Have you ever been completely captured within your own fantasy? No matter how hard you try to get it to go away, you can't, you think about it constantly, it invades your every thought when you're awake and when you're asleep. I have had that problem, and no matter how hard I shook my head the dream wouldn't leave. I knew how to get it to go away, and that would have been to commit the acts that I thought of, but I never thought I would.
I live a pretty normal life. I am a house wife, looking after two small children, a golden retriever, and a house cat, along with taking care of my husband and my house. I am usually shut up in the house, being a one car family, and though sometimes that drives me completely insane I am pretty used to it. I don't do much during the day, clean the house, clean the clothes, and talk to some long distance friends over the internet.
To break the monotony of my day, I write. All of my stories have to do with sex; it is an outlet for me and the thoughts that go through my head. I am a highly sexual person, and the stories help me to release some of my sexuality. Being highly sexual is a part of the problem that I've briefly mentioned, though, it took a long time for me to embrace who I am, and I had help. It wasn't just an awakening in myself, but it was an awakening caused by the words of another person.
His name is James, and though, I've not spoken to him in quite a long time, I have him to thank for opening my mind and my body to the person that I really am. He e-mailed me when I first began to write my stories, and post them so the public could view what it was I had to say, which was almost four years ago now. At first he was kind, and we exchanged pleasantries and fantasies. The pleasantries soon stopped, and he e-mailed me with words that I never thought that I would ever read. In the e-mail he called me a whore, a fuck toy, and a no good slut. The words surprisingly enough caused my body to quiver and my pussy to become soaked. I would have never thought that reading such words would have made me react that way. Being a person that can always pick up on the thoughts of another, either through speaking with them or reading something from them I responded back with what I knew he wanted to hear. I told him that I was exactly what he said, and that he was my Master, who must teach this no good whore how to act.
From there on out our e-mails followed that line, him teaching me how I was supposed to be, and me following his every word. I felt invigorated, I felt a live, and I knew then that a part of me was waking up, and that I was changing, and I liked the change. My actions even changed towards my husband. I became more submissive, and through my submissiveness more demanding in wanting sex, and wanting a lot of it. He too enjoyed the change in me, and had even begun to speak to James, sending to me during the day little scenarios in which him and James used me in every way they could think of. The words they wrote were torture to me, I began to think more about actually wanting to do these acts with the both of them instead of keeping it just in the fantasy world. It never worked out, my husband wanted to keep it just where it was, and I, though not happy, respected his decision.
James and I began to drift apart; we'd gotten so wrapped up in our fantasy world that sometimes it was hard to tell myself that it wasn't reality. We'd fight through e-mails, and finally one day I told him to fuck off. He did for a while, coming back every now and again, but we just couldn't find that same spark that was once there. The relationship ended, though, for me, it ended with a new self-awareness.
After James, there were others, many others, none writing in the way James had, just an exchange of mutual fantasies, which was okay, but it tended to get boring to me after while. Some tried, but it just wasn't the same, there was an underline of equality in their writing. The way they wrote told me that this was something that they had just fantasized about and never had any real experience, James had had real experience, and knew exactly what he spoke of. Even still, there was a couple in which spawned long term friendships, friendships that I still enjoy today, and with them share a kind of love with. This love is different than with love between two people who see each other everyday, those of you who have these kinds of friendships know what it is I speak of. It is a type of mental love, a caring you could say, and a sharing of thoughts that most find hard to share with in someone they see everyday.
I've gone about my e-mail adventures for a long time now, sometimes stopping altogether, in order to recoup, reassess what it is that I am doing, sometimes just breaking because I become bored of it. I looked for another like James, I felt empty without it, and though in my own life I had kept my new way of being, it just wasn't the same as it had been when there was another man involved. My husband would comment about how it seemed that I was losing touch again, I really wasn't, I just wanted more.
I love my husband very much; I love what he has done for me and for our children. I have been with him since I was 14 years old and now I'm 25. Since I've been with him so long, is why I have the problem with my haunting fantasy. I've never known another man, and sometimes the need or maybe the want of knowing what it is like gets to me in ways that it probably shouldn't. I can't help it; the thought of it drives me to the brink of insanity.
Anyway, one year after I met James, and lost James, another person came into my internet life. His name, Theron, I've written about him many times, and have written many stories with him. He is better than James, and when I found him, or maybe I should say, when he found me, I became happy again.
Theron is wonderful, and with every word he writes to me my lust grows, and so does the fantasy that will not leave me alone. I am more submissive towards Theron than I ever was towards James, the two are completely different. James screwed up, letting feelings get involved, and telling me that he loved me, actually loved me, and that he wanted me to leave my husband for him. There was no way that was ever going to happen. Theron, he has never in the three years that I have spoken to him showed anything towards me but the desire to fuck, and I appreciate that to no end. I will never love any man besides my husband, and Theron knows the difference between love and lust, which I must say that sadly for many people those two feelings coincide and they become confused as to how they actually feel.
Theron and I have never stopped speaking to each other. Yes, our communication has been off and on these many years, but that doesn't bother me. We will speak for many months, and then not speak for many more. We accept it, we have other responsibilities, we have our own lives, and we do get busy.
