Outside Narration - I like truthful answers

This was dictated on my phone, transcribed by poorly programmed voice recognition software, then very lightly edited, just enough, I hope, to get across the story. And yes, I finished when the story did. 

Phone rings

We need to take about the tickets

what are you doing right now?

uh do you want the truthful answer or the politically correct answer

give me the truthful answer

well I'm laying on a blanket in my backyard naked thinking about masturbating

holy shit don't say that,

well you said you wanted the honest answer

ohh not that honest

OK, so you want the politically correct answer?

yeah let's back up and try this again. hi what are you doing?  We need to talk about the tickets

Well you can come over. I am currently in the backyard thinking about some of my friends and hoping that they are satisfied with their daily life

Now, that is a bullshit answer

Well it’s the the politically correct version and that means it's usually bullshit

That's not what I meant

What you meant was that you really wanted to know what I was doing but you didn’t want to admit that you wanted to know exactly, what I was doing.

Don't put it that way

Admit it, you're still curious you had your chance and now you think you blew it



Well, did I?

I'm not sure yet, all I know, is that right now I’m alone in the backyard, no one can see me, no one knows how I'm doing. I have a tube of lube and a vibrator next to me.

That's what I mean! You can't say that stuff anymore.

Why not? You used to like hearing it all the time.

I know, but I thought we were being good.

OH, fuck bein good. That didn't get me anywhere now did it?

That's not my fault. I just I just couldn't go through with it.

That's fine, just don't tell me you didn't want to

that's not fair, you know I wanted to, you know I really wanted to do it, but.

But what? Tony banging your best friend when we were on the phone so I don't think it mattered too much. She's not my best friend anymore.

Good, neither is he. Just tell me the last time you thought about me

Please don't make me tell you that

why not? that recently?

you know what it does to me when we start talking, you know how I get wet.

I know

stop it

I think you're getting wet right

stop it or I'll hang up

ohh you could have hung up minutes ago when I called you,  you like texting because it doesn't go anywhere but once you hear my voice you know I'm gonna ask you questions

Then stop asking me questions

I like hearing you answer them

Come on, that’s just not fair. You know what you do to me.

I know what I want do to you

See it’s stuff like.  We’re not supposed to talk about that stuff with each other

Why not?

well I'm your boss

you're not my boss

I paid for your last project

Correction, you reimbursed me for my last project, all my labor was free along with my expertise a couple of gallons of paint and several dozen brushes if II remember

OK fine, that might be true, but what about next day? what about when we see each other next?

What's the problem?

You'll know things about me

 like what?

 ohh come off it.  you know. You ask questions and I tell you answers and you know I can't lie to you.

There's no value in lying in this situation I'm not building a fantasy, I’m building a record

that's what I mean. You ask me these questions and I have to tell you the truth otherwise it doesn't work, does it?

you're right, it only works when you answer truthfully. I can tell a fantasy answer when I hear it, just like a fake orgasm or porn. it's beautiful, but it's a lie so it doesn't mean as much.  why do you think you like telling me the truth?

I don't know, maybe because no one else asks me those kinds of questions.

Well? Should we start with some answers right now?

What?

You know what my first three questions are. They are always the same and I expect you to answer them 100% honestly.

Seriously? I have to go to rehearsal in like 2 hours

That’s not the point

Yeah, it is, because when you get to rehearsal I want you to know that tingling you feel is because of me

it's always because of you

Then let's get started/  give me the basic 3 now

fuck you

not yet, answers please

OK let me think

you shouldn't have to think that hard but you know the rule, not lookoing

it's just that sometimes they're just not that exciting

if they're on you, then they're absolutely thrilling

OK, pale blue, high cut, probably Fruit of the Loom and a little bit worn out

good girl

You can’t call me that for just answering the simplest of questions

I can because that's what you are

what do you mean?

you are my good girl. you answer my questions, you tell me the truth, you let me inside and that makes all the difference

Inside? What do you mean? We've never, you know, never done you know that.

