A Neighborly Message

“You can come over, have your way with me and my husband would never even notice.”

It was late 1999, and that message had just popped up on my screen. I was talking, and semi-flirting, with a neighbor on AOL chat at the time. She was a member of the group of neighborhood ladies that took it upon themselves to drag me out bar-hopping on a regular basis after my divorce. We had lived in the same complex for over 3 years, so, I had known her for quite a bit of time and was well aware of her penchant for being somewhat promiscuous. However, beyond the occasional, casual flirtation, there had never been anything truly “line-crossing” between us.

“You’re out of your mind,” I typed back, and waited for her response.

“No, I’m serious,” she replied back, almost instantly. “He doesn’t pay attention to what’s going on around him, and besides, he’s downstairs watching NASCAR. He’ll be out of touch for a long while. Trust me.”

“Look, I’ll come over and take a look at your computer like you asked, but, I think I will draw the line at that. OK?”

“Ok, fine,” she replied. “See you in a few minutes.”

It had started out innocent enough, and I had planned on sticking to my guns, but she made that extremely difficult for me. To begin with, she had conveniently not put on her bra and was wearing a t-shirt that was just tight enough to tickle her nipples until they stood out rock hard. As if that wasn’t bad enough, when she sat down across from me, her loose fitting shorts made it quite obvious that she had decided to forgo her panties as well.

So, that was how I ended up in her bedroom on that chilly afternoon, with her husband downstairs watching NASCAR, while she sat spread-legged on my lap with my hand up her shorts. I know that I should have felt bad about it, but I didn’t. Truth is, I never liked her husband that much anyway, and besides, I had a feeling he knew what his wife was up to in the room right above him anyway.

I didn’t hesitate in the slightest, or even think about taking it slow and easy. That wasn’t what she wanted, or needed, at the time. Instead, upon finding her already sopping wet, I just thrust three fingers deep into her in one go, stifling her moan with mouth at the same time. My fingers slipped between her folds with ease and slid all the way in to my knuckles.

Gripping her by her ponytail, I let her bury her face into my neck as I cradled her in my lap. She spread her legs even wider, allowing me even better access to that sweet spot between her legs. I could feel her wrapped around my long digits. Her wetness coating my fingers and palm as I thrust forcefully in and out of her depths, pausing every so often to allow my thumb to twiddle her clit and add to the sensation.

I’m not sure how long I held her that way, thrusting into her, and feeling her tremble in my arms. I just went with it while her hand busily explored my body, finally sliding into my jeans so that she could squeeze and stroke my engorged, thick shaft. Before long, her legs clamped together, holding me in place while her walls gripped my fingers. She bit down onto me, attempting to stifle her cries, as she rode the wave of pleasure that was obviously wracking her slender frame.

And…just like that, it was over… we straightened up, cleaned up a bit and made our way downstairs. A little later, I found my way back to my house and there was a message flashing on my screen…

“Thank you,” was all that it said.
~~~~
© AC Elliott, 23-Apr-18

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Essence #77

His eyes slightly glazed
in haze of lust and desire
losing himself in the moment
he surrenders to the fire
giving in to the needs
he’s tried so hard to hide
only to reach the point
that he’s boiling inside
and so, he loses himself
at that moment in time
in the raw, animalistic way
that can be so sublime.
~~~~
© AC Elliott, 20-Apr-18

Written using Free Verse poetry form.

An Eruption of Essence

Rays of sunshine pierce the window and fall on his bared flesh. The heat of the rays causes a tingling warmth to begin radiating throughout his body, and with a long stretch, he awakens slowly. Getting out of the bed is the last thing that he wants to do and all he wants to do is just stay there idly wishing the day away. Although he knows that isn’t a possibility, he will try to make it last as long as he can.

Slowly, but surely, the warmth of the sun continues to work its magic on his flesh and he can feel the warmth spreading even further. It is revitalizing and refreshing to him, even more so, the tingling sensation provides a much needed stimulation to his blood flow. Before long, he is fully awake, and feeling his flaccid manhood beginning to stir to life.

Once more, he closes his eyes. Only, this time, he isn’t closing them in order to go back to sleep. Instead, he’s closing them to allow images to flow through his mind, perhaps they will be memories of times past, or fantasies of things he hopes for. Whichever it will be, it only serves to increase the stimulation he is already feeling.

Reaching down with his right hand, he slowly traces the length of his cock with his index finger, feeling it quickly hardening. His once flaccid manhood, now erect. It is taut and hard, yet smooth and soft at the same time. Continuing along the shaft, he circles his bulbous crown, feeling the prominent ridge as he traces it slowly.

