Double Obsessions

by Charlotte Sloan

To drive home the point of this last sentence, I brought my hands up to my breasts and began to squeeze them beneath the lacy, black fabric, my fingers digging deep into myself, as I pushed my perky, perfect titties together. Strangely enough, I was beginning to settle into this already, feeling at ease with this little burlesque show I was putting on for him, and getting wet as hell at the sudden notion of how turned on he would be once he saw me playing with myself on camera.

  A sudden sense of invigoration began to overtake me.

  “And well...I thought you might be missing these,” I teased, and I began to loop my fingers into the straps of the nighty. I playfully pushed the fabric along, dredging it down for a flash at a time so that my naked tits were briefly exposed, but then hastily pulling the article back up to cover my modesty. I did this repeatedly, my arms never resting as I continued to push my breasts around, my nipples peeking out repeatedly in a manner that I could imagine driving my husband wild.

  Then, finally, I made the plunge, and brought both breasts out into full view, the nighty hanging down about halfway down around my abdomen. Almost immediately, I covered up my nipples with my hands, as though censoring myself. But instead of prudishness, I was beginning to make things more lascivious than ever, squeezing and pushing my breasts around even harder, giving him quite the eyeful of my flesh as I pinched and tugged on my nipples.

  I was seriously beginning to get into this.

  I'd begun to tilt my head back, thrusting my breasts forward toward the camera and moaning lightly as I caressed, until at last I tilted my face back down toward the camera, and smiled devilishly into what I imagined where my husband's eyes.

  Then, slowly, I began to twist my body around on the bed, looking over my shoulder to make sure everything was still in frame, until at last my ass was jutting out toward him, practically popping out into his field of vision in three-dimensions.

  Gradually, I began to peel down the fabric of the nighty, slipping it down along my thighs, down to my knees, slipping it down to around my ankles, until he was left gaping at the splayed treasures of my pussy, full and soft and round, and entirely his to ogle and pleasure himself to.

  And in fact, the thought of him masturbating to this got me even hotter, and I began to follow suit myself, as though somehow this might constitute a round of mutual masturbation at some point down the road.

  Looking over my shoulder at the camera, I lifted a hand and pushed my fingers into my mouth, coating them with saliva, and then drawing them back around. Slowly, I pushed them up inside myself, groaning with satisfaction as I did so, and my pussy beginning to squelch as I massaged the wet, hot flesh. I stroked slowly, carefully, kneading the floral folds of my femininity, my legs beginning to quiver as I fingered myself so relentlessly.

  It wasn't long at all before I began to realize that, all in all, this was as much about me as it was about him, and that my presentation should therefore reflect this fact accordingly. It was then that, after a few last moans and another cruel look of lust over my shoulder at him, I turned my entire body back to face the camera, my breasts heaving toward him and my legs spread wide so that he had a full view of my pussy.

  I reached over into my bedside stand and fumbled around until I retrieved the vibrating dildo that had been my only sexual companion in the months since Danny's deployment. I held it up to the screen, sliding its cold plastic shaft across my lips.

  I began to roll my tongue around the thing, imagining that it was Danny whose immensity I was savoring instead of some stiff, empty material, and then I opened my lips wide. I slowly began to push the thing down into my neck, deep-throating my own dildo, gagging just slightly, but in a manner which I knew would drive him absolutely crazy when he watched it with his own eyes.

  I held steady, and slowly withdrew the wet thing after several seconds, its long, pink shaft now coated with fluid, and ready to be put to good use.

  I angled the laptop's camera down just a degree or two more, angling for just a slightly better view of my spread legs and wet pussy. And then, I began to slide the dildo around through my lips, working the warm flesh around it, before pushing it inside me, swallowing it up into my body, and activating the vibrations.