That's the least important place I need to be right now

what do you mean?

you'll let me in there when you're ready to let me in there. Where I wanna be is inside deep inside your head. I want to be inside your panties when I'm 100 miles away. I want to be in the shower with you while I'm sitting next to my family at dinner, and I want to be in your bed when you bring somebody home from the theater

Fuck you

That's why you're my good girl

Thank you Sir. Do you have another question for me?

Yes. When was your last orgasm?

What it's none of your business

tell me tell me now

OK, today's Friday, so it was Tuesday. I just got back from a run. I was so tired.

how far did you go?

6 miles. I did the big loop around the train station, it's flat and it's fast

 kind of like you

cut that out,

You know I think you're beautiful I'm just teasing you

you know I wish my boobs were bigger,

no you don't. they're perfect just the way they are, just the way you are.

what do you mean by that?

They are small, sensitive, and they fit inside my mouth and I can suck on them so hard

May I touch them Sir? Please?

Be specific

May I touch my breasts Sir?

Yes, you may, but only over your shirt

What?

Just for now. imagine we're in the movie theater. I can't get you naked yet, but I can touch you, feel your nipples getting hard

ohh Sir, they are so hard right now

pinch one, the left and then the right

Please Sir

I time my touch with the action on the screen so you can yell out as the cars explode and the men fight for some stupid reason.We picked this one because the reviewers said it was unnecessarily loud for an hour and a half and that's what I want you to be, loud

may I?

May I what? 

may I take my shirt off please

yes you may tell me how it feels

it’s light blue T-shirt that's one of my oldest it's and it's soft and I like how it feels against my skin

you may take it off if you tell me what happened next after your run

yes Sir I had the house to myself so I stripped down as soon as I walked inside the front door. my shoes first then my socks. my T-shirt came off and then my running bra. I'm still not sure why I wear one, but I like it.

Chafing is a bitch.

come on Sir, you know I don't like that word

I'm sorry my sweet, Chaing is unpleasant.

I took off my shirt and my bra I saw myself in the hallway mirror

 go on

The one my grandma likes so much that she bought it at the flea market last year after grandpa died

Yes, I know that mirror. What did you see?

I saw my red hair, the small curves of my breasts. I saw sweat running down between and I've watched myself touch my nipples.

And? And what? Tell me

it made me wet, so I reached down and I pulled my pants down and my panties along with it until I was bare. I stepped out of my running tights I stood naked in front of the mirror

yes continue

Sir? may I ?

What?

May I touch myself?

Be specific

May I put my hands down my pants and touch my clit?

Yes, you may, but you cannot stop talking

thank you Sir. it feels good

What feels good?

I like touching myself when I talk to you

tell me more. what did you see in the mirror?

 well I had just shaved that morning I was still a little red but my skin was bare I could see my lips, so I used my fingers and I spread myself open and then put one finger deep inside myself and that's all it took to cum. Sir, just thinking of you and one finger was all it took

You came from me in the hallway?

Yes, just you, a long run, and one finger, Sir.

Good girl, very good girl.

A few suggestions for porn directors

I WOULD LOVE YOUR FEEDBACK/COMMENTS!!  - Please leave one at the bottom!!

 OK, let's face it, if you are reading this, you like the sexy side of Blogger and you most likely watch porn.

A lot

Maybe not, but the # of people here are not looking for literary gold, deep stories, or the next War and Peace.

You are here to be entertained, to get off, to think about how you really want your sec life to be.

You come here to fantasize, and that's what porn is.

No one things that porn is a documentary, though, to be honest, most porn has a weaker storyline than an industrial training film, and it is very documentary focused, it films something happening with little commentary or context, and that's the problem.

Take THIS clip for example. It's a perfectly acceptable clip.  The women are beautiful, they put a little effort into the setting and scenario, and orgasms are enjoyed by all, several times, if they are being honest, but that's not the problem. They don't talk at all.

I understand there is a time limit, apparently most men in America cum in 11 minutes, that's about the average clip length.  Maybe that's how we have at lunch, maybe that's how long our kids are entertained in the other room, or maybe our wives get suspicious when the door is closed for over 12 minutes at a time. I don't know, but I'm sure there is more research behind the length of a free clip than there was research behind 6-foot distancing and make-believe paper masks.

