Purple Pt. 1

When she entered the line to check out I noticed her immediately. She was wearing a fitted dark purple shirt and tight black pencil skirt. She was exactly my type: thin, very feminine, small but full rounded breasts, dark wavy hair that was long and shiny with subtle tastefully done highlights the may very well have come from sunning herself on the beach this summer rather than a salon. I imagined her in a bikini with sand stuck to the sides of her thighs and the top of her breasts peeking above her bikini top moist with sweat and the salt from the ocean, and I blushed as I rang up the gentleman in line in front of her. I didn't make eye contact with him and continued to glance slyly at her out of the corner of my eye.

It took forever for the man's transaction to be finished which only heightened my anticipation. She must have felt my energy as she walked up because she was nervous and fidgety.
"I love your shirt. What a great color."
She looked up at me and blushed. I'm not super feminine as a thin woman with small breasts, but I have large hips, a small waist and a round butt. I saw her take all this in with a glance and she blushed while I slowly rang her order through my register. She fumbled with her money and then again with the change I handed her. I brushed my hand against hers and felt a current of electricity run through my fingertips to hers and back again. She glanced up clearly excited and horrified but nevertheless apparently aroused.

I spent the rest of the day wet and aching for the feeling of her tongue on my clit, her hands rubbing my body while I simultaneously lick and taste her wet salty fluids. Before she left my line I mentioned heading to a local cafe to a coworker when I got out of work at five hoping she would hear and go there to meet me. I desperately hoped that she felt it too.

As the day wore on and on my excitement didn't lessen, in fact, it only increased until it became an overflowing of passion like water behind a dam looking for a release, but my confidence in our mutual attraction had waned. By the time I got to the cafe, I did a quick scan and didn't see a single flash of purple anywhere around, so I seated myself in a cozy tucked away corner around a bit of a half wall. It was the only place in the cafe where a person could almost feel alone with themselves even in such a public place. There was an outlet, so I plugged in my laptop, turned on my iPod, and settled into my own thoughts. I thought about how it was all just as well. I had never been with a woman before and judging by her reaction to me she had never been a woman either.

Thinking about our inexperience made me start longing for her in a whole new way. I imagined us not in a public place taken by passion but in my bedroom with candles and wine gently caressing every curve of the others body discovering all the hidden places. I imagined her perfect round breasts and the crease at their base where I would kiss her just long enough to drive her wild. I wanted to reach under her dark tight purple shirt and unclasp her bra with one hand to free them to my searching touch. I had just touched my lips to her breasts in my fantasy when I became aware of eyes on me and movement in the periphery. A woman in a dark blazer and skirt stood up to take off her blazer. I saw a flash of purple and knew it was her but wanted to give myself a moment to clear the blush in my cheeks before finally looking up in her direction. But something in her had changed. Her eyes we no longer shy and and frightened. She was in control of herself and I wanted so badly for her to be in control of me as well.
"Hi. Mary." She said extending a hand in greeting.
"Like the virgin Mary?" I thought immediately turning the conversation to some sort of sexual reference would be in my favor.
"No, like Mary Magdalene."
"Well, then that begs the question," I let the silence linger while I took in the shape of her body again, "how was Jesus?"
"Let's just say I'm glad to be here with you."
Smooth. Perfectly smooth and sexy and where did she come from? My God! Smart, witty, beyond gorgeous and she wanted me. It was almost too much. I was already quite wet from a day of thinking about her but I felt a new wave of wetness drench my already moist pussy. Silence lingered a bit too long and her confidence slowly vanished as the seconds dragged by. So she was new at this too, I thought, the momentary confidence must have been a facade.

Once the silence passed and I found something to say to her, (so what do you like to read) we sat in the cafe for a few hours in our little nook and talked about literature, philosophy and love until closing time. We added each other as contacts in our cell phones and exchanged a European hug and cheek kiss as we said goodbye for the evening followed by an awkward moment of neither knowing what to do. That night I masturbated for so long, on the couch, in the shower, in bed, alone in my apartment wanting her but couldn't get the lingering scent of her perfume and pheromones out of my nostrils.

