Three More Fantasies of an Erotic Nature
Thursday, March 09, 2006
SEXUAL FANTASY NUMBER 4
Farmer and the Belle
(for Ashley)
The location is a farm. Kind of a small farm because there is only one farmer and his main crop is HAY. If hay even is a crop–but in this fantasy it IS. So anyway this well-tanned, tightly-muscled, late-20’s-early-30’s FARMER enters his barn. Tired. And a little ANGRY because his hay isn’t quite as golden as it should be. Oh and he’s SWEATY. But it’s not a gross-wet-SHIRT-stained kind of sweaty and this is mostly because his SHIRT is OFF. So his chest is gleaming, you know–heck you could even say it’s TWINKLING because his chest is so beautiful and shiny it’s totally reminiscent of a romantic star-bright kind of night and I just have to take this opportunity to say, this guy epitomizes ROMANCE. He even epitomizes romance with that full-length-pointy-sharp PITCHFORK poised so nonchalantly in his hand.
So anyway, he’s come into his barn because he needs to toss a little more hay from the barn-loft to some other barn-area and that’s when he sees this young woman dressed in a old-fashioned debutante gown laying right in the middle of his primary haystack. She’s obviously slept there. Her hair is mussed and her hoop-skirt has somehow worked it’s way up around her waist so that her whole bottom half is just, exposed. And the farmer (while a good man) doesn’t believe in freeloaders and it’s his duty to tell this woman to GO but THIS belle’s bottom is FIRM, and totally un-panty-covered and the farmer is SO enticed by her that he can’t help but walk over and give her BARE ASS a little PITCHFORK-POKE.
And as you can imagine, the belle is roused by this ass-pricking and she makes a few sleepy moan-protestations before batting her eyes, rolling over, and seeing her handsome awakener. She pauses for a moment, assessing the situation.
“I DO HOPE you’ll be a gentleman about this,” she tells him, propping herself up so that she’s on her hands and knees. She wiggles her peach-like-rounded ass and looks back at him over her delicate shoulder, “I like to be fucked slowly,” she tells him. “And often…more than once.”
“Do you mind if I fuck you while holding my pitchfork?” he replies, in this really sweet (cause-I-don’t-have-to-if-it-makes-you-uncomfortable) kind of way.
“Of course not! And YOU won’t mind, if I call you Old McDonald? Or if I you know, MOAN in a barnyard ANIMAL sort of fashion?”
“No-no-no indeed!” replies the farmer and they’re off, him holding his pitchfork like some kind of trident-possessing Poseidon God, and her moaning delight-ed-ly, in a variety of 5 (rather skillfully vocalized) farm-animal SQUEALS!
SEXUAL FANTASY NUMBER 5
The Maid in the Mansion
(this one is for Amanda)
This maid is damned hot. Think Clue. Think a too-tight little black and white lace uniform with a tantalizing line of tit-cleavage that makes you want to shove your hand down her top and squeeze her perky little nipples until she comes from your breast-to-hand contact alone. Think a maid that is ALWAYS horny, but one who’s not proud of the fact. I mean she wants to be CHASTE, she wants to be GOOD, she’s tried EVERYTHING. Therapy. She even attempted Christianity and you know, NIGHTLY prayers, but nothing’s worked.
There’s only one alternative: isolation. Separation. So she takes this job working in a big LONELY high-on-a-hill mansion where the master NEVER comes home, except for there’s this one night when he DOES.
It’s kind of scary for the maid actually because she’s only used to HER high-heeled clacking footsteps on the authentic Grecian marble foyer, so when she turns around and sees this shadowy male figure lounging in the mansion’s doorway-silhouette, she stumbles (into this armored knight statue) and RUNS her black fishnets all the way up past her creamy (well-structured) cock-loving thighs.
“Would you bring me a brandy, my dear?” he requests. And his voice is older than she thought. This guy has got to be like 60’s, 70’s.
“The library. That’s where I prefer to take it.”
The maid enters the library carrying a solid gold brandy tray and all before this she’s been doing these GOOD-GIRL affirmations–firmly asserting that she will NOT break her vow of chastity, not NOW. Not this evening. Certainly NOT with this old-man-form of gray-haired-sexual TEMPTATION. She’s young. This time, she’s going to be STRONG.