But, I digress, my complaint isn't about clip length, I can cum in 2, 11, 20 or 30 minutes, that's not it.

I want dialogue.

I want to hear them. Porn directors need to realize that they can take their work from good (everyone cums) to great, just be having the actors talk to each other.

It is insanely sexy to hear them talk about the sex they are having, about what they want, about what feels good.

The audio is almost as important as the video.  Not the screaming "Fuck me! Fuck me!" part, that's over the top and cliche, but it's the expressed desires that make it real. Let me feel like I'm invited into an erotic moment, not watching circus performers.

I want you to kiss me

Suck on my nipples

Put a finger inside me

Will you make me cum?

Can I cum for you?

Get on top of me.

Can I put your cock in my mouth?

I love the way you kiss me

I like how you play with my nipples.

Find me clit, latch on, and don't stop until I cum. 

I like the way you feel inside me.

Can you add another finger?

Use your tongue on the tip, swirl it around.

Can I cum in your mouth?

Can we change positions?  I don't want to cum too fast. 

 Maybe this is asking for too much, I don't expect great acting, but, what if the director sat down with the actors and said, "We want to hear your voice.  If something feels good, say it.  If you want something, ask for it, if you need your partner to do something, tell them. And if something isn't working, stay in the moment, redirect, and find something that works."

Consent is also incredibly sexy, and it doesn't have to be formalized and boring.

 Anti-consent people portray consent as to people in business attire shaking hands and saying things like, "I would like to put my penis in your vagina and thrust for 90 seconds until orgasm, do you agree?"

That's not what I'm talking about.

I want to hear the give and take, the back and forth, the occasional negotiation. It's not complicated, it's just missing so often.  And I don't expect porn to act as a role model for teenagers, but kids learn from porn, and it is mostly bad habits. Consent can get asked for and given in the heat of the moment.

I really want to suck your cock, I'd like that

Can I go deeper? Yes, it feels good

Will you bite my nipples, I like it a little rough, Tell me if it's too much

I want to fuck you while your partner watches. She's up for that, that's why we called you.

Come up on the bed with me, I want to see you naked.  I've wanted this for a long time.

Put your finger in my ass, I like it. Can I lick it too?  

I want you to fuck me. Really?  YES, Where? Everywhere.

Where do you want me to cum?  Inside, deep, hard.

Is this asking too much? What do you think?

I like story 

This clip is a perfect example of a lost opportunity.  First, what's up with the handshake at 2:45, is that the way women really shake hands?  But, that's not the point.

This starts off great, we have a story, a conflict where the blonde (Anna) is jealous of her girlfriend (Vanna) spending too much time with a new "friend", Alexis. So far, so good.  We establish an ongoing poly relationship between Anna and Vanna, there is tension over Alexis, and Vanna still goes off without Anna. Then Vanna brings Alexis home, trying to make peace and spark an apology 3-way.  

They sit together, they flirt, they try to play nice.  Sitting on the bed, Anna admits she might be open to the idea and Alexis playfully touches Anna's thigh.  Vanna suggests that they try something together. The tension is rising, sex is in the mix, they are together and touching.

Anna asks (key point - consent and desire) to watch Vanna and Alexis kiss. "Let me see you guys kiss first."

THIS IS SO SEXY!!! 

Vanna and Alexis kiss sensuously, Anna is watching and enjoys, it, and when the kiss ends, she says, "That wasn't too bad, I actually kind sof liked it."

Then Anna and Alexis kiss.  Alexis then asks Anna to kiss Vanna.  It is soooo sexy, so much tension and potential, and then, they make the cut that "ruins" it. After all this build up, this tension, relationship building, the very next second is Alexis tongue deep in Anna from behind.

ZERO transition, no escalation, no slow build,  

0 to 60 in one cut and BOOM, the tension, the story, the conflict is gone.

Why can't we enjoy the build-up, the touching, the undressing, hearing Vanna encourage and support Anna in getting undressed, Vanna asking permission to go down on Alexis, honoring the primary relationship with sexy consent questions. Stay with the story!!!