Fictional Erotica

So in trying to have some sort of sexual outlet I've begun delving into fictional erotica. Some is fantasy based on real life some is totally pulled out of my ass. Much like the anal masturbation one. I've never done it, don't know what it feels like, but I ask a lot of questions and that's where I ended up.

I've been working on a lesbian piece for weeks now and although it's based on fantasy I still can't seem to get it right.... What is wrong with me?! Why can't I write lesbian erotica as a straight woman who fantasizes about women? Help!

Charcoal Nude

In college sexual frustration was so much easier to deal with. You could just go out to any random party, get drunk, meet some guy, and then go home with him. Never speak to him again. When that fails or when I was feeling not just horny but emotionally confused or damaged I would sign up to model for an art class, get naked and sit, stand or lay still while art students drew or painted my naked body. It didn't turn me on having a whole class look at my naked body but it did clear my mind and put everything into perspective. Being turned on and wet would be too personal. It would be embarrassing.

After college when I would be in the same place and needed some time to think I tried the same only instead of modelling for a class I did one on one's with artists. It wasn't quite the same. Some were boyfriends some were strangers but it always felt awkward. I would try to make conversation about anything other than sex or nudity or any physical act of any kind.

"I don't know, man. I guess I just always thought of Thoreau as a big mooch. I mean he has some good aphorisms and all but for the most part he didn't really engage in civil disobedience so much as live in Emerson's backyard and walk the mere mile to town to get anything he needed. Walden was just a big pile of excrement in my book."

And after a few hours of that I would head home and reflect on how different it was to do a one on one rather than a class. There were some photographers too and that was even more awkward because it was over so soon I felt like I never found my element. Eventually I just gave up and took to dealing with my frustration the old fashioned way. Fucking the hell out of my partner. We never even made love once in the years we were together. I just turned him into any and all frustrations I had in life and then fucked those frustrations into submission. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the healthiest for my relationship which ended up, well, ending.

We were still living together for a while and I looked for a replacement roommate and a replacement apartment at the same time. Both seemed impossible to find. Then one night at work I ran into a regular and somehow the fact that I was moving came up and he and his roommate said that they were looking for a new roommate and was I interested? Was I? Two artists, both handsome men that I was not attracted to that I could live with, eat meals with and talk about beer and sex with. Sign me up.

One of the roommates was gone almost all of the time so it just left Hugo and I. He was French, played the guitar and was a dark and beautiful artist. Tortured really. His artwork was all over the apartment and while I was looking at his website one day I found that he does some stunning nudes. I got excited and realized that this may be my modeling salvation. He could very well save me from the insanity raging in my brain. I didn't feel the need to make useless conversation with him so we could just sit quietly and work. It would be perfect.

Over dinner the next day I asked him about his models, who he uses, when was his last model, etc and told him that I would be very interested if he ever needed one.
"Well, what are you doing now?" Hugo had this way of being suggestive without making any facial expressions, his eyes just twinkled at me.
"Well I was planning on drinking a beer and knitting, so I'm certainly game."
"Ok, I'll clean up here and you can set up in front of my easel upstairs."

I walked upstairs confidently but as I reached the top landing I felt a wave of unease. This seemed to be going quicker than I had time to process. Rather than stand around thinking I figured why not just jump right in. I stripped down to nothing and was positioned shyly in his studio by the time he made it upstairs.

"You're quick."
"So are you."
"You'd be surprised. Is that the position that you're comfortable in?"

It was and he proceeded to sit down with his charcoal and start sketching. I was positioned in a way that would hide my pussy from view and nearly all of my chest. He didn't seem to mind and worked effortlessly while I was left with my own thoughts. I started thinking about my sexual frustration and how I had gotten to where I was in the first place, nude and sitting in the bedroom studio of my roommate who I had sworn to have no intimate relations with. I was wondering if modelling would even help to take the edge off like it had in college when I glanced over at him. His eyes were still twinkling though his face was calm and collected. His sketching was getting audibly more ferocious and as I looked down at his pants where the bulge there seemed to have grown. I could see the outline of his stiffened cock. No way. He had never so much as checked my ass out that I had noticed and there he was hard and getting harder sketching me with all of my erotic parts shyly covered. I felt my pussy heat up and start to moisten. He dramatically flipped the page over and made eye contact with me.

