Photo and Painting Portal No. 5 - Cover

Photo and Painting Portal No. 5

by Mat Twassel

Copyright© 2022 by Mat Twassel

Erotica Sex Story: Emma yearns to explore the woman's sex, but would it be proper to do so uninvited? Illustrated.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Fiction   Time Travel   Illustrated   .

Daphne Todd, Landscape between legs

What a fetching scene. The title invites us to consider the landscape of both legs and the vista beyond, but it also invites us to imagine the scene seen from the opposite side, a view between the woman’s legs from the landscape’s point of view, or anyway that’s what occurred to me. Of course the woman is wearing a pair of blue underwear, and nothing especially flimsy or frilly, which denies us, in a sense, the most intimate view of her sex. Rats! as my little cousin might say, not that my little cousin (Amelia) is old enough to wonder about such things. Probably. But I am, and because I’m empowered to enter the scene, I feel I might as well take advantage of it. It does cross my mind that I might be taking advantage of the woman in an improper way. That gives me pause. So from a distance I contemplate. And part of my mind urges the woman to take some action. Don’t just lie there—push that blue pair of underwear to the side and explore yourself. My urging has no effect. The woman is just too dreamy. Or could it be she’s already pleasured herself, and now she’s basking in the afterglow of orgasm? I both like and dislike that idea.

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One thing I know from personal experience: being sexually touched by someone is totally different from touching oneself. But whether that difference is good or bad depends on many things, most especially who it is that’s doing the touching. I push that thought to the side. I really want to know what this woman’s sex looks like. I really want to know her cunt scent, the color and shape and taste and texture. I also want to know the sounds she makes as her orgasm approaches and arrives. Does she squeal or gasp or sigh or pant? Yowl or howl or make no noise at all? I take two steps closer. Perhaps I’m on the verge of lowering myself over her, of sliding those dark blue panties aside and discovering everything there is to know about her cunt, even as I press my own cunt to her face.

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“Mama.” It’s a child calling. “Coming darling,” the woman says, and as she rises from the bed, I quickly slip away.

 
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