Anna, do you want to help me undress Alexis?

Vanna, will you kiss Alexis's nipple while I watch?

Can I take your panties off?

Alexis, will you kiss my girlfriend?  (This is powerful, put Anna in a position of importance, AND ask for sexual favors)

I want to eat you out.

Vanna, will you hold Alexis open for me?

Some of this sounds Dom/Sub-ish, but that's why power relationships are sexy, we ask permission, we gain consent, we say the sexy parts out loud. That same dynamic would make an average video sooooo much better.

That's my hope.

AND!!!  I found a new pet peeve.  With all of our technology, our expensive cameras, and beautiful women, why can't we hear people when they do talk.  I ran through some videos the other day (OK, yesterday, sue me) and even when they did talk, you couldn't hear them!!  They were talking and laughing and doing all the things I like, but you couldn't hear them! Oh the moaning and groaning was at volume 11, but the quiet moments, the little asides, the requests were all just a Bidenesque mumbles.  So frustrating. (Perfect example, you can barely hear Lily in this clip.  Here's another  example - wonderful seduction for 3:30, then straight into strap-on dildo play!  Give me some transition, please. Keep the seduction going.)  Another horrible example of a sound editing failure. The whole video is about them talking, but you can barely hear anything.

AND, I'm not all complaints today.  I LOVE this clip (hate the title).  This is the slow burn wonderful clip that I like. It's tender, and slow, and feels like it might actually happen.  and WOW, is ELLY CLUTCH hot or what?

That's it, that's my rant.  I'm going to cum now.  :-)

Red 2

 She's coming over today, in 25 minutes.  I took three pills, just in case, the max daily dose.

Maybe nothing will happen, maybe something will, who knows?

Am I ready to take that chance again?  A chance to get caught, to fall in love with the wrong person, to blow up a sub-par but stable marriage.  Probably not. but what if?  Right?  Isn't that always the question?

What if she comes over alone, maybe she told Ryan to stay home, that she doesn't need any help painting. Maybe, Chris shows up late, and maybe, just maybe, she's wearing her baggy linen shorts and my favorite tank top.  She's barely an A-cup, slim, tall, wildly perfect red hair, a tight little ass built on miles of running, and a smile that makes me lose a breath.

She gets here, 9:30, on the dot.  We have a lot of painting to do, but she asks for a tour of the house first.  My house isn't that big, there's only a little to tour, but I'm glad that I cleaned the bathroom before she came over.

In the master bedroom she kneels on the bed, resting against the headboard, looking out the back window. 

 Is she sticking her ass out on purpose?  She did, in fact, wear her paint-flecked linen shorts.  I stand next to her, next to the window; my heart is pounding, is this it?  

I put my hand on the bare skin between her tight tank-top and the waistband of her shorts.  She doesn’t move away.

“When we moved in over Christmas, 1998, the whole back yard was a jungle,” I said, my hand drawing circles on her bare skin, “the house had been empty for almost a year.”

She closed her eyes as I touched her gently, “That’s the year after we moved here,” she said sleepily, “I was 6.”

“Seriously?” I said, hoping the laughter in my voice was genuine, “are you trying to make me feel old?” 

I playfully swatted her on the back of her head, but then let my hand rest on the back of her neck, playing with her hair for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she said, contrite, “It’s just, that was a big year for our family. I didn’t mean to make you feel old.”

“It’s OK, I am old.  Older” I said, trying to emphasize the -er.

My hand leaves her hair and slides down along her back, but I don’t stop this time.  Crossing over the waistband of her shorts, I lose contact, until I find her soft skin again.

My fingertips find the back of her left thigh and I drift my fingers up and down her pale skin. She sighs, just a bit, and puts her head down on her folded arms.  Her body shifts in unmistakable need.

"Please" she whispers.

"Please what?" I reply softly, trying to calm my voice over the beating of my heart.

"Touch me."