She presents her master with his $1,000 bottle of brandy and he tells her to “Come closer,” and even though her bra-less breasts spring up at his request, she sets his brandy on the sidetable and makes to exist the room.
“Could you climb that,” he tells her pointing to this tall LIBRARY-LADDER that’s directly behind him. “There’s a book I need to examine on the very top-shelf.”
Now as the maid ascends the ladder (she tries not to) to but she’s THINKING about how her master (previously) cast his eyes DOWN her sHirt, and now (currently) he’s looking UP her SKIRT–I mean he’s eye-fucking her entire body and she’s doing her best not to encourage him but it’s hard. She’s wet. And he wants to fuck her and she wants to fuck him and then he’s speaking to her softly saying, “Come down here my dear, and lay your ass across my lap,” and AGAINST her will (it’s like this old-man-siren-call-compulsion) the maid DOES. She HAS to. Seriously, this maid doesn’t have a choice, and pretty soon he’s slapping her butt and making it red, and she comes. She comes like 6 times. And this is BEFORE he exposes her maid-tits and tears off her maid-uniform and gives her the dirtiest most raucous sex of her life and I guess if there’s one thing the maid learns from the experience it’s this:
Just because men get old, that doesn’t mean they forget how to fuck.
SEXUAL FANTASY NUMBER 6
Snow White and the Vampire
(for my dearest “Nik”)
Snow White’s sitting by her cottage window gazing out and singing this sparrow song she’s learned from, well a sparrow, and she’s musing about her life and love and mostly she is thinking about what it would BE like to fuck a guy who’s you know, as TALL as she is. Taller maybe even.
Because she’s never fucked anyone but the dwarves and that’s hard because even when they stand on one-another’s shoulders (one to kiss her, one to rub her tits, one to fuck her) it’s just so physically AKWARD, and besides too, she wants to experience a regular sized man’s cock. Not that she’s sure a regular sized man’s cock is going be any BETTER (she finds dwarf-cocks pleasing) but it would be DIFFERENT. And Snow White LIKES change, she SEEKS OUT experimentation–I mean she’s this adventuresome-SPIRITED-real-potential-SEXPOT.
It’s just–it’s TOUGH when the murderous intentions of your stepmother keep you locked away in a dwarf cottage and INTERFERE with the full-realization of your every sexual NEED.
So. Cut to this RAT-A-TAT-TAT at the dwarf-cottage door.
Now, Snow White’s on her guard, I mean, she’s been warned about the potential hazards of forest-traveling STRANGERS but when she opens up the little half-door and sees the back of this TALL cape-clad figure, the allure of his height OVERCOMES her. She invites this 6′2 supernatural-being in for a drink.
They don’t waste time talking. Among other reasons the vampire has ESP and knows exactly what Snow White is going to say. He sends her MIND-COMMANDS. He tells her, her dwarf-friends are dead. He presents seven small dwarf-hats (all properly labeled) and laments his monstrosity. “FORGIVE ME!” he mind-shouts. “They just, they came into my cave!”
And he seems so SAD, and Snow White is TOTALLY sad, and it’s not necessarily a marker of PRIDE but sadness has this way of making Snow White really HORNY.
And next thing you know she and the vampire are PASSIONATELY fucking, and he’s calling her, “MINA!” and she retaliates with “Happy!” (and then “Doc, Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey!) and it goes on like this. The two of them calling out for people that can never return. And it’s lonely. And it’s complicated. But too it’s MEANINGFUL because misappropriated name-calling adds a real… sexual DEPTH.
And when the Vampire comes inside Snow White, it’s like this real AWAKENING because Snow White HAS TO leave the forest now (how can she stay with all these dead-dwarf-reminders), I mean she’s got a LIFE TO LEAD, there are MEN TO EXPERIENCE. And it’s ironic isn’t it, that a vampire (bringer of death and darkness) could be such a LIGHT for Snow White. A real fuck-awakening kind of savior.
© 2005 Milly Sanders All Rights