#515) Was It All a Dream?

He knew that she had a lovely bottom. He never knew how lovely because she always wore loose-fitting skirts or dresses. Then one day she wore the yoga pants. And he had to see it, to touch it, to let it change his life…

So he came up with the flimsiest of excuses to get her to assume the position and…

She smiled knowingly, but went along with it as if she’d just behaved like the rudest girl in town and…

When he pulled her pants down it was like he was a prisoner who hadn’t seen the light of day in decades, and suddenly he’s freed and sees the sunrise and remembers how beautiful life can be…

“You have the most exquisite bottom!” he intimated in her ear, afraid that if he raised his voice the entire experience would disappear with a pop, like an ephemeral bubble he’d blown as a child.

“Thank you,” she smiled in return and wiggled her hind quarters just because she knew it’d drive him mad.

“I have to touch it… May I?”

“Yes…”

And he did, and it didn’t disappear with a pop, but it was a veritable bubble. “I have to spank it…!”

“I know,” she said with resignation. “Most men say that, as soon as they know it shares space with them on this earth… You may…”

And he did. And it aroused him mightily. “God, you make me hot!”

But instead of whimpering, or anything like that, she returned in a voice made husky with desire, “I know! Me, too!” And she shot him a look over her shoulder that said she was just as needy as he was, so…

In a flash, he had his manhood out, and was laying it along the deep divide between her heavenly cheeks. He didn’t dare defile her by trying to put it up her bottom’s orifice, just as he didn’t dare spank too hard. He didn’t want to be remembered as the one who besmirched perfection. Her buttocks were like clouds of cotton candy made flesh, real and yet unreal. He recalled taking a bite of this confection long ago, as a child, and having the stuff evaporate on his tongue, leaving only sweetness behind. He knew if he kissed her butt or bit it or licked it, that it would react the same way…

So he just laid his cock between her hillocks and gently pressed them together from each side, and rogered her slowly and sensually, delicately but deliberately. It was all too much; he climaxed with a rush of sensations and emotions. Jets of spunk spurted forth, covering her sacral dimples, coating her back, even lacing streamers of the stuff in her flaming red hair.

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!” he stammered.

“It happens all the time,” she said with a giggle, pleased with her power over him, over all men.

6 responses to “#515) Was It All a Dream?”

  1. Loose fitting skirts or dresses… how they hide such delicious treasure! They make us guess what lies beneath them. Oh, how they frustrate as we walk behind or simply pass by!
    Sophie x

    Liked by 1 person

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