My hand is shaking.  Up and down the soft skin.  Down to the back of her knee, up to the edge of her shorts. Any higher and it’s not flirting any more. Any higher and everything changes, it’s not teasing, it’s seduction, it’s sex. It’s real.

She sighs quietly as my fingertips move across her skin.  Can she feel my heart pounding?  Can she see how nervous I am?

My thumb crosses the line first, up under the fabric, She takes in a sharp breath.  I stop.

“It’s OK”, she whispers.

I can feel the soft linen lift as my thumb pushes higher, exposing the back of her upper thigh, my fingers feeling the curve of her ass from on tops of the fabric.

“MMMMmmmmm” she encourages me, but I can barely breath.

My hand curves around her bottom, my fingertips dangerously close to the center line, I can feel her body in my hand, and she pushes back, every so slightly against my palm, and I squeeze. She giggles.

My hand moves higher, pulling the fabric of her shorts deep between her cheeks.  Her skin is exposed, but I want to see more.  I slide my hand back down her thighs, letting her shorts fall back into place.

She whimpers, but only for a moment, as I use both hands now to pull upward on her shorts, pulling the fabric deep between her cheeks, exposing her pale white skin. She giggles again until I pull harder, tightening the fabric against her crotch, a linen wedgie, lifting her hips, bringing her knees off my wife’s favorite comforter before releasing and letting her drop again.

Her laughter is intoxicating and encouraging. I pull upward again, bouncing her once on my bed, she grabs the headboard for balance.  But the next time is not for giggles, I pull the fabric tight, lift, and suspend her in the air, her body pressing hard against the fabric between her legs.

She is suspended, just off the bed, she could easily extend her legs and take the wait in her feet, but she does not.  She hangs in my hand, the fabric pressing deep in to her middle, the fabric compressing her lips, her clit, and she slowly spread her legs for me, allowing the fabric to do its job.

I slowly let her down.  She is out of breath.  I stroke her hair and the back of her neck.

“Good Girl,” I whisper.  “Did you like that?”

She nods her head up in down in affirmation. 

“Say it.”

“Yes,” she takes a breath, “I liked it.”

“Head down,” I say and she complies, resting her forehead on her arms again.

I reach over her back with my right hand and, using both hands at the same time, pull her baggy linen shorts off her hips and to the bed, where they pool around her knees.

She quivers as I trail my finger up the back of her right thigh, across her hips, and back down again.

Her panties are buried between her soft pink lips.  Her pale skin frames them perfectly and I whisper that she is beautiful. 

“Thank you, Sir.” She responds.

I correct her.

“I’m am not Sir,” my hand caresses the bare curves of her ass as I inch closer and closer to the center. “Today I am Peter, Your friend.” Titles will come later, I tell myself.  She is ready.

My fingertips reach between her thighs and trace her exposed labia from front to back.

She gasps.

I have touched her. There is no going back.

I do it again, gently reaching between her thighs, I seek, not for her clit, but for the wet fabric of her panties and the soft folds of flesh that covers the silk.  This time I use three fingers, stroking her lips, tracing the damp silk, touching her with purpose and permission.

She gasps a bit and giggles, and begins to rise up, but I gently press her back down until she rests her head again.

“I like this part,” I confess, “touching, teasing, exploring.”  My right hand reaches between her exposed this and I spread my fingers, instructing her to spread her legs for me.

“I love feeling you get wet.  I love feeling you quiver.”  I say this very matter of factly.  I’m no longer nervous, I am calm and confident and know that I am doing exactly what she wants done.

“I’m going to pull your panties down.” I put my left hand between her shoulder blade and hold her in position.  My right hand goes under the waistband and pulls away from her skin, avoiding any touch as the panties pull out from between her swollen lips. I push the fabric to the bed.

“Lift” I say, and she lifts her right knee.  I pull her panties and shorts down her leg.

I reach between and tap her left knee.

“Lift”

She repeats the motion and her panties and shorts lay in a pile at the end of my bed.

I resist the urge to bring them to my face, my nose, my tongue.

“I’m going to touch you now.” She nods her head.

