by Ella Hilton
"You have a very soft-nice voice, but I don't know if I'd call it 'sexy'."
"Oh well. Tell me what you'd say if you wanted to seduce me."
"Are you serious?" an incredulous Mark wanted to know.
"Very," was her only response.
"Well, I'd get very close to you and whisper in your ear that 'I wanted you'."
"Would I feel your breath on my face?"
"Yes as I started to kiss your forehead."
"Would I let you?"
"You'd have no choice. I'd ask you to dance with me."
"Would I?"
"Yes.
We'd be dancing very slow and very close as they played 'Unchained Melody'."
"I love it."
"I'd take my arms and put them around your neck as you pulled me close. Just as you were about to put your head on my should I'd take your chin and tip your face up and kiss you deeply and deliberately."
"Ummm. That would be nice."
"You know Maggie that's not really me."
"No?"
"No."
"What is you?"
"I'd walk up to you, whisper in your ear that from the first moment I'd seen you, I'd wanted you. And ask you to come to my place - or your place with me."
"Just like that?"
"Yep, just like that."
"You know I'd go."
"I'd hope."
"And when we got to your place . . .?"
"I'd pull you close and although I'd feel some resistance at first - I'd begin to kiss your neck."
"You know what I'd do?"
"No, what?"
"I'd run my hands up and down your chest and unbutton your shirt."
"I'd reach under your dress to see if you were wearing panties - If you were I'd take them off."
"I'd grab your belt buckle and undo it - unbutton and unzip your pants."
"I'd unzip the back of your dress and take it off your shoulders as I undid your bra to culp your breasts in my hand and squeeze your nipples."
"I'd reach in your pants and take your cock in my hand as I dropped your pants over your hips and they fell to the floor."
"I'd maneuver you into the kitchen so I could set you on the counter undressing you as we go."
"I'd be massaging your cock as I removed your underwear and shirt."
"I'd sit you on the kitchen counter and kiss you as my hands moved up your thighs."
"I'd open my legs and mouth to you."
"I'd plunge my tongue into your mouth as I placed my thumb on your clit."
"I'd moan and arch my back - pushing myself into you."
"I'd lift your knees slightly as I put my tongue on your clit, still massaging it with my thumb and forefinger."
"I'd begin to buck as I rode your face. I'd put my hands in your hair and tell you to 'eat me'."
"I'd tell you 'Yes, I'll eat your cunny.' I'll lick you until you come on my face."
"I'd be biting my lip and pulling your hair."
"I'd make sure I took my mouth and sucked your clit."
"Yes!"
"As I sucked on it - I'd insert two fingers into your hot wet honey pot."
"Yes! Fuck me with your fingers and mouth."
"You'd be so wet for me."
"Dripping for you."
"Tell me you want me to fuck you!"
"Yes!"
"No tell me!"
"Oh baby, I want to feel your throbbing cock pumping into me. -my mouth and my pussy."
"Do you want it Bad?"
"I want it so badly - I'd do anything for it."
"Would you suck my cock?"
"For all it's worth."
"Oh Maggie, suck me."
Maggie got off the counter - her head was spinning and her knees weak. She wanted him so much. She got on her knees taking his erection in both her hands and as Mark watched, she took the tip of her tongue and licked a glistening drop of moisture off the tip of his cock.
"I'd put just the tip in my mouth as I rolled my tongue around it."
"I'd tell you to 'eat me' Maggie and I would force myself deeper into your mouth."
"I'd begin by sucking you very slowly - with full strokes - from the tip to the base of the shaft. Then I'll go faster and faster, while sucking you harder and harder."
"I'd put my hands in your hair to pull you in deeper."
"I'd meet each of your thrusts fully - and tell you to 'fuck my mouth'."
"I'd tell you to play with yourself while you sucked me."
"I would slide both hands down between my legs."
"Put your fingers insider yourself and think of them as mine pumping you endlessly."
"I'd begin thrusting my pelvis in rhythm to both the sucking of your cock and my fingers working my clit and pussy."
"Oh God baby - you're good."
"I'd tell you I wanted you to fuck me, I want to feel your cock inside me."
"I'd slowly take my cock out of your mouth letting you to keep playing with yourself."
"I'd pout and tell you I wanted you."
"In time."
"Since you were on your knees and I could tell hot you were - I'd lay on my back on the floor and slide my head under your hands. I'd begin licking the backs of your hands but pretty soon
I'd be licking your juices off your own fingers. Before I fuck you Maggie I want to taste you as you come." and begin sucking your clit in earnest while you finger fuck yourself. You're so hot - I want you to come for me - your pussy is just radiating. You begin making this low growling sound deep in your throat. I grab your thighs and move with you as the orgasm hits you. As the tremors begin, I plunge my tongue as far into you as it will go and the rhythmic tremors that rock you travel up my tongue and spread out over me. As its urgency subsides I kiss your clit and sit up to kiss you and notice no hesitation on your part to opening your mouth to me to taste yourself.