  And God, did I moan, tilting my head and shivering as that grand feeling echoed through me, making my bones tense up and my knees quiver as I plunged the humming rod in and out of my body. Closing my eyes, I pushed my fingers around myself along with the dildo, stimulating my clit and giving Danny one hell of a show, all the while arching my spine further and further degrees forward, until I thought it seemed next to impossible that I could bend any further without breaking my damn back.

  And as I masturbated, pushing and sliding the artificial penis in and out, in and out, in and out of me, I began to fantasize wildly, to call into memory the sweet, beautiful occasion of the first time Danny and I were in bed together.

  *****

  The memory was soft and warm and fuzzy, nostalgic and bittersweet. Prior to Danny, I’d had very few sexual partners, and for his part, he said the same was true of him. Still, though, he'd had more experience than me I think, and though I felt a little bit clumsy and awkward in certain capacities, he managed to steer me through things very capably, to not only help me navigate our love, but to reach such dizzying heights of ecstasy that I could scarcely even believe it.

  We had begun to kiss on his sofa, his lips hot and wet and sweet, running along my neck and his teeth sinking gently into me, filling me up with so much unbridled desire that I began to push my entire body into him, wanting to be scooped up into his arms and held tightly there forever.

  I began to kiss him even harder, pushing my tongue into him and drilling it toward the back of his mouth, gouging into his beautiful mouth and consuming him as deeply and as thoroughly as I could manage.

  I could feel myself beginning to burn for him as his hands slid along my body, touching and prodding, getting a feel for me and then sinking in, holding on for dear life as I dissolved into a liquid puddle in his grip.

  In any other relationship I'd been in, I'd always been just a little bit hesitant when it came to sex. Not resistant, or unwilling, but uncertain of myself, unsure whether what I was doing was the right thing for me or my life, even when the physical act itself might have been bringing me the utmost pleasure.

  But with Danny, there was none of this doubt anchoring me down—no feeling of speculation or second-guessing myself, no fear that this was just another guy who wanted to use me up and didn't give a damn what the extent of the relationship might have been beyond that and that alone. I wanted him, badly, perhaps even more fiercely than he himself wanted me, and it was showing in the way that I was embracing him.

  Before I knew it, I was dry humping him, on top of him and pushing my body into him, and it was almost embarrassingly clear to him that I was more than ready for this to be taken to its next logical step. He lifted me into the air, sweeping me across the room with his hands on my ass for support, his touch sinking into me and affecting me more intensely than ever.

  The moment I hit the bed, my clothes began to melt away from me, dissolving to the floor and leaving me hotter than ever in my nudity, my bra, my panties, everything stripped away, so that I was wet and sweaty and vulnerable, yet oh so willing to be taken by him.

  Then, he peeled off his shirt, and even now the memory of the fabric peeling away from his massive, toned chest sends goosebumps shooting across my skin. His massive pecs thudded with his breath as his arms seized my waist, taking a firm grip on me as he began to lower his head down between my legs.

  I cringed, eyes wide, pushing up from the bed as his lips kissed those of my pussy for the first time, surprising me, not expecting oral sex on his part this very early on in the relationship. I sure as hell wasn't complaining about the fact, of course, as he dug his capable tongue deep into my cunt like a spade, twisting through me and shifting the earth of my body around, swiping through the floral folds and nibbling on me so perfectly tha
t I thought I might meet an untimely demise before all was said and done.

  His head bobbed rhythmically between my trembling thighs as he ate me, forcing my legs to close, to collapse around his skull with a vice-like force, nearly crushing the beautiful man as he hit the sweetest of sweet spots, and sent wave after wave of splendid orgasm shooting uncontrollably through my body.

  Finally, he pulled his lips from me and climbed up from the bed, his hand on his jeans as he extricated himself from them, his erection hot and hard and more than ready to be put to good use. I think he had it in his mind that he was going to mount me and push down inside me, but so great was my desire for him that I climbed up on top of him and pinned him down almost the instant his flesh hit the sheets.