Sighing contentedly, he wraps his fingers around his thick shaft and grips himself firmly. Then, enjoying the sensation of physical stimuli coupled with the images that are flowing in his mind’s eye, he slowly begins stroking himself. Although taking it slow, he quickly finds the steady rhythm that is most pleasing to him, timing his strokes to the images he sees.

Before long, he can feel the pre-cum beginning to form on his tip, and swipes it with his thumb. He spreads it over his crown, tickling his already sensitive tip while the pre-cum continues to steadily flow. In his mind, it is a tongue that is circling his crown, it is someone else’s small, soft hand that is steadily pumping his shaft trying to coax out more and more.

He can feel his balls beginning to grow heavy with need, his shaft is now slick and covered with pre-cum. It won’t be long before he finds the release he needs so badly, and he moans at the images in his mind. Cupping his balls with his left hand, he massages them lightly, feeling them while increasing the speed of his strokes.

The once slow and steady pace no longer sufficient, his hand is now a blur on his shaft as he strokes himself furiously. The need to find that release is overwhelming! His manhood grows even thicker and harder, as it readies itself for the pending explosion. He can feel it coursing up his shaft, working through him, coursing through his veins.

A loud moan escapes his lips, while a torrent of fluid erupts from him like lava from a volcano. Large spurts of his milky, white essence rains down covering his abdomen and chest. Then, squeezing himself, he continues to milk out every bit and wipes it over his crown. The sensitivity of his tip has grown significantly, and his only regret, is that this moment wasn’t shared with someone else.

~~~~
© AC Elliott, 20-Apr-18

Essence #74

In his mind’s eye, he pictures her
fingers
nestled between her legs
traversing
soft folds, parting
accepting, welcoming
penetration

In his mind’s eye, he pictures her
fingers
becoming slick, dripping
with her sweet morning dew
and he longs for
just a little taste
~~~~
© AC Elliott, 16-Apr-18

Written using Free Verse poetry form.

The Road Through Hell (Part 1) ~Mature Story~

The sun was just beginning to set as I crested the hill, and as much as I would like to say it was the sight that took my breath away… it wasn’t. It was the hard gust of cold wind that managed to do that. Not that the sight wasn’t beautiful to behold, and I never grew tired of sunsets on an open range, but the air was crisp and biting cold. It was the kind of cold that seeped down deep into your body. The kind of cold that made your bones ache, and I was tired of it, but I could see salvation in the distance.

A small town lay nestled in the valley between the hills and after a week riding in the cold, I was past ready for a little taste of civilization. Of course, there’s something to be said about being on your own, especially when you didn’t care to mix in with the drama that comes with civilization. However, at this point, what I really desired was a hot bath, a fire that I didn’t have to build myself and the company of a member of the fairer sex.

Turning my horse in the direction of the town, I made my way down the hill slowly. As much as I wanted to get to that hot bath, my horse had been run enough over the last week. He was probably even worse off than I was, and was definitely in the need of some rest, preferably in a stable.

“That’s a good boy,” I said, patting him on the neck. “We’ll have you eating some oats and hay soon enough. Just a little bit further to go.”

I know it seems crazy, talking to a horse, but he was the only constant companion I have had for quite some time. In many ways, I think he understands me better than most people do. Then again, I never stayed in one place long enough to allow people to understand me either. I just never saw the point in it.

By the time I made it to the town, the sun had managed to set completely and I was thankful for the buildings that managed somewhat block the biting wind. I could barely make out the sign on the post as I rode into town, “Welcome to Hell’s Furnace,” I read aloud, and chuckled to myself. I just couldn’t shake the irony of riding into a place called Hell’s Furnace when it was so cold outside.

The smell of smoke coming from woodstoves was the first thing I noticed as I continued my slow stroll through the town. If it wasn’t for that, and the sound of music coming from somewhere in town, I would have sworn the place was deserted. There wasn’t a soul in sight to be seen.

That in itself wasn’t strange, given how cold it was outside, but I expected to at least see one person on the road. While I could see oil lamps burning through windows I passed, there was no one on the road, nor out on the porches in front of the buildings. Yet, I had the feeling of unseen eyes watching me from the darkness. I could feel their eyes on me, taking me in, and it caused the little hairs on the back of my neck to raise.

It was an eerie feeling, and I didn’t like eerie feelings.

~~~~
© AC Elliott, 12-Apr-18