"Would you mind changing your position a little bit for the next sketch?"

He asked in a way that implied that he would be just as happy if I stayed where I was if I felt uncomfortable and presumed nothing. He hadn't noticed my sudden arousal. Rather than reply to his question, I moved the hand covering my breast slowly down my stomach to my now quite wet pussy like I was going to cover it in an act of shyness. He was paying less attention now because he was readying his next piece and when he looked up again I had moved so that I could both touch myself without ruining the scene and give him a better view of my body. I parted my legs slightly as he looked up and gently moved my hand over my clit.

"Is this ok?"

He nodded his consent and his cock swelled even more through his ever tightening jeans. There was a small light by his easel pointed in my direction. I looked down and could see it's effect on my wet pussy. I was literally glistening. He moved his hand towards his pants and I rubbed a little harder thinking that he would soon be touching himself as well, but he just adjusted his cock to give it the room that it needed to grow and kept sketching effortlessly. When he looked back up at me and saw my even more advanced state of arousal his eyes dilated and he froze transfixed for a minute. Nothing in our previous interactions would have predicted the scene he was now witnessing. Even I had no idea this would happen. He sketched a moment more hurriedly and told me that if I would like to see the pictures I should come check them out. I stood up and took my hand off myself and slowly walked over. I walked around him and pressed my naked body against his back as I surveyed the sketch that was just born from my public masturbation. I expected to see my body in that provocative pose on display for him but what I saw shocked me. Just my hand and the parts it was touching. Nothing more.

He turned towards me and said, "you are very beautiful." I blushed again and he grabbed me by ass hard and pulled my closer to him. I thought he wanted to kiss me but instead he started touching every part of my exposed body feeling, licking, searching. For what? Whatever it was he found it in short order and started slowly sucking my clit. I started shaking and held his shoulders and grabbed his hair as I came in his mouth. We pulled apart immediately as I stood there shaking neither of us knowing what to do next.

He was still hard and his cock was throbbing hard in his pants. It wanted to be free, so I unbuttoned his pants and freed his magnificent cock. It wasn't huge and it wasn't small but it looked like a penis from a Greek sculpture. Perfect symmetry smooth skin. I was taken aback by it for a moment. He thrust his middle finger inside me with one hand and grabbed his cock with the other and touched us both while I just watched my pussy get covered in charcoal and while his face got hungrier and closer to climax. I pulled away again and grabbed his body to force him into standing. His body was even more perfect standing so I took off his shirt and kissed his lean torso while teasing his cock but not touching it directly or letting him touch himself.

We fell into his bed or I was pushed into bed it was hard to tell. The tortured art had to have been a reflection of his sexual frustration as the modeling was for mine because he thrusted into me like he wanted to touch every part of me from inside. The search for all my hidden places continued for what felt like hours. He picked me up and threw me on top. I brought myself to coming a dozen or so times using his body as a tool then he picked me up and threw me back down and entered me from behind. He grabbed my ass as he got closer and closer and then we came together, collapsed and fell asleep.

Hours later our roommate came home and walked in on that scene. He turned around as we woke up to see his horrified face and just laughed as he got hard again.