  Straddling him cowgirl style, my abdomen gyrated, and my pelvis ground up against him, stretching out my trembling cunt with the force of his cock, slamming my body into him, moaning, my head spinning as I bounced up and down on top of the beautiful bastard like a damn pogo stick.

  Every muscle in my body rang with exhaustion as I smashed down one final time on top of him and held myself there, allowing myself to be filled up with his essence as he ejaculated inside me, and my body rang with orgasm yet again.

  *****

  And now, in real life, as the memory reached its climax, I found myself moaning, head spinning, on the verge of bursting as the vibrations of the dildo sent me flying over the edge.

  At last, I slid the artificial cock out from inside me, panting and exhausted with desire, having almost forgotten that I'd been filming this all the entire time.

  I sat there, catching my breath for several seconds and squeezing my naked body together as though trying to collapse in on myself, suddenly very embarrassed about all of this. But I'd already filmed the whole thing, and though I could have easily deleted it, I decided that, somehow, it was far too important to get rid of.

  The sadness of missing him washed over me once again as I looked into the camera eye, breathing, and pretending that it was his own.

  “I love you, babe,” I whispered at last, “And I miss you so much. Please come home soon.”

  And with that, I uploaded the video as an e-mail attachment and sent it flying halfway around the world.

  Once all was said and done, I began to feel an incredible sense of disappointment wash over me. As much as I'd enjoyed making the video for my husband, and as close as it had made me feel to him as it all unfolded, the afterglow of my own self-abuse felt cold and unsatisfying, leaving me wanting so much more than I knew was mine to be had.

  I wanted Danny, not just the memories that could still fuel my masturbatory fantasies, but the flesh and blood him. I longed for his embrace, for his long-awaited return to my life, and yet I knew that his return to me was about as far off as I could imagine.

  Even the thought of it made me shudder, forced me to hug myself for security as I slipped beneath the blankets and closed my eyes.

  *****

  And for so long, that was essentially how I passed my days. They seemed to span on forever, leaving me waiting impatiently for the return of his touch, of his warmth beside me in bed, of his arms squeezing me tightly and never letting go.

  I began to think it would never happen, that I was merely clinging onto hope for something that was a sheer impossibility. It really began to take its toll on me, and even in those fleeting moments when the two of us spoke to one another through webcam, I was left feeling so cut off from the man I loved that it might have been better not to have spoken with him at all.

  And then one day he was with me again.

  It had taken me completely off guard, surprising the hell out of me, and I was speechless at the sight of him standing there in front of the house, in full military regalia, and with a smile on his face that fully acknowledged his massive surprise.

  I thought, in my sheer puzzlement, that it must have been a mirage of some kind, and I waited with baited breath, anxious to see whether or not this could genuinely be the case.

  But then, God help me, he began to move forward, to step in my direction, to get nearer and nearer, and my heart began to race again. It was clear, as he moved toward me, that this was no simple mirage, and I felt myself losing feeling in my legs, not entirely sure how to respond to his looming presence as he came nearer and nearer and nearer, forever closer to touching down, and me still helpless and stupefied as to how the hell I should react. I felt nervous and insanely excited.

  But, for all my uncertainty, at the moment of his arrival, I found myself collapsing into his arms, falling into him, and more than willing to lose myself in the long-forgotten warmth of his embrace. Tears began to flow in abundance, and I kissed him passionately, scarcely able to believe it was really him standing before me and, now that his touch had at last been restored to me, finding myself completely unable to satiate my appetite for him.

  “God. Oh God, I missed you so much,” I gasped through my tears.

  “God, I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.”

  Those were about the only things the two of us managed to speak to one another through the suction of our lips on one another, pressing and twisting and unable to pull ourselves apart, his taste something I missed even greater than I'd realized prior to now.

  My body suddenly ached for him, and I craved intimacy with him, needing to know beyond a doubt that he was really real, that everything I thought was happening was in fact true and tangible. Of course, there were so many questions buzzing through my mind as well: why hadn't he told me he was coming home?