It was during one of our off peaks that the recurring fantasy began to plague me. I really didn't know what to do about it at first, and I kept it to myself for a long time. But with each day it grew and festered in my mind, there were even a couple of times that I thought the dream would come true, certain situations involving my husband could have led up to it easily, but it never went that far. I had had the fantasy many times before, I have even written about it on several occasions, but this time was different, this time it wouldn't let me be.
I had spoke to my husband about the fantasy before, though, never going into complete detail, and afterwards, the talk left me more confused than before, as it normally does when I speak to my husband about our relationship. When the dream wouldn't stop, I tried talking to him again, with the same end result.
"But it won't go away Don."
"It's normal Jess."
"It can't be normal, I've never had something like this happen before, usually fantasies go in and out, this one just won't!"
I had described the fantasy in more detail than I ever had before, and I could tell by the way he looked at me that it had left him a little flustered.
"Look Babe, I don't know what to tell you. I know nothing like that will ever happen. We've talked about that before, and I just can't do that. I can't share you with someone else and feel good about it."
I waved my hand at him, dismissing what he ever else he was going to say. I didn't want to hear about it again. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and looked away from him.
He tried to talk, but I got up and walked away, finding something more important to do in the kitchen.
As the days went by, I began to feel Closter phobic in my own head. I was going past the brink. It helped when Theron and I began to talk again, but not by much. In little ways, incorporated in our own fantasies that we wrote to each other, I would put in the thoughts that were making me feel so crazy. I never came out and said what was bothering me, all I did was hoped he'd get the hint, and it seemed as though he had. Writing things that catered to what I was thinking. Also during this time we began speaking of how both of us would love to meet each other in person. We weren't that far from each other, eleven hours, and if it weren't for our own lives we probably would meet each other as soon as possible. But even that began to fade, and seem an impossibility.
I began to blame the way I felt on being in the house all the time. I hadn't gone out in months, for a while I had been going out at least once a month with friends of mine, but we'd all quite doing that since most of us got busy. I decided on a Tuesday that I would go out that weekend, though, my husband said that I should find a babysitter for the kids, I told him that I wanted to go out by myself. I needed alone time. He didn't seem too happy about it, but understood.
It doesn't bother me to go out by myself; I've been going to the same place since I was 21. The club's name is Joshua's, and most everyone I grew up with since moving to Missouri goes there. So, I knew that I wouldn't be by myself for long, some old friend would show up eventually.
During one of the breaks in our fuck-talk sessions on that Tuesday, I told Theron that I was finally going to go out again this weekend. He never mailed me back, which I didn't find odd, he did mail me at work and he probably got busy. I did find it odd that I didn't hear from him for the rest of the week, but again put it off as him being busy.
That Saturday I went about my regular day, until around nine at night. I got ready to go, while listening to the preaching of my husband.
"Don't drink too much. If you do, you call me, and I'll have some one come pick you up. If there's some one there that can take you home, if you drink too much, you let them. You hear me?"
"Yes, yes, I hear you. I don't really plan on drinking too much anyway. I just want to get out."
"You always say that, and you always come home drunker than hell."
"I promise I won't drive if I get to messed up."
"Okay, good. Are you going to wear that?"
I looked down at my outfit then back up at him.
"Yeah, why does it not look good?"
"I think it looks a little too good for you to be going out by yourself."
I rolled my eyes at him, and continued messing with my hair. I decided to put it up, I usually danced a lot at Joshua's and I tended to get hot very quickly.
I left the house, cranking up the radio as one of my favorite songs came on. I drove the short, fifteen minute drive to Joshua's and parked the car where I always do. I looked around the parking lot, not too many cars there, and none that I recognized. I walked up the stairs and into the front part of the club where i.d.'s are checked and the cover paid.
"Hey, Jessi! Man, haven't seen you in a long time."
I smiled as the doorman, Scott, addressed me.
"Hey Scott how's it going?"
"Just fine, beautiful. You gonna save a dance for me."
I laughed as he winked at me.
"Where's the rest of the girls?"
"I don't know. I didn't call them. None here huh?"
"Nope, why didn't you call them?"
"Wanted time to myself."
"I see. Well, go on in. You don't have to pay the cover or nothing."
I walked in slowly, and looked around. It was still early; the bar wasn't even half full. I walked down to the bar, ordered a drink, and looked around again. I saw a group of guys sitting by the tables that lead to the bathrooms. They stared at me, and I smiled, drawing my attention away from them. I grabbed my drink; I could feel their eyes on me as I headed to my normal seat over looking the dance floor. I sipped slowly on my Zima, and watched the door as people began to come in. A couple of people I knew and I said hi to, but didn't invite them to sit with me. I wanted to be alone right now, plus with my attention on other people I couldn't pay too much attention to the guys that had never stopped looking at me. I could see they were talking, a couple of them pointed in my direction, but I had no idea what they were saying. One man who sat in the corner looked familiar to me, but it is not my custom to go over to people, I make them come to me.