I walk you into the bedroom and lay you down on the bed and enter your eager wet cunt. And as I begin pumping in and out I know you were born to this - With boundless passion your were born to give and receive pleasure.
I'd kiss your breasts - gently nip at the hard protruding nipples. Your rhythm would match mine stroke for stroke.
"I'd feel you fill me completely again and again. I'd maneuver you so that I was on top and my pussy would be milking you with every stroke. I'd tell you I want you to come in me - to shoot your seed deep into me. I want to feel it filling me up - dripping out and down the sides of my legs. Give it to me Mark!
Mark fill me. Shoot it into me as that I can feel it in the back of my throat."
"I'd grab your hips and pull you down on my cock as I pushed it up into you. I'd come in great spurts over and over again."
"In the midst of our orgasm you'd sit up and pull me to you and we'd hold each other as if our lives depended on it."
"I'd hold you tight, kissing you, willing this orgasm to go on forever and feeling a sense of loss when it's over."
And that's how Maggie met Mark over and over again, but then the phone rang . . .
"Hi, I'm Maggie."
"Hi, I'm Dave . . . "
The Dawning of the Day
I watched as the sun peaked it's brilliant orange head up over the horizon. I marveled at the colors of the sky, all the reds, purples, and blues indicating the dawning of a new day.
I hadn't been able to sleep in days, and the only thing that had kept me going was to watch the sunrise as I sat on my front porch, a cup of coffee in hand, and a notebook on my lap.
I am a writer for the local newspaper. It wasn't as though I had had any training for the job, I had happened on it by chance when I first moved to this sleepy little town. They were in need of a writer and having dabbled in short stories and poetry I thought that I could help them out. The boss, Mr. Tate, didn't care much that I had had no real training in journalism and as long as I could write a column everyday to keep these good old country boys happy
I'd keep my job.
My job was to write about the goings on in the town of Westline Missouri, and to tell the truth there wasn't that much going on. It was one of those towns that if you blinked while driving through it you missed the town. There was one main road that stretch the entire length of the town and the rest were small gravel roads that branched off to the small houses of the people who lived there.
About the only thing I ever wrote about was the town dinners the church would hold, or the fact that Mr. Doublin, the town drunk, had again been arrested Saturday night and was released on that next day so that he too could attend Sunday service.
I had started to doubt moving here. I had wanted to get away from the city, to go down to where there would be peace and quiet, and I could get away from the memories of an old boyfriend that I had recently broken up with. I found a beautiful old farmhouse down there and bought it without a second thought. I loved it when I first came here, and the townspeople helped out a lot to restore the house to living conditions. It was so quiet and peaceful, you never heard any sounds after nine o'clock but the songs of crickets and frogs. Everyone was in their house and most in bed by that time.
After a couple of months of "living this country life" I started to doubt if I really should have moved down here. There was absolutely nothing to do, and being restless by nature, that was very hard for me. Sure everyone in the town was willing to talk, but most of it was about the weather, or gossip about the other wives in the community.
That was another thing about living here, there were absolutely no single men. They were either older and married or still too young to care anything about. I was getting lonely for a man, and I thought that if I didn't get one soon I might die.
I went about my routine, going to work, joking around with Mr. Tate. He was a character and probably the only one I'd miss if I left. He was a jolly man, he'd never say exactly how old he was but I'd place him in his mid 60's maybe early 70's. He was round, and had a very red complexion. He kind of looked like Santa Clause, and because of this, as he told me, the church had him dress up in the red suit every Christmas for the kiddies. He was always ready with a smile, and joke to start the day off.
We'd sit after hours and I'd pour my heart out to him. He was the only one that I told about the relationship that I had had. I had caught my boyfriend with another woman the day after he had proposed marriage and that was the reason why I had left. I couldn't stand to stay there and look at the bed that my fiancée had fucked another woman in.
I also told him how I was thinking about leaving and going back to the city, I thought that I had had enough time to recuperate and I really needed some excitement. But he said that he would never loose the best columnist he ever had. I knew he was just saying that to make me feel better, and it really did.
This is where I started to have insomnia, it was turning from spring to summer, and at first I blamed it on the heat. I didn't have central air in the farmhouse and it was way too hot to sleep. I knew that it was something more than that. I didn't want to leave Mr. Tate behind but I didn't think I could stay either and the guilt of leaving was what was keeping me awake at night. That and I really needed a man.
