Written by walter
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Tags: Sex

Thursday, 2 October 2008

image for Illicit Love

I, like other modern slaves, was on a paid vacation at a beach. While walking along the beach, I was impulsively forced to land my eyes on an exquisitely pretty woman, in bikini, lying on the sandy beach when my friend asked me what I was doing. I replied, "Receiving some light or rather electromagnetic energy." His ludicrous look led me to say: "That's the way a visual organ functions, otherwise we must be blind."

Anyway, when the waves reached my eyes, I felt a walnut-size spot squeezing hard down my abdomen!

While I was watching that sleeping beauty, or rather when the waves reached my brain, I could vividly see a barely covered crevice or score between her legs, fringed with some strands of soft fluffy hair, protruding from edges of the bikini panties. The barrages of impulses firmly and instantly registered in my mind.

It was at this very moment that the sirens at the beach went off announcing the approach of 'Ike Hurricane' and advised the sunbathers to immediately leave the beach for a safe place.

She reluctantly opened her inquisitive eyes, asking what it was all about. She accepted my offer to share my nearby fortified underground basement.

During our walk toward the basement, I realized the existence of a sharp difference between the mentality of females and males: she, like other females we find at the parties or in streets, it never crossed her mind that men find these scenes nothing but sexually arousing while they, females, maintain a conviction that females do it simply for the sake of following the main stream fashion. However, I conclude that they, in general, covertly enjoy being watched. Their next gratification occurs when they ruminate on the thought, a capability partly unknown to male Homo sapiens.

Anyway, we reached the basement. I offered her my folding cot while I chose to lie down on the cold floor.

Closing my eyes, I drifted into my half-sleep-half-awake state of mind that occasionally occurs to me. It was at this moment that the previously registered mental pictures vividly came alive. Although in reality we had not touched, in that state of mind, I found her hand softly laid on mine while mine was creeping through the fluffy downs toward the crevice. I believe my mind had mysteriously supplemented the desired missing parts from storage.

Anyway, I wonder if she heard me blurting it out loud when it all happened.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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