I always believed what I read once in a book where it said that the brain CANNOT tell the difference between fantasy and reality. It’s very true. When I read something or hear a fantasy, my brain doesn’t say, “hey this is not real, it’s just a fantasy”. My brain actually thinks or “feels” the fantasy and my body responds as if it is actually happening. For example: If you imagine you’re biting into a lemon right now, what will happen? Your mouth will start watering and you might even squish your face because the thought of biting into a lemon makes you “feel” the sourness. Try it! Same thing happens to me when I read a story or imagine a fantasy in my head. It can be quite arousing.
As my ABOUT ME states above, I get highly aroused by people who can stimulate my largest sexual organ, MY BRAIN. It’s so much more pleasurable to hear a story than to fuck myself to oblivion until I cum. In this clip, I was in a LIVE show on cam while a member told me a story. I guess you can say that I’m very “sensitive” when touching myself while imagining a fantasy. I COULD FEEL IT like it was actually happening. After this session I received an email with a story attached. It was this movie that inspired the story – not the other way around like in my previous entries.
Here’s the full story:
Their most blissful moments were always the first. That instant realization that they were alone at last, eager and able to cast aside the cares of the day. The little rituals: pouring drinks, lighting candles, turning off the phones, turning down the bedding – aroused them more than any erotica at their disposal. Their eager eyes shone brightly in the candle light, their cheeks flushed in anticipation as they took turns helping each other disrobe; a glance here, a touch there signaling whether to leave it on or take it off. Funny how their sensual minuet always left their bodies arrayed in just the right colors and textures, while allowing easy access to their most erogenous zones.
His most splendid moments were always after they took their last gulps of Effen, and she laid back on her favorite satin pillows. This invited him to roll off his left side, up and over her right thigh (clad this night in black silk), to nestle between her legs. Sometimes, he’d kneel, or rest on his haunches. While at times, he’d balance on his knees, with the palms of his hands down on the bed, near her shoulders. But he never failed to ensure that he could see her eyes – whether through the bangs she sculpted so precisely; or, after playful debate, brushing them aside, offering the unobstructed view he craved. She savored his touch as they swam in each others’ eyes, whether he was massaging her breasts and shoulders, or alighting his lips on her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, offering affectionate pecks she gladly accepted.
Her most serene moments always began when even he tired of worshiping her face, and he would raise their foreplay to higher strata. His approach was limited only by his imagination, and by his sense of her mood: did she want to be caressed and cared for, or ravaged like she was on rails? Tonight he sensed she wanted it long, deep and hard, without further ceremony; and he was determined to oblige. He stayed riveted on her face, glowing in the candlelight, and watched her self-satisfied smirk turn to a seething snarl as the tip of his cock pierced her dripping slit and slithered deftly inside her. His eyebrows arched with satisfaction, knowing she reveled in the penetration as if she was taking him in for the first time.
Her oily, silken portal sucked him ever deeper as he pressed. They were careful to hold their heads perfectly still, his over hers, and to breathe through slightly parted lips, as their eyes scanned each others’ faces for signs of gathering rapture. They stared relentlessly, as if they were video cameras, content to channel their sensations up and through their vocal cords, cooing and murmuring in harmonic unison.
On nights like this, they played his favorite game, seeing who could make the others eyes close more. He arched his back as he thrust, raising his bulbous glans against her g-spot, guaranteed points for him on every level. She raked his back and shoulder blades with her nails, and brushed his calves with her heels while arching her lower back. Try as he might, his eye lids fluttered as he gasped, failing to resist her wiles. As his paced quickened in response, she slid her feet down to his Achilles tendons and pressed, lifting her bottom off the sheets so he could drill ever higher inside her.
The game was on full tilt, as they surrendered to passion and abandoned all limits. He began to moan as he lowered his head inches from hers. She bit her lower lip as her head flailed from side to side, the sinews in her neck taught and straining. Her cries of “Help me, dear God, help me!!” were met with relentless stabs, the base of his cock crashing against her clitoris, her cervix rubbing against his cock head, her love tunnel drizzling nectar down the outside of his shaft. He growled, “Yes, yes, take it take it like that – just like that!” while he rode her, and then pulled out so they could cry out and spray each other in streams of warm cum until they were drained and spent.
All the while, his gaze never left her face, immersed as he was in her lusty countenance. Sometimes, she wondered what he saw in her, but not on nights like this. They knew this special bond, this Elegant Ecstasy, was rare, exquisite, and never to be taken for granted. –Rico Sandinista