This time I don’t ask for a verbal, that will be a part of her later training.  Today is about touching, cumming, and bonding, and it is all going according to plan.

My left-hand slides from between her should blades and to her chest.  Her breasts are wonderfully small with nipples that show through the perfect amount. I feel her nipples through the fabric and receive a grunt of pleasure as a reward.  My hand moves upward and wraps around her throat for a moment, and then slides under the ribbed cotton weave of her tank top, and I feel her breast in my hand for the first time.

This almost make me cum.  I have dreamed of this moment for months.  Through hours and hours of rehearsal, edits, re-writes, table reads, and painting. I watched her come in every day at rehearsal. Tight yoga pants, barely there tank top, perfect makeup and a smile.

She is a hugger and greeted everyone as if they were long lost friends. I gladly accepted her greeting each time but, I longed for more, I longed to wrap my arms around her slim waist and hold on until she could feel my cock grooming between us.

I wanted to hold on to her until she chose to kneel before me, unzip my pants, and take my hard shaft into her mouth. I thought of her constantly, at work, in church, while I was deep inside my wife, when I had quiet moments in the backyard.

It took a while, but we became friends, more than friends, and the tension between us grew but I took my time. I waited.

I confirmed her feelings subtly, I volunteered to drop things off at her office, her storage unit, so we could meet without the gazing eyes of the rest of the cast and crew. Her hugs got longer, instead of me extending them, she would hold on as long as I would let her.

Several weeks went by, the production came and went and was a great success. She is a rising star, and their local theater scene has noticed. I would not have much longer with her. She would be discovered, made famous, and move on.

My opportunity came when we had to work on a new set, I needed help with painting, she invited some of her friends but they did not arrive. So, I gave her a tour of the house.  And now, here we were, I stood next to her, next to my marital bed, and stroked the soft perfect lips of her pussy. She didn't like it to be called that.  I overheard her talking and she said she hated that word, so I didn't say it out loud.

My hand played with her hard nipples. My right hand slipped between her legs and they cupper her soft lips on purpose. No more teasing, no more playing coy. My fingers stroked up and down and found her clit and circled it roughly and she almost collapsed to the bed. My hand held up her chest and I brought her back up to her knees. Finally, I penetrated, and she came. She came on my fingers, clenching come holding on, unable to let go.

After a few minutes, she caught her breath, gained control of her voice, and stopped mewling like a frightened kitten.  Her head dropped between her arms and I let her settle into the pillows my wife bought to go with the new curtains.

I placed my hands on her hip, holding her down, pressing her into the soft, warm bed, allowing her to breath, think, gather, recover, and collect.

I don’t know how long we stayed there, silent, perhaps a bit stunned as to what had just happened. I waited, quietly, until I felt her shift under my hands.

She rolled on to her back, demurely keeping her knees together, until her face came in to view.

She reached up and took my face in her hands.

“Thank you.” She said, and we shared our first kiss.

“Are you OK?” I asked as I move a lock of red hair off her forehead.


“I’m more thank OK,” she responded.  I felt her body shift again and I felt her legs open wide. “In fact, I’m ready for more.”

My Red

 She's coming over today, in 25 minutes.  I took three pills, just in case, the max daily dose.

Maybe nothing will happen, maybe something will, who knows?

Am I ready to take that chance again?  A chance to get caught, to fall in love with the wrong person, to blow up a sub-par but stable marriage.  Probably not. but what if?  Right?  Isn't that always the question?

What if she comes over alone, maybe she told Ryan to stay home, that she doesn't need any help painting. Maybe Chris shows up late, and maybe, just maybe, she's wearing her baggy linen shorts and my favorite tank top.  She's an A-cup, slim, tall, wildly perfect red hair, a tight little ass built on miles of running, and a smile that makes me lose a breath.

She gets here, 9:30, on the dot.  We have a lot of painting to do, but she asks for a tour of the house first.  My house isn't that big, there's only a little to tour, but I'm glad that I cleaned the bathroom before she came over.

In the master bedroom she kneels on the bed, resting against the headboard, looking out the back window. 

