Desiring Physical

The warm, smooth, slightly spicy smell of areej perfume still wafts strongly from his left wrist, making his mind return to contemplating the delicate, beautiful things in life. Of course, such thoughts as always bring up the concept of relationships and with them the desire for one and its intimacy. Earlier that evening, he’d been at a Christmas concert with a female friend and found himself sincerely wishing she’d let him pull her close to him and rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers toyed with her silky hair and enjoyed her soft skin, their bodies’ touch providing warmth and comfort in the midst of the crowded listeners. Alas, this was not to be; for she was a hard young lady who was interested in just friends because of personality differences and life journeys. Two days pass, full of productivity.

Monday evening: day fades into sleep, and another dream begins. He has just come home from work after a long, busy day. Leaving his things in their normal places, he goes directly into his bedroom and lies down on the sheetless bed. Just the night before, he’d done laundry; but because the first dryer had refused to dry his clothes, he’d had to stay up late to make sure that the second one did its job properly. In the end, he got dry clothes, but he was so tired by then that he just used a sleeping bag that night. Now, as he lies on the bed, he dreams of a knock on his door. Rising, he opens it to see a beautiful, curvy, dark blond girl there, whom he recognizes but has no recollection of where they met. She, too, seems to have the same reaction and brushes past him as if they’d been best friends forever. He closes and locks the door after her and asks, “So, how was your day?” As he speaks, he can’t help but admire her well-supplied chest, the bountiful breasts angling down at about a forty-five degree angle and pointing out to each side a little, strongly suggesting a very pleasant hug and squish. Her golden hair compliments her cream-colored skin beautifully, a light sheen of soft hairs just barely visible along her lower arms.

She sighs tiredly and unties her incredibly long, thick, wavy hair, letting it cascade around her shoulders and down her back. “Long. And tiring. All I want just now is to relax and cuddle.”

“At last the moment I’ve been waiting for!” he triumphs inside. Out loud, he replies, “Alright girl, I’m your man, then. Come this way.”

A shiver of excitement passes through both of them, causing her nipples to harden and poke through her bra a little. “So awkward!” she complains to herself, but she can’t help eagerly anticipating this guy’s body. Although he’s slender, she can tell from his build that what’s under the clothes is just muscle and bone—little to no fat on him whatsoever, just what she loves. He, too, notices her well-rounded arms, hips, and thighs. As a soccer player, she has very well-defined muscle bouncing gently on her legs, and her short shorts leave little too the imagination, barely covering her hips. Her hourglass figure and large hips make the perfect view as she walks beside him, her DD breasts shifting to her gate. On such a narrow chest (only size 34), these breasts are the most stunning he's ever seen. In the bedroom, she pulls off her shirt and leggings, leaving just a navy blue sports bra and a light grey pair of boxers. He pauses for a moment, awed by her beautiful form. She collapses onto the bed and opens her arms wide, inviting him to come to her. He quickly complies, taking off his shirt and khakis before settling himself down beside her.

This is a new experience for him. Having never had a girlfriend before, he has absolutely no idea of what touching a girl is like save for the few times he’s front-hugged his close friend back in college. That was a long time ago (over 1.5 years), and this experience promises to be (and already has been) completely different.

“Come!” she whispers enticingly as she wraps her smooth, soft-skinned arms around him, draping one over his shoulders and threading the other one between his side and the bed. She pulls him close and arches her back, pressing those delicious breasts into his chest. Pausing, she shakes her head and says, “Not quite right—let me take this off because it’s in the way.”

Sitting up, she removes the bra, revealing her breasts in all their glory: Firm and smooth, yet just the right amount of squish to make them perfectly huggable, enough side-to-side flop to make them fun to play with, yet full enough to avoid sagging, their nipples perfectly round and protruding to invite a tongue and nibbling, surrounded by narrow areolas matching the nipples and slightly darker than the breasts' skin. As she had suspected, the nipples were very erect and the areolas tightly wrinkled from the excitement. “My boxers, too?” she questions.

“I’ll leave that up to you—whatever you feel right.”

“Then not right now. You’ll get to feel, though.”

She lies back down after flinging the bra over to her shirt and pants and resumes her position against his body, her arms encircling him. He strokes her head, tosses her hair, and enjoys the physical contact he’s longed for so long. Her hair smells amazing. Soon, his hands work their way around her neck and shoulders, tickling her ears, batting at her earlobes, jingling the earrings, and soon working their way down her shoulders onto her chest just above her breasts. There they rest for a few seconds, before one hand migrates between the two regal cones and begins stroking. The other soon joins it, each hand adopting the corresponding breast and working up, down, around, and under. She arches her back more and twists her shoulders in pleasure. Pausing their navigation, his hands at the breasts tips, he clasps the areolas in his palms and begins squeezing on and off while pushing in and then pulling out.

All this elicits a sharp, deep gasp and a strong moan of pleasure, followed by grunts and pelvic thrusting. Surprised, he finds himself in a puddle of liquid that seems to have come from nowhere. Looking down, he sees her boxers completely soaked on the front. He then notices that she is quivering gently and otherwise lying quite still, while a very small, gentle smile flashes across her face, her eyes closed in the moment’s ecstasy. Orgasm.

His hands run along the outside of her breasts, between them and her arms. He pulls her close despite the wetness at their crotches, pressing himself against her body, their faces together. He squeezes tightly and then lets his hands gently slide down her back to her hips. There, his hands find their way under her boxers and begin stroking again, the left one slowly working its way around the top, the right one going underneath. She lifts her pelvis slightly, easing the weight keeping his right hand from doing its work. As his hands arrive at her mons, he suddenly stops—completely smooth skin, not a single piece of hair. His hands get to work quickly, gently brushing circles, rectangles, and oblongs over the skin. As he does this, he can feel that her mons is very swollen, making it noticably bigger than its already noticeable size. He's very eager to see and feel it all more.

“Wait!” she commands. “The boxers are in the way, now, too.” She gets up, strips them off, and now stands before him completely naked. Lying back down, she replies, “Continue!”

Without the boxers’ constraining fabric, his hands return to work, this time much more deftly. Slowly, they work closer and closer to the labia majora. Soon, his fingers are resting on the very edges and are tickling the inward curve. Because of the swelling, her vulva is already open, showing off her smaller, darker labia minora and her bright pink clitoris, which has also come out of hiding from the clitoral hood. The dampness around his fingers increases, encouraging him to continue, taking advantage of the natural lubrication to slide three of one hand’s fingers in and begin exploring the warm, soft dampness inside. The clitoris comes next, its little bump providing the perfect opportunity to excite her more.

Here he pauses his fingers' work and lays her on her back. Opening her legs, he gently spreads the labia mayora even more and begins kissing her vulva and sucking a little on the clitoris, each action provoking stronger and stronger vaginal contractions. Adding to this already very strong stimulation, he slides two fingers into the vagina and begins stroking the bumpy area just behind the clitoris on the vagina's front wall.

Without any warning, the groans and thrusts come faster and harder than ever before, this time accompanied by a loud scream of pleasure, another huge gush of highly pressurized liquid squirting out and covering his hand, arm, and face. He jumps a little, but leaves his hand just as it is, reveling in the pulsating warmth flowing around his fingers and the squeezing softness, adoring the feeling of being part of a girl for once. The contractions continue for a while more, slowly diminishing.

As soon as the dream started, it abruptly ends, leaving him wondering how it could have been so incredibly lifelike. Such is the mystery of desire, of lust, of craving. It leaves him all the more lonely and empty, wishing that this fantastically beautiful girl could be his in both dream and reality.