Therapy and Hygiene

"So Matt and I are seeing a therapist now and it is just so strange."
"What! Why?"
"Well, it's embarrassing really."
Terri gave Emma a knowing look that demanded she elaborate.
"I still can't have orgasms."
"What do you mean you've still never had an orgasm?" Terri yelled it across the well lit parlor of she and Emma's favorite sandwich shop.
"Shhhh. I don't know. Matt and I have been married for five years now and I guess I just can't. I mean I love him and I love having sex with him, I just... can't. I mean it's not that I've never had one ever. It's just been years and years since the last time." Emma had a habit of rambling on past the point where she had said enough. And also skipping from one subject to another seemingly in the same sentence. Talking to her always required an extra few hours if you ever wanted to get to the point of anything. Terri always thought it was cute and school-girlishly sexy.
"A thirty five year old woman should have figured this out by now. What are you going to do about it?"
"I told you, Matt and I are seeing a therapist, his idea, and trying to work our way through it. You know like a sex therapist. It was miserable. Matt cried."
"What."
"Yea, he said he felt bad about it and self conscious and like there was something wrong with him and yadda yadda yadda and now I feel like I need to do something soon before this destroys our marriage."
"Well, hell. Ok."
"OK? That's all you have to say about that. Ok?"
"Fine. Have you tried anal?"
"My therapist thinks I should keep a sex journal and write down my feelings, likes and dislikes and then read over it with Matt and you suggest a dick in my ass? I should have known that we'd end up somewhere totally unhelpful."
"Are you done freaking out about this yet?"
"Well I mean couldn't you think of a better solution. I know I need to lighten up but this is just not helpful. I don't know if Matt would even do it, I don't think I would like it, and there's poop up there. It's gross."
"Ok Em, well here's the plan and keep with me here," Terri always like to make 'plans' and they usually had to do with sexual experimentation. She even convinced Emma to have a threesome with her and a friend in college as a part of some other 'plan' to loosen Emma up and give her orgasms. "When you go home tonight find an old toothbrush. An electric one would be better if you have one. Lube up the toothbrush, lube up your ass and then just slide it up there. Easy peasy."
"What! Not easy peasy. I don't want that up there."
"I can guarantee you that you have had shits bigger than a toothbrush. Just try it and if you don't like it then you throw away an old toothbrush you would have thrown out anyhow and nobody will ever be the wiser."
"I don't know." Emma had always been reserved and inhibited. She couldn't picture herself alone in her house with a toothbrush up her ass.
"Or I could buy you a dildo and you could try it out with that. I'm thinking something classy and tasteful ten inches long and eight around. Tasty."
"I think I'll take my chances with the toothbrush."

Emma decided on forgetting that conversation and went home after lunch, new journal in hand with every intention of putting the moves on Matt and then writing about it in her new journal. But she got home and found a note from Matt saying that he was headed out with some buddies for an early dinner and some late beers and for her to not wait up for him. She set the journal down next to the note and started cleaning the kitchen and making herself generally useful around the house, but every time she passed the journal thoughts about anal kept popping into her head. It couldn't hurt to try it. And Matt wouldn't be home for hours. She did have an old toothbrush that she hadn't thrown out yet. It was an old electric one that she had stopped buying replacement bristles for because she had gotten the thing as a gift and never really liked it.

She thought about taking it into the bedroom, but what if it were messy and Matt noticed, so she slowly undressed in front of the mirror with her bottle of 'his and hers' lubricant and her old toothbrush and turned on the shower. While the water heated up she bent over in front of the mirror and spread her ass apart to reveal her puckered asshole. She relaxed a little and so did her ass. It can't be that bad right? I mean a toothbrush is very small she thought. Steam started to fog the mirror and she got into the shower. She started by running her hands over her body lingering on the places she liked to be touched, her breasts, inner thigh, the curve of her hips and then slowly started touching her clit and ended up fingering herself for a while. After a few minutes of warming up she grabbed the lube though she hardly needed any she was so wet and slid the toothbrush slowly into her ass. At first the angle of her body was awkward but it didn't feel bad so she readjusted until she was relaxed and comfortable. It started to feel really good so she kept going. The longer she thrust it into her the more aroused she became and started rubbing her clit with her free hand. She could feel climax coming soon and her juices were mixing with water and flowing down her legs. She was wetter than she had ever been. She kept thrusting and rubbing her clit and then without thinking flipped the on switch with her thumb as the toothbrush came to life. The moment the vibrations began in her ass she came. Violently. And hard. Cum flowed rapidly out of her and she collapsed on the floor of the shower unable to control the muscles in her legs just laying there for who knows how long.

When Matt came home later that night she was still awake.
"Oh, you shouldn't have waited up for me. It's late." He walked over and kissed her on the forehead and smiled lovingly at her sweet face, cheeks still flushed from her shower. Emma gave him a devilish smirk and then looked at the counter top and her journal.
"I have something you should read."