Pleasure in the Unlikeliest Places

In the following erotic fiction, a woman realizes that the most intoxicating pleasure is sometimes found in the most unexpected places. Read on… Pleasure in the Unlikeliest Places - An Erotic Story The first time that she saw Jamie, she wanted him and she did not even know it. It was not until the third time that she met him, and he looked at her that she realized that anything was there for her and she still didn’t think about making anything out of it. He was not her type; Jamie was none of her check marks. None of the things that she wanted for herself, none of the things that she wanted in a partner. But when Jamie looked at her, she was mesmerized. Mesmerized by the color of his eyes and the intensity of his gaze. She hadn’t expected that intensity, or for it to have such an effect on her, and it seared her memory. It was easy for her to continue their flirtation as they became part of each other’s social circle, and then later friends, but then maybe this was because she did not expect anything. When there was no expectation, it was effortless to be totally at ease with him. When Jamie asked her out to dinner, she never assumed he was asking her out on a date, and this time was no different; it just seemed like they were just going to hang out. But after this meal, as they were saying goodbyes, Jamie pulled her close to him and kissed her cheek affectionately; and, for the first time, Florentine realized she wanted him to kiss her lips, desperately. Where had that feeling come from? She tilted her head up toward him with a pout, expecting him to kiss her other cheek as well. Instead, Jamie suddenly shifted his hands to her hips and pulled her close to him, his lips now firmly upon hers. Just that simple contact made her knees suddenly weak, while deep within her body began to ache for him. She groped him without thinking, and felt his desire…not between his legs. But in the way that he responded to her touch. ‘You’re so sexy, you are going to get me in trouble…’ he said into her hair. ‘Why?’ she looked up at him, silhouetted by the full moon beyond him. ‘Because you are making it hard for me to be a gentleman Flo…’ No one ever called her Flo. Everyone called her Florentine, and his use of the cute diminutive had always seemed more reason for her to not take him seriously. But, for the first time in her life, she was going to listen to her body and do what her body wanted. Her body wanted Jamie. ‘I never asked you to be a gentleman…’ she purred against his chest. Jamie kissed her again, and she put her hands on his chest, half swooning from his growing passion. ‘Be careful what you don’t ask for…’ he whispered in her ear. Florentine chuckled, and quieted as he squeezed the side of her breast tenderly. She let her hand slip in the back of his pants. ‘Come home with me…’ he said. Nodding into his chest, Florentine nibbled at his ear and neck with impatience, very happy to distract him from his phone as he ordered a car. Then they waited in the dark, kissing against the wall kissing like horny teenagers who were only just trying to hide. The driver looked at her appreciatively as she climbed in. She liked that; she liked that Jamie could see that other people wanted her. He put his hand on her thigh as he joined her on the backseat, barely waiting for the car to rejoin traffic before he slipped that hand just under her skirt and began kissing her again like they had kissed before. As they tumbled into his bed, she found herself totally without inhibition, and Jamie worshipped her body with his mouth like she was the only woman in the world. Any of her vulnerabilities were soothed by his attentions as he made her feel a pleasure like she hadn’t experienced for far too long. Her best toys didn’t hold a candle to the sensation that he made her feel; the weight of him, and the way that he filled her. Her eyes watered at the pleasure of the fullness of him inside her. Florentine fell asleep beside him easily, not thinking for a moment about sneaking out to avoid an awkward morning-after. He pulled her into him, and curled over her body as he kissed her neck. When she woke up the sun was coming up, and Florentine’s breath caught. She was still in his arms, and his embrace had not slackened. When she shifted, he settled her closer to him. So she closed her eyes, and went back to sleep. After that, it seemed two days couldn’t go by that they didn’t find themselves in each other’s beds, engulfed in passionate ecstasy she had forgotten she would even experience. She was beyond blissed out that she was with him; never having imagined that she would want something like that with him, but now unable to see herself without it. ‘You can leave stuff here, you know? I cleared out a drawer for you and got some toiletries for you. I got a guest toothbrush.’ Exhausted after a mid-afternoon quickie, Florentine’s half-closed eyes were suddenly wide. ‘I mean now that we are together all of the time. I just wanted to make you feel at home.’ Her eyes widened even more, and Jamie looked at her with a combination of confusion and surprise. He was naked and beautiful, telling her that he was making room for her in his life when she never even considered that she really wanted him in her life. Her body was perfumed with his sweat, and she could smell their lovemaking high between her legs. Jamie had serious bedhead, and he looked so kind. And he wanted her. He was everything she wanted, because she hadn’t wanted it. Rather than embarking on a purely practical relationship that marked the end of romance, she was being romanced like she never had been before, by a man who she did not even think she could ever be serious about. Why had her list not included tenderness, warmth, and character? What he had was modest, but he had a lot of pride in it. He cooked her dinner, and it was better than dinner at the fancy restaurants that her dates usually took her too. And for all his lack of cockiness, he was able to tune her body like the fine machine it was. ‘You’re too lovely to me,’ she said, looking down bashfully. ‘I just want to be more than just lovely to you.’ She let him take her in his arms, and she realized far from the end of romance, it was the very beginning…

Varanje - Izgube

Vstopila je v spalnico, tiho zaprla vrata za sabo, se naslonila nanje, zaprla oči in globoko vdihnila. Počutila se je šibko, stopila je proti postelji, med previdnimi koraki je sezula črne salonarje, pustila jih je ležati na tleh, kot so padli, usedla se je na posteljo in se zvrnila vznak. Tako je ležala kar precej časa in strmela v strop. Poskušala je razčleniti občutke, pa je povsem brezbrižno ugotovila, da ne občuti ničesar. Povsem je bila otopela. Dvignila se je, si z rokami pogladila lase in vstala. Začela je hoditi gor in dol po spalnici in si med tem odpenjala gumbe na črni srajci. Pustila je, da je mehko zdrsela z rok in padla na tla. Nato je odpela zadrgo na prav tako črnem krilu, ga povleka navzdol, čez boke, nato je tkanina kar sama kot spolzela po nogah, oblečenih v gladke, črne, samostoječe najlonke. Prestopila je krilo in naredila še nekaj korakov po sobi. Obstala je pred ogledalom, zazrla se je v svojo podobo v njem in se usedla na rob postelje. Umaknila si je pramen rdečakstih las, ki ji je silil na obraz.
'Bledica mi prstoji ...' je pomislila in opazovala svoj obraz v ogledalu.
'Sem lepa?' se je povsem brezčutno vprašala. 'Sem še vedno lepa, sem sploh kdaj bila?'
Začudila se je nad mislimi, ki so se ji porajale, zdele so se ji plehke in povsem neprimerne v tem trenutku, ko pa je vendar v življenju bilo toliko primernejših za takšna vprašanja.
Ravno je pokopala moža. Nesreča na avtocesti, na službeni poti v tujini. Pred obraz si je priklicala podobo ženske. Mlade ženske, ki je s strani opazovala obred in pred koncem izginila kot kafra. Visoka, vitka svetlolaska, z ravno tako bledim obrazom, katerega skoraj polovico so prekrivala dizajnerska črna sončna očala. Ljubica. Prav tako poročena, z dvema majhnima otrokoma. Njuni trije otroci so bili že odrasli, samostojni.
'Škoda, da ni bila z njim v avtomobilu ...' je zlobno pomislila, a je to misel v trenutku obžalovala, se je celo sramovala. Bi bilo zaradi tega kaj lažje? Ni bila ne prva, ne ... no, zadnja je vsekakor bila.
Dejstvo, da je imel ljubice, je ni nikoli pretirano ganilo. Vedela je za to zadnjo, kot je vedela za vse poprej. Ni je ganilo, do trenutka, ko so za to zvedeli njuni otroci. Na pogrebu so vsi trije pihali od besa, ko jim je potrdila domnevo, da je ženska, ki stoji ob strani, ena od njih. Trenutna. Zadnja. V tistem trenutku jo je popadla jeza. Zdelo se ji je, kot bi otroci bili oropani normalnega žalovanja za svojim očetom, saj so se poleg tega morali spopadati še z občutki jeze, zgroženostjo, vsi so bili zaprepadeni ob dejstvu, da si je drznila prikazati, njej pa se je zdelo nekako prav, če si je odkrito priznala. Mar ni imela tudi ona pravice se posloviti od človeka, s katerim je bila v razmerju, čeprav skritem in prepovedanem?
Ni pričakovala od otrok, da bi to razumeli.
Vedela je, da jo čaka pogovor na to temo, pa ni bila ravno prepričana, da želi o tem govoriti z njimi. Kaj pa naj jim reče?
Da je bil to edinstven primer? Ali resnico, da jih je bilo kar precej v teh njunih letih skupnega življenja?
