at an airport. Not the commercial aviation side with the major carriers, but general aviation. A lot of expensive private jets come through, and usually there will emerge from one of these jets an extremely attractive woman. Rarely would the woman be the owner. The owner would be a man, someone who may have had a few lucky breaks in life, but who also had to work and make sacrifices to get where he is and to get the things he has. Perhaps he sacrificed his family (or his relationship with his family) with the long hours and frequent travels. Perhaps he was once a nice guy who had to sell his soul and screw over people to get ahead. At any rate, he's made it now.
The woman, on the other hand, had to do no work whatsoever to earn her seat on the jet. All she had to do is be beautiful and sexy and know how to use it.
Watching this woman descend the steps to the waiting limo, I'm so fully aware that despite how wonderful and loving a guy I am, I could never have a woman like this -- and it hurts. It really hurts that life is so unfair, that I didn't get the same brakes as the man who owns the jet. Oh god, I would love and pamper her more than that guy ever could. But now, in my dirty faded and oil-stained jeans and old tshirt, she never considers giving a second look at the riff-raff there tending to the expensive jet and the baggage (perhaps she just returned from a shopping trip in Europe).
Then, as she opens her purse on the short walk to the limo in those impossibly tall spiked heels, a sheet of paper flies out and she says something like "oh dear, someone get that, it's very important" and I tear off after that sheet of paper as if I were an Olympic runner coming off the starting blocks. It's always windy at airports and I have to run quite some distance, at full speed, to finally catch up to it.
I want to look and see what makes this piece of paper so important, but I don't. That would feel wrong, like I'm nothing compared to her and I have no right to snoop. The limo waits for me to return that paper. She waits... impatiently. Why am I not running back as fast as I ran to catch it for her? I'm gassed, but I do manage to jog back to her. I am in the presence of greatness -- of a goddess -- as I meekly approach and with eyes downcast (to look upon her beauty would be disrespectful, I don't deserve to be blessed with such a sight -- but it does give me a good look at those boots) I hold the paper out to her.
With disdain, she takes it from my hand and looks at it. "Oh, this isn't what I thought it was." The goddess merely releases it back into the wind. No "thank you". No pat on the head saying "good boy" ... those incredible legs and sexy boots with the spike heels simply disappear into the limo and it drives away.
---
That evening I watch the lottery drawing and find I possess the sole winning ticket to one of the largest jackpots in recent history. Now I have to find her, to let her know I can buy a much larger and faster jet than the one I saw her in earlier. I'll make sure to keep her happy, and pray that nobody comes along to offer her more than I can.