It was the morning I spoke of earlier, while I sat in my old rocking chair watching the sun come up over this one horse town that my life changed. I sat there sipping my coffee, wondering what it was I was going to do, stay or leave. As these thoughts were going through my head I heard a car coming up the road.
I thought it was a little odd for a car to be driving around this early. Most people never drove around here, all you had to do was walk a little ways to get where you needed to, and no one ever went into town for groceries or the sort until Saturday.
I watched in curiosity as the car came up over the hill, past the church, and then stopped next to my house. A young man got out of the car, looked around the town scratching his head in confusion. It took all I had not to laugh, I cleared my throat, and he turned around in surprise.
I kept my eye on him as he slowly walked up the drive and on to my front porch. This gave me time to study him, he was handsome, standing about six-foot tall, with dark brown hair, and as he got closer I could see the intense green color of his eyes. He had a pretty mouth for a man, his lips were full, and he held his lips in such away that it always looked as though he was about to say something very important.
I had to place him as a "city person" he didn't have that rugged look of the country. His skin wasn't that leathery tan color of hard working men. I also placed him around my age, mid 20's. I smiled as he approached the steps to the porch.
"Excuse me Ma'am but I'm looking for a town called Westline. I think I'm lost. I haven't seen a road sign in forever and I have a business meeting that I'm going to be late for if I can't find the town."
His voice was nice, a low tenor with just a touch of a southern accent. I couldn't help but laugh then, I didn't mean to but the look of confusion in his face repeated in his voice. "You're standing in Westline." I said after the fit of laughter subsided.
"Oh well, aren't I lucky." He looked around again, "this is a very small town! I'm glad I ran into you, or I would have just past it."
"Tell me about it. May I ask your business here in Westline? Need something to print for the paper this morning."
"Well that's confidential, but I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with that paper you write for."
"Hmmm…I see. So, would you like a cup of coffee or something? You got here a little early. Mr. Tate won't be in the office for a least another hour or so."
"I know and I would love some coffee."
I went in and poured it for him, wondering what it was he wanted with the paper. Mr. Tate hadn't said anything about a meeting, and I was usually the first one he told if anything was going to change. I figured that I would find out soon enough and went back out on the front porch with my new guest.
We struck up a light conversation and I found out that his name was Chris; he was a 26-year-old business major, fresh out of college.
We fell into silence after the regular formalities. I hoped that he would be staying for a while. I could tell that I would like him if I got to know him better, and my mind was racing with thoughts of passion that could happen if he stayed. I broke the silence when I saw Mr. Tate walking down the road. He stood up, shook my hand, and left my porch. I watched him meet up with Mr. Tate and then walked in the house to get my things and be off to work too.
Later that day Mr. Tate came out of the office, with Chris. "Lana, Chris here is going to take over the paper. I'm getting too old and want to spend the rest of my days fishing, and with the wife. He has some good plans to make it bigger and spread it out more over the neighboring towns."
I didn't say anything but the look on Mr. Tate's face said that he wasn't finished yet. "Oh one other thing. Do you think that you can put Chris up in your home? I know it's a big thing to ask but you know Mrs. Tate and me only have the one room and I'd hate to have to put him on the couch. You're place is big and since there's only you living there I thought maybe you could spare a room."
I looked at both the men standing in front of me. Mr. Tate was right I did have a lot of room, and it would be rude to tell him no. I told Mr. Tate that it would be just fine if Chris stayed with me. I watched as a smile came over Chris's face, there was something in his look that I couldn't place my finger on but I shrugged it off and left work. I had to get the room ready that he would be staying in.
Chris had stayed with me for two months, and had been a gentleman the whole time. Sometimes I wished he hadn't been, I would fantasize that he would come into my room and take me, making love to me over and over again until we both collapsed into each others' arms but it never happened. He kept his distance, showing me respect as he worked on the paper.
One night he came into the kitchen while I was getting dinner done. He didn't say anything, just kept staring at me as I chopped up the onions to
put in the tomato sauce I was making.
I looked at him a couple of times but still he said nothing. It was really staring to freak me out, the way he just stared but I said nothing.
Finally, he moved. He came up behind me and snatched one of the cookies I had baked earlier. "You're going to spoil your dinner, eating cookies."
"No, I won't. I'll only eat one promise."
I nodded my head but took note that he hadn't moved from behind me and had actually gotten closer. He put the half-eaten cookie back on the counter and lifted his hands to my shoulders. He began to massage them and I couldn't help but lean back against him. It had been so long since I had felt the touch of a man on any part of my body.