Kdaj in kako se je začelo, niti ni vedela, bila mu je hvaležna za diskretnost, nikoli se ni razvedelo, njej pa je bil občutek pripadnosti in zvestobe pomembnejši navzven, za okolico, prijatelje, znance, kot pa v njunem odnosu. Na zvestobo ni nikoli gledala kot na neko vrlino, moralno vrednoto. On je to vedel, pa vendar ni imela občutka, da bi bili njegovi skoki čez plot posledica tega njenega mišljenja. V smislu, da ima zeleno luč. Ne, prepričana je bila, da ni bilo tako.
Bila je mnenja, da je njun zakon dober, spretno sta krmarila skozi skupno življenje, lepo sta si ga uredila, otroci so imeli varen, topel in ljubeč dom. Med njima pa res nikoli ni bilo tiste posebne energije, kemije, strasti.Pristala sta skupaj po spletu čudnih naključij, oba strta in razočarana, ostala sta skupaj zaradi udobja in ugodnosti, varnosti, kar jima je nedvomno nudilo njuno razmerje. Seks je bil vedno nekako ... zadovoljiv, tudi osrečujoč, kaj več pa se v njuni postelji ni nikoli zgodilo.
Pogosto se je spraševala, kakšne so te ženske, s katerimi se zapleta, zaradi česa jih izbira, kaj imajo, kaj mu dajo, kakšen je z njimi, ali one kdaj zbudijo v njem tisto, česar ona nikoli ni, mu popustijo zavore, iz njega plane strast in jih pofuka kot žival? Ali je vse skupaj mlačno, dolgočasno, mogoče nežno in ljubeče? Se v njih zaljubi, jih zbira kot trofeje? Ugotavljala je, da o tej njegovi plati pravzaprav ne ve ničesar, prav tako kot on ni nič vedel o njeni. Nikoli se nista o tem pogovarjala, kdo ve zakaj. Dala mu je vedeti, da ve za te njegove izvenzakonske podvige, na kar ni nikoli z ničemer reagiral, ona pa mu ni prirejala scen na to temo ali mu karkoli očitala in metala v obraz. Tako je pač bilo.
Sama se nikoli ni imela za pretirano seksualno, ni bila požiralka moških, lomilka src, nikoli ni opazila, če je komu mešala glavo in burila domišljijo, bila je hladna, zadržana, nedostopna. Res redko je kdo nanjo napravil vtis, še redkeje ji je kdo pospešil bitje srca in pognal kri po žilah. Zato njena zvestoba ni bila ravno vprašljiva in pod preizkušnjami, saj kljub neskončnim možnostim, ki jih je ponujala odsotnost moža, enostavno ni bilo nikogar, ki bi se je v tem smislu dotaknil. Občutka, da mu mora vrniti, oziroma 'če on, bom pa tudi jaz', pa nikoli ni imela.
Sama sebi se je zdela večja od tega.
Dokler ni srečala njega. Takrat so se ji resno zamajala tla pod nogami. Ta moški jo je popolnoma očaral, prevzel, obnorel. Spoznala sta se naključno, preko znancev in takoj, ampak res takoj je bilo med njima čutiti tisto edinstveno energijo. Kemijo v pravem pomenu besede. Ozračje med njima se je kar iskrilo, pogovarjala sta se sproščeno, kot da se poznata že leta dolgo in hitro sta ugotovila, da imata precej skupnih točk, da si delita poglede na določene stvari in malce čudaški, bizaren smisel za humor. Tistikrat je prišla domov vsa raztresena, zmedena, z žarečimi očmi in zardela v lica. Zaljubljena.
Česar si seveda ni priznala in ne glede na to, kako se je trudila, si ga ni mogla izbiti iz misli. Naključje (ali mogoče ne) pa je hotelo, da sta se pogosteje srečevala, si izmenjala telefonski, se srečala tudi zasebno in prav kmalu pristala v postelji. Pa ne samo v postelji, fukala sta dobesedno vsepovsod, kot dva trapasta najstnika, popolnoma se jima je odpeljalo, ko sta bila skupaj in nič, prav nič ni bilo pomembno, kot da resnično življenje ne obstaja. Oboževala sta se, med njima ni bilo predsodkov, o vsem sta se pogovarjala, vse sta počela, iz nje je potegnil na plan vse, za kar niti sama ni vedela da obstaja. Njen čustveni svet, ki nikoli ni bil ravno barvit, so zaradi njega pretresali najbolj neverjetni odtenki s palete čustev, od najbolj prefinjeno nežnih in ljubečih, vse do zastrašujoče uničujočih, rušilnih, nevzdržnih.