  Had it simply been his goal to surprise me, and if so, how long had he planned to do so? How long would he be staying, or would I have to say goodbye again just as quickly as I said hello?

  But all of that was secondary, and all of it seemed as though it could wait until the two of us had thoroughly reunited, in mind, in body, and in soul.

  Gasping, we hurled our bodies into the house, not even fully closing the door behind us in our excitement, but leaving it just slightly ajar as we paced our way through the halls. Bandit was jumping up and down beneath our feet as Danny spirited me away, and it occurred to me, in the back of my mind, that this place at last felt like a home again, after so long of feeling hollow and empty.

  My initial thought was that we were heading for the bedroom; however, Danny was steering me toward the bathroom instead, and I wasn't about to fight him over it.

  There, to Bandit's disappointment, we closed ourselves inside, and instantly he was on me harder and hotter than ever. He seized my ass and pulled it forward into his pelvis so fiercely that I could feel the thickness of his erection digging into my stomach, and my breasts pooled up against his rock-solid chest.

  I began to unbutton his uniform, my hands trembling as I did so, until I managed to free him from its confines, and began to slide my fingers along the cotton of the tank top he wore underneath.

  He, in turn, brought his hands forward and began to squeeze my breasts, almost in imitation of the video I'd sent him, and I tilted my head back, eyes closed, moaning with sweet, sweet satisfaction.

  He leaned in, then, and planted his lips onto my neck, sinking his teeth into me, feeding on my flesh as though it was the most delectable thing on God's earth. Once he'd gotten his fill, lapping up tears and perspiration and the sweetness of my skin that lay beneath it all, he reached over momentarily to switch on the faucet of the shower, the scalding water pouring down and a thick, white cloud of steam beginning immediately to fog up the cramped room.

  And, appropriately enough, things began to heat up in earnest from there. Though the underlying current of our tearful reunion still remained, it was quickly being overtaken by a sense of awakened, carnal lust, explicit and without softness, a desire to fuck, to be taken, to be possessed, and to pound our bodies together so passionately that they might never become detached again.

  He peeled out of his clothes, all the way down to his tight, little underwear, which bulged and teas
ed around the immense, thickened hard-on, the log of its shaft and the tulip-shaped tip blazing evidently at me through the fabric, and causing me to drip with want for his glorious treasures inside my trembling body.

  And soon, his hands were creeping onto me as well, peeling me out of my clothes, sliding off one article after the other, each grazing of his touch far sweeter and more potent than the last.

  Before I knew it, I was down to my lingerie, and the palms of his hands came sliding along my taut stomach, slipping beneath the fabric of my panties, and the fingers clenching down hard, grabbing handfuls of the flesh of my thighs, so that I found myself shaking from head to toe.

  His fingers slid toward the center then, creeping toward the treasure in between my thighs. I braced myself, preparing for him to touch down and to destroy me with his glorious love, but he stopped short, crippling me, and instead brought his palms back up to the lacy, black fabric of my panties.

  He stripped me completely naked, washing away the fabric of my underwear and then sliding me out of my bra as well, taking a considerable moment to cherish my tits as he held them in his hands, suckling reverently on them, and his tongue rolling around the nipples in such a way that I thought I might pass out with the pleasure of sensation.

  With a last stroke of fabric, he shed his own underwear, and I gazed, stunned at the thick, swinging pendulum of his erection.

  He took me by the hand into the shower, and I loved watching this muscular body get wet and slippery before my eyes. Droplets trickled through the crevices in his pectoral muscles, dribbling through the agonizing rungs of his six-pack abdominals, slicing through the deeply entrenched v-lines of his Adonis muscles. God, how I wanted him.

  And as though reading my mind, he pulled me into himself once more, kissing me passionately, and our two hearts beating almost in unison as we consumed and ravished one another's drenched, naked bodies. Down below, his cock was pressed firmly up against my stomach, and he began to grind himself up against me as we made out like newlyweds.