After a while of watching people come in and watching the guys down at the table I decided to go to the bathroom. I didn't have to go, but I wanted a better look at these men, especially the one that looked familiar. I walked slowly down the stairs, my hips swaying in their normal fashion, and headed towards the small hallway to the ladies' room. I kept my head held high, pretending not to even notice the group of guys, who's heads turned as I went into the restroom. I checked my make-up and hair while in there, and went back out. As I walked past the table, one of the guys grabbed my arm. I looked down surprised.
"What's your name Baby?"
"You can just keep calling me that Sweetheart."
He looked annoyed, but smiled. My eyes went to the mysterious man in the corner. I knew him, I just couldn't place him. I knew I'd never seen him here before, and I racked my brain to come up with a name. It wasn't my custom to not place a name to a face I knew but I just couldn't think of it, nor did it look like he was going to give me it any time soon.
"You wanna dance with me?"
I smiled down at the man who held my arm.
"Maybe later, when the DJ actually plays some good music."
"You from around here Baby?"
"Yeah close. How bout you?"
"No we're all from..."
The man didn't finish, a look of pain crossed his face, and I looked back at the man in the corner. He'd obliviously done something to this guy, kicked him probably. His position had changed, and an angry look took over his handsome features. I didn't take my eyes off the man, but addressed his friend.
"Your location supposed to be secret, Sweetheart?"
He looked a little embarrassed, and his other hand went to his knee and rubbed at it.
"Yeah I guess so."
He gave the man a glare, but then smiled back at me.
"Please tell me your name Baby?"
I laughed. I felt a little bad for the poor guy since his friend had kicked him.
"Let go of me and I'll let you know."
He let go of my arm, and looked up at me in anticipation.
I saw it coming, I saw the words of that stupid song come into his head and I stopped him.
"No need for it, please."
He laughed and blushed.
"Now, what's your name?"
"What about your friends?"
I stared back at the man in the corner as he listed off his friends.
"This here is John, Dave, and Tom."
"What about that one?"
I pointed to the man who looked at me as though I was being tested. He got up, and came around to me. I felt a little scared as he came closer, invading my personal space. His hand came to my chin and he squeezed it as he turned my face upward.
"If you're a real good girl Jessi, I'll let you know."
He gave my head a shake and then moved back to his spot. My body shuddered a little with the encounter, and I knew I'd heard his voice before, but from where I didn't know. I patted Mike on the shoulder.
"Okay, Mike, I promise I'll dance with you, but for now, my drink is getting hot!"
I hurried back to my spot, a little glad to get away from the mysterious man. I hadn't felt too afraid to be around him, and that was what made me uncomfortable, the fact that I hadn't had a big reaction to some strange man touching me like that. I ordered another drink, and soon the DJ started to play good music.
I got out on the dance floor. I've never had a problem dancing by myself; in fact I enjoyed it much more than to have someone that didn't know how to dance on me. I watched myself in the mirror as I danced, staying close to the table with the group of guys, looking at them and smiling as I shook my ass. When the song died and another took its place, Mike got up and came out with me. He took direction well, and stayed in time with me. I smiled the entire time we danced, happy to have someone that wasn't going to step on my feet, or knock me off balance. He sat down after the song, I didn't. I can dance all night.
I stayed out there for a while by myself, catching the stare of the man in the corner every now and again and holding it as I moved. Scott came running out on the floor and danced with me for a couple of songs, and then disappeared back to the front door. A couple of men I didn't know came up, and I declined them, they weren't very good dancers.
I took a break, drinking down another Zima in a couple of swallows before going back out on the floor. The next song was slower, not by much, and had a strong Latin beat behind it, my favorite kind to dance to. I began moving my hips and ass, smiling at myself in the mirror, really forgetting about everyone else in the bar, until I felt someone come up behind me. My eyes immediately went to the chair where the man was supposed to be, but he wasn't there. The person behind me grabbed my arms and pulled me close to him. My head rested on his chest, and I looked back and up to confront the mysterious man. He looked back down at me, no expression on his face, as he began to move his body with mine.
A strange feeling came over me; I was completely captured by this man. I couldn't take my eyes from his, and as his hands moved from my upper arm down and around my waist I let out a sigh. I finally broke my gaze and turned my head back to center, but the feeling didn't go away, and other feelings were starting to emerge, feelings that a married woman ought not to have when dancing with another man. These feelings were heightened when his hands found their way up my belly and to my breasts. The song with the strong Latin beat had ended and a new faster song took its place. The man made my hips move in time with the music as his hands began to knead my breasts. If it weren't for him making my body move I would have stood there completely frozen. Feelings of guilt began to creep into me, and I broke from my trance, bringing my hands to his and trying to pry them off of me. He wouldn't allow it, I fought, but he was much stronger than I. His head bent down, and his lips came to my ear.
"Be a good girl Jessi. You like it admit it. I've been watching you. I've seen the way you move this fine little body of yours, teasing every cock in this building, and a little cock-tease whore should like the attention that she receives when one man decides he's had enough teasing."
I shook my head that had not been my intentions at all. I was just here to dance to have a good time.
"Don't disagree with me slut!"