To njuno razmerje je trajalo precej časa, prav gotovo je bilo to najsrečnejše obdobje v njenem življenju, ob njem se je počutila tako živo, lahko je bila ona, takšna kakršna je, bila je srečna, počutila se je ljubljeno, fuk pa je bil fantastičen, nadnaraven, vzdrhtela je vsakič, ko je pomislila na njegove roke, kako jo trdo držijo, medtem ko se divje zaganja vanjo, na njegov jezik, na njegove poljube.Vzdrhtela je vsakič, še leta po tem.
Osrečeval, zadovoljeval jo je, pa ne samo njenega telesa, pač pa tudi njeno dušo, njen um. Okoliščine so seveda bile takšne, kot so bile, nenaklonjene njuni ljubezni. Razšla sta se, ona se je povsem umaknila in prekinila sta vse stike, počilo ji je srce, težko se je pobrala, zbrala in še naprej živela navidez tako srečno in popolno življenje, ki so jima ga zavidali vsi prijatelji in znanci. Popoln par. Vsak s svojimi skrivnostmi.
Kasneje je od skupnih znancev izvedela, da se je poročil in ima dva otroka. Takrat ji je topa bolečina kljuvala v prsih, ponovno jo je zlomilo, sama sebi se je zdela pomilovanja vredna, ko je razmišljala, da bi vendar ona morala biti tista, ki bi mu rodila otroke. Le kako, ko pa jih je rodila drugemu moškemu?
Velikokrat se je spraševala, kaj neki bi porekel njen dragi mož, če bi jo videl, če bi vedel kakšna je bila z njim. Ko je klečala na kolenih pred njim in hlastala po njegovem kurcu, on pa je okoli dlani navil njene dolge lase. Ali ko ji je puščal odtise zob na telesu, ji renčal v uho da je njegova prasica, ko je v visokih petah in samostoječkah, prislonjena ob zid s steklenim pogledom moledovala, naj ji že končno zarine kurca, ko ... kaj bi rekel?
Pa ne samo za fuk, kaj bi rekel na njune pogovore, prešeren, sproščen smeh, najbolj nore ideje? Bi mu bilo sploh mar, bi bil presenečen, bi ga jezilo, bi sam poskusil kaj takega, ali morebiti tako fuka z drugimi, je ob njih tako sproščen in brezskrben?
Nikoli ni izvedela, povedala mu ni, sam pa ni z ničemer dal vedeti, da ve za to njeno afero, čeprav se ji je zdelo nemogoče da ne bi opazil. Sprememb na njej, nasmeha ki se ji je izrisoval na obrazu, rdečice, ki ji je silila v lica in iskrivih oči.
Po tem skritem razmerju ni bila več ista, veliko v njej umrlo, veliko se je na novo rodilo. Kaj podobnega pa ni doživela nikoli več, nikoli več ni srečala osebe, ki bi jo tako prevzela, s skoraj srhljivo mogočnostjo. Kasneje se je zapletla z še dvema, zakaj točno ... še sama ni vedela. Iz dolgčasa, je morebiti upala, da bo zopet našla tisto nekaj, kar je imela z njim, si je želela da bi še kdo prebudil v njej vse, kar je uspelo prebuditi in oživeti njemu?
Na to si ni znala odgovoriti, dejstvo pa je bilo, da sta jo ti dve avanturici pustili popolnoma hladno, od seksa ni imela nič, nič ni občutila, nobenega zadovoljstva, niti telesnega, čeprav jima ni mogla očitati pomanjkanje strasti, zagnanosti in obvladovanja določenih veščin, ampak to ni bilo niti približno dovolj. Po vsakem fuku se je počutila popolnoma prazno, nekako onečaščeno, kot bi se razdala brez smisla. In tako je opustila skoke čez plot, vse skupaj tako ni imelo pomena.
Takšne in drugačne misli so ji hitele skozi možgane, medtem ko je podrhtevala na robu postelje. Začelo jo je zebsti, v glavi jo je nadležno kljuvalo, po licih so ji polzele solze. Razum je želel definirati, razložiti, razčleniti, tega pa se je z vso silo otepala. Ni zmogla, ni želela in ni hotela razmišljati o tem, katera izguba jo boli bolj.
'Spanje' je pomislila. 'Spanje bo pomagalo. Kot takrat. Mora.'

Avtor: MoodyBlues

Vir: http://blog69.si/varanje-2/izgube/