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


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
nestled between her legs
soft folds, parting
accepting, welcoming

In his mind’s eye, he pictures her
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.

Sleep Beckons Me

Sleep beckons me
like a mistress crooking her finger
urging me to step closer
into her waiting embrace.
It is in that embrace
that I succumb to my darkness
letting it run rampant
like a sky void of all light
where not even a star
to light the way.

Sleep beckons me
like a mistress, waiting
to embrace me
and accept the darkness
© AC Elliott, 5-Dec-2017