 Is she sticking her ass out on purpose?  She did, in fact, wear her linen shorts.  I stand next to her, next to the window; my heart is pounding, is this it?  

My fingertips find the back of her left thigh and I drift my fingers up and down her pale skin. She sighs, just a bit, and puts her head down on her folded arms.  Her body shifts in unmistakable need.

"Please" she whispers.

"Please what?" I reply softly, trying to calm my voice over the beating of my heart.

"Touch me."

An assignment

 "I'm heading outside"

"It's windy - Don't let it hit your clothes"

"I'm going to be taking them off."

"Too bad I have the kids today."

"Yep, too bad."

"What else you gunna do?"

"Watch and see."

"Maybe 😊"

"2 min"

She was right, it was windy, but warm.  The gods haven't decided if it's still spring or summer, so we get a confusing bit of both.

I stepped outside, leaving the door open so I could hear my work phone ring, just in case.

Hanah looked great our our phone call today.  I stayed silent, of course, no need for an HR call this early in the assignment.

The breeze was light, brushing to tops of my trees, making my neighbor's sycamore's sway gently, until a gust swirled around the backyard, ruffling my roses and flapping the tarp covering my weight set.

It felt good to pull of my casual Friday golf shirt and toss it on the lounge chairs, but she was right, it was windy enough that I wanted to avoid the splash, so I kicked off my sandals and pulled down my pants.

The wind felt good and I faced the sun, spread my stance,  and took a deep breath, and let it flow.

It's not a fetish, just a nice feeling, to be naked and outside, warmed by the sun and washed by the wind.  It was a good flow, one to brag about to my urologist, and one that would have been good to share.

I laughed to myself, shook it twice, and reached over to the grass for my pants.

"What's the rush?"  I heard her voice and looked up.  She was standing in the back corner of her yard, under the pepper tree where the fence followed the curve of the hill, and, if you stood next to the fence, we could see into each other's backyard. 

Facing her, I walked a few feet toward her.

"I thought you had the kids."

"Oh," she smiled, "I do, right now they think I'm looking for toys in the backyard."

"What are you really doing?" I turned to face her so she could see me fully.

"I'm looking for a toy I can play with." 

"To bad you have kids and I have work."

I tried not to think about it, but I could feel my blood flowing and my cock getting harder. It stretched and yawned and began to grow.

She laughed, "So, you are glad to see me."

I stopped fighting it and closed my eyes and soaked in the sun and felt it get bigger and bigger.  My hands played with my nipples and my fingertips drifted over my skin.  I could feel my heartbeat through my erection and it felt wonderful.  It felt even better knowing that she was watching.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"You," I said.

"And?"

"What you are going to do to your husband tonight."  I didn't touch myself at all, just let it grow and bounce in time with my heartbeat.

She cleared her throat and stuttered, "Uhmm, what,  I mean, I mean, " she could barely breath, "What do you mean?"

"I'm thinking about what you are going to do to your husband and what he's going to do to you, and it makes me hard."

"And what might that be?

I walked closer so I could whisper.

"After the kids are in bed, you are going to tell him to watch TV for 30 min, time it around Sports Center.  You will shower, shave, and get out your favorite toy and lube."

 She nodded and stared at my fully erect cock.

 "You are going to strip naked and get on your bed, and text him the word, 'Now' and you will wait on your hands and knees. Facing away from the door. Exposed."

I stroked my cock once and she groaned.

"When he comes in you will squeeze a dollop of lube on your fingers, rest your chest on the bed, reach between your legs, and begin masturbating."

"Can I touch myself now?" she asked quietly over my fence.

"No."

"You will continue to touch yourself until he enters you, from behind, and you are not allowed so say a single word, except, 'Please'."

She gave out a little yelp.

"He is to cum inside you.  After that you will lay on your back and ask him to eat you out, again, the only word you are allowed to say, is..." I paused and she filled in the rest.

"Please."

I stroked by cock and took a large drop of pre-cum from the tip and stepped over to her.

Without a word, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and took my gift.

I could see her swirl it around her mouth before she swallowed.

"Good Girl"

I turned and walked away without another word.