The Developing Chronicles Of Our Affair Part 1
- 3 years ago
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The Developing Chronicles Of Our Affair - Part 2 free porn video
I’m feeling a little deprived. I’m deprived of my man who’s off adventuring again. While he amasses uncomfortable experiences in a godforsaken place, double-digit hours away from the nearest town that can closely be called civilisation, I am waiting, and this time, worrying. I don’t normally, but his current trip has been intense, and he’s faced multiple issues including safety issues with their plane.
When he stresses, his release valve is sex and sexual fantasies. As a photographer, he is very visual, which allows him to fantasise intensely realistically, so when he gets downtime, he’ll often spend it relaxing in his fantasies. This trip has been a combination of intense physical and emotional stress for him, but there have also been long periods of waiting in between. Guess where his mind has been in that time?
Even I have been amazed at how he can maintain his stream of intense fantasies surrounded by the difficulties he has been facing, separated from most amenities, and sometimes, literally, nervous for his life. Maybe that’s part of it, that facing your mortality drives you to experience and indulge it more.
From my perspective, the only good thing about this trip is that we have been able to maintain very good comms. As we talk, he tells me his fantasies, interwoven with some of our sexual memories and a couple of plans for what he thinks would be fun to add. They often involve all his senses, and he describes to me what I look like to him as he eats me out, how he loves the feel of my juices, their sweet taste, my glistening pussy as he spread my lips wide and looks at me. What I feel like as I come on his fingers, and how he loves the sounds I make as I get louder and louder, until I can’t cum anymore and I go limp under him.
I find inspiration in his fantasies, ways to pleasure him that I might not have thought of otherwise. This is one of our strengths, that distance forces us to keep verbalising our needs, fantasies and ideas.
We’ve been stretching our boundaries recently, and it’s added a dash of insecurity but also a whole new level of intensity. More about that later. Between him being in hyper-sex-drive, and me having had very little relief recently, I suddenly had a flash-urge fantasy. I don’t have them as regularly as he has his fantasies, and they’re not visual like his are, they’re more intense feelings wrapped around a scenario, realistic or not, that suddenly strikes me as amazingly hot.
So there’s Patrick sitting in a meeting where negotiations are delicate and critical, and I sext him my over-the-top fantasy.
“Me. Naked. You and three others – naked. One on each breast, licking, sucking, playing. One inside me, fucking me and one sucking and playing with my clit. Which one are you?”
Thankfully he was sitting in a darkish corner because his physical response was immediate. He got another fantasy sext a couple of minutes later.
“You and some male friends, camping on the beach. No clothes rule. I’m along – only if I agree to satisfy everyone whenever they want.”
He’s not slow, my Patrick. Meeting or no meeting, he joined the fantasy immediately …
“My love, you’ll be our slave, we’ll fuck you in the open, everyone watching …”
So our fantasies are a little naughty. They work for us. The more we express ourselves sexually, the more we trust each other with our fantasies and our feelings, the fewer boundaries we feel and the better our sex becomes.
I never used to orgasm during sex. I truly believed I was one of those people who can’t, but now I realise orgasming for me is a matter of freeing my mind to be in the moment, and now I cum often. Sometimes just little flutters, sometimes large wracking orgasms, sometimes inner shudders, and sometimes it’s an all-over body experience, flooding every part of me. I can’t control the type of the orgasm, and I don’t bother to, I just enjoy them all.
Patrick teases them out of me like a maestro, and each time sends him a little higher, gives him more pleasure. I feel the same rush when I see him lose himself in his orgasm. And somewhere in that, we entwined our pleasure with one another, which has resulted in new layers of complexity.
Patrick is away often, and sometimes for relatively long periods. When he is here, he isn’t geographically close, so we don’t see each other often. We started intertwining our fantasies with discussions about my sex drive, and how I often miss sex. To both our shock, the discussion ended with a plan for me to pursue a No Strings Attached option.
In hindsight, we arrived there through a strange series of misunderstandings, because much as we think we communicate in words, we actually communicate in emotions. I thought I was fulfilling Patrick’s fantasies and he thought he was catering to my needs when he couldn’t be here to fulfil them. That was all something we only discovered much later.
We discussed rules, and basically agreed that no-one was allowed to take Patrick’s time with me, so he comes first. It was to be a physical affair only, not an emotional one, and I must be prepared to discuss details with him, but only to the extent that I was comfortable with, not where I feel I’m demeaning the other person.
