F is for Fantasy


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Swinging, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, Squirting, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, .

Desc: Sex Story: A fantasy Jar becomes the key to new discoveries and lots of wild exciting sexual encounters.

We'd only been married a short time, though we'd each been married before. And we'd made a promise to one another, both having suffered through the pains of rejection. Simply put, life was too short not to explore and enjoy our hearts desires.

I had told Carol early on that regardless of whatever fantasies she might have, I would do my level best to see that each and every one of them was fulfilled. Similarly, she had made that same promise to me.

It had started out as nothing more than a suggestion, but we both thought it might be fun to see where it led, see how it went. And if we held to our promises, then we both felt it would keep that fire, that passion we'd so missed knowing and having alive.

"So baby, what do you think?" she'd asked.

"I like it," I told her. "But it will only work if we both commit to doing it," I explained.

"I will if you will," she purred suggestively. I was already becoming aroused at just the thought of doing this before we'd even begun.

"Ok, the blue slips are for you, the pink one's for me."

"Naturally', I laughed taking the five neatly cut squares of paper Carol had made for me as she took five of the pink one's for herself.



"Not that you need any help doing this, but maybe we should fill them out naked, if we're even more aroused, excited as we do this, then perhaps we'll be more open and honest about what we put down."

I liked her idea.

There were few rules, though there were some. We'd discussed these before hand, agreeing to honor them, otherwise we both knew this would fail. There would always be five slips of paper in the jar from each of us. If one was drawn, another must be written to replace it. Another being that we must both draw at least once a month, though frequency wasn't an issue, something which had both made us smile and laugh wickedly.

Like kids anxious for presents, we pondered the concept of secret pleasures being shared. But the biggest rule perhaps, was in agreeing sometimes a fantasy was just that. A fantasy.

We agreed to be open enough, if indeed we were bold enough, to put our most secret desires on paper. It didn't mean they would ever be realized. It was a built-in failsafe perhaps, just because Carol or I had a desire or wish, didn't mean it would be the others. Nor that it would ever be fulfilled. It might in fact remain forever within the realm of our "fantasy jar" as we now called it. But it was also to be understood, don't put in the jar what you don't want to happen either.

Seeing her write, watching her nipples harden with obvious excitement as she did was a bit of a 'mini' fantasy itself. I enjoyed it whenever I could convince her to simply stay naked, even doing mundane chores around the house, and though she looked upon herself with imperfections, I saw none of those. Seeing only the beauty and allure that had caused me to offer her my heart and soul in the first place.

"What are you doing?" she asked taking notice of me as I sat staring at her. "I thought you'd have all of yours written by now," she said with a flush growing within her cheeks.

I laughed. She was obviously aroused, whatever she had written, regardless of how simple, or perhaps how detailed her desires might be. The fact she was so willing to write them, in order to share them was a luxury I was enjoying and seeing.

"I'm still thinking," I offered lamely, as though I didn't already have a head filled with naughty little desires.

"Yeah right," she grinned back. "Come on," she coaxed anxiously, "We agreed Ron, we'd give this a try."

I wasn't having a problem with that, I had already made a promise to myself, no matter what she had written, no matter her desires, how silly, how 'out-there' or even how decadent they might be. I had vowed to myself, and silently to her, I would indeed fulfill each and every one.

Having said that to myself, I finally put pen to paper and began to share with her, even if it wasn't to be known immediately my hearts most wicked thoughts.

We'd drawn cards to see who would go first, a precautionary measure from springing any planned surprises simultaneously, though the odds of that remote. Remaining flexible as well, swapping turns as it were should the circumstance or opportunity to do something thus taking precedence.

I had drawn her first slip, enjoying the curious look, which came into her eyes as I read it silently to myself. And though she knew it to be one of five that she had written, the secret of which remained with me as I digested her desire, already formulating its completion within my mind. I was grinning too. "This is going to be fun," was all I said, as she grinned back, reaching into the jar.

Her first had been simple, perhaps a way of easing into the game. But it was never-the-less a fantasy, and I had every intention of ensuring it lived up to her every desire.

It couldn't have been more perfect as it turned out, both unexpected, as well as perfectly timed. Carol had come home from work, an unusually busy day where she'd spent the better part of it on her feet. And, it had been a longer day than usual as well. I'd arrived home well before hand, the brief call she had made telling me she'd be home later than usual giving me the time and opportunity I needed to put things into motion.

Her first "fantasy" written into few words simply indicated, she wished to be pampered, taken care of, and pleasured. Sure... perhaps it left a lot of wiggle-room. I could have taken license with it perhaps as well, but written as simply as it had been, so did I believe a simple response to be the correct one as well.

She looked tired upon arriving home, and though giving me an affectionate greeting and kiss, headed upstairs almost immediately after to change. I followed. Slipping off her shoes, she turned seeing me standing beside her even as she reached to begin unbuttoning her blouse.

"Let me," I said simply replacing her hands with my own.

"I need to shower," she responded. It was a polite way of letting me know if I wanted to... she would. But also that she needed some time, some time to gather herself. Time to relax if indeed there was to be any intimacy between us.

I said nothing, only smiling as I continued to unbutton her blouse, slipping it off her as she then automatically reached behind to remove her brassiere. "No," I said softly. "Let me."

Again she acquiesced to my request, finally smiling, though again more politely than annoyed. She was never annoyed with my attentions, never that. But tired was tired, and that she told me in her simple look as she gave into my request.

I removed her bra. Then lowered my hand to unzip her skirt, turning it, then watching it fall around her feet as she stepped from it, once again her hands automatically reaching for the black satin panties she wore. My hands again replaced hers, wordlessly this time as she allowed me to pull them down, once again stepping out of them as she placed her hand upon my back for support. "Just give me a few," she spoke softly. That need to relax so clearly etched within her face, the tone of her words, though the promise of 'coming around' when she had spoken being given within the same phrase.

Carol headed for the bathroom, and once again I followed. This time she shot me a brief though annoyed look. "I have to pee," I explained giving reason.

Carol's hand reached the door opening it, as she stepped into a whole new world.

It was already lit with at least two-dozen softly burning candles. The bath still exquisitely hot as I'd gauged her arrival perfectly. She turned smiling even as I crossed the room to press play on the CD player, filling the room suddenly with the sounds of soothing soft music. Beside her, the bath steamed with pyramids of bubbles still waiting. Gingerly, she slipped one foot into the near scalding hot water, allowing herself to adjust to it, beaming now as she turned, grinning.

"God I love you!" she stated, her look now not quite so tired, certainly far from annoyed.

Easing herself into the hot tub, she pulled the bubbles towards her like a comforting blanket, leaning back to relax as I joined her there, sitting casually on the toilet seat as I poured her a glass of wine.

I saw the exhaustion slowly vaporize away. The smile still spread across her face as she soaked, the bubbles playing peek-a-boob with her breasts. We sat for a time unspeaking, her eyes closed as the weariness finally soaked away. After a time, she sat up her hand reaching for the washcloth.

"Uh, uh," I told her. "That's my job." I began to wash her back, soaping her first, massaging her neck and shoulders, rinsing, and then washing again. She leaned back, once again eyes closing as I began washing her feet, her legs, repeating the process over and over again though the effort certainly not needed for she was already squeaky clean merely from her soak. I ran the bar of soap now up between her legs, still watching her face, her eyes still closed in rapturous repose. Felt her spreading them slightly beneath the layer of snow-like white that yet hid her womanly treasures.

Though it was the bar of soap itself that first caressed, teased, sliding smoothly and easily up the openly displayed folds of her slit, it was my finger delicately probing as the soap now floated away which caused her to moan expectantly.

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