The sex had to be protected and I then need to allow him the same freedom should he find someone. We both know it would be harder for me to accept than it would be for him. regardless of whether I had already found someone else.
It seems that when you open yourself up to something, it’s there for you. It started with a meeting with a friend of mine who was interested and made it clear. I decided on the spur of the moment to accept the offer to pop by for a drink, knowing that he hoped that drink was a euphemism for sex. I texted Patrick on the way but must admit I was nervous of what the evening would bring and even more nervous of what Patrick’s reaction would be to my actions.
“On my way to Joe. Dripping wet.”
Again, my text reached him in a very awkward situation, but he loved it. He said it was an immediate inferno inside him, and he couldn’t wait for my next text. It was a while, then …
“Naked. Kissed my breasts.”
Then …
“Fuck! Sucked him!!!”
It was only the next day that we got to talk again. Patrick was still riding the wave, on a complete high from my experience, and what he hoped was intense satisfaction for me. I hadn’t enjoyed it though. Nothing felt right. I found the entire encounter awkward and was ready to move on from the idea of another man. I also felt guilty for bringing Patrick down when he’d been on such a high for me.
It sounds like a simple matter, but it was emotional for both of us, so it took us day to properly understand each other. He had to let go of his preconceptions about how he thought and hoped I’d feel, and I had to rebuild my confidence. There had been nothing in the experience that was negative, but as it sunk in, I realised it made me feel wrong, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.
I’d forced the pace on something that actually didn’t quite gel. I told him that the only thing that was even vaguely stimulating was when Joe playfully smacked my butt. I’ve never been one for that kind of thing, so it gave us a giggle.
It seems though that my figurative door was still open, because another acquaintance, David stepped through. This encounter was almost the exact opposite of what had happened with Joe. I knew we’d gel sexually. I hoped we’d gel a little bit emotionally because I’ve discovered I need the emotional connection for really good sex.
The initial stages of hooking up and light flirting did work quite easily between David and me on some levels, but it still didn’t follow a path that Patrick or I understood or predicted. The result was a lot of confusion for both of us that resulted in Patrick taking a dislike to David.
Patrick was trying really hard to please me and be okay with David for my sake, but he was struggling with it emotionally. We eventually realised that our imbalance was actually because I was struggling to get my balance in a relationship that, unlike what I’m used to, was not a love relationship. I’m used to intense relationships, and the NSA style isn’t natural for me. As I yo-yoed, so did Patrick.
I went on a date with David and it was fun, sexy, flirtatious and naughty. I felt like a teenager. When nothing went forward or moved in any direction after that, I didn’t understand it or know how to react and my ego took a little knock. It made Patrick angry. He was protective of me, and in a way jealous that someone had the freedom to see me and spend time with me like David had, and then wasn’t being particularly proactive in using it. This time it was me who had to remind him how NSA works. All these intense emotions, and David and I hadn’t even gotten to any heavy petting. We’d shared a few kisses and that was it.
Then Patrick and I got together again for the first time in months. It was wild! Somehow, as a result of all this intensity, working and talking through our emotions and probably with the spice of the fantasies we’d shared about it, our normally extraordinarily great sex went ballistic.
Patrick is an ardent nudist, and I don’t generally get to keep my clothes on very long when I see him. But this time I wasn’t two steps in the door, and he seemed to flow from kissing me, down over my breasts, and he was under me, sucking so greedily at my already dripping pussy that it blew me straight into the same atmosphere he was in. Another flow and I was over him, as greedy to pleasure him as he was me.
We’re always eager to share sixty-nine, but this was different. We literally felt like one person, like we were pleasuring each other and ourselves at the same time. We flowed again, onto the bed and he was inside me, in the hardest, most intense, most loving fuck. It was awesome. When he smacked me, in a game we’d agreed to play, it was new and hot and fun. I felt owned and all-powerful at the same time, liberated and stimulated. He smacked me a little more, not sore, but enough to stimulate some blood flow.
And that was a first for us both, an orgasm that was an all over body flush, a lingering, intense dousing in lava that just carried on and on. It was our initiation into more intense sex, bordering on rough, and it worked for us. It was a fuck of fictional fantasy proportions.
Latisha
- 03.02.2022
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