NEW STORY TITLE: My Perfect Love & Lust (Exhibitionist & Voyeur Erotica)
MY INTRODUCTION TO CFNM
He didn’t know what CFNM was. But, she did.
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Author’s Note: I apologize for the slow start on this story. This is a new genre for me, and i hope you will love it.
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I have come to accept the fact that there are many different levels of love and lust. For example, you can love your car or your favorite rock band, but that type of love isn’t the love that will fill your heart with happiness and make you feel warm and content from morning to night. For the most part, you’ll only get that kind of fulfillment from loving another human being.
To go along with that, we can lust for someone we see, perhaps a person that catches our eye in a certain way, but in most cases, that lust is only a fleeting wish…. a mere unobtainable twinge of excitement when we see them then it’s gone once the moment passes or they are out of sight.
So, alas, many of us are destined to accept and be satisfied with what ever love and lust we happen to have available to us at any given point in time. We accept these available levels of love and lust because that’s the practical thing to do. We settle for what we have and the rest becomes fantasies, wishes and dreams.
Of course, the best possible situation is when the person you have available to love is the same person you constantly and fully lust for. It’s even better if that person reflects back your love and lust so that the two of you feed each other’s feelings, wants and desires. I don’t know many people who have that kind of reflecting relationship. But, I do know a few, and I am, as you might be, incredibly jealous of them.
While I used to consider myself happy in love, the truth is that I have settled for what is within reach. Running parallel to that is the fact that I used to consider myself happy in lust, too. But, I realize now that I have settled for what is within reach there, also. While the love and lust within reach used to be enough to keep me satisfied, I find myself more and more looking for that robust and deeply contenting love and the lust that goes along with it hand in hand.
That brings me to a point to where I can start this story.
I have heard it said that for each person, there is a perfect mate. For each of us there is someone, somewhere who we can unconditionally love perfectly and completely, both from the heart and from the crotch. You know what I mean, don’t you? That certain person with whom you would be eternally satisfied to simply sit next to, or to hug, or just hold hands with. It’s the person whom you sexually desire so much that it’s not your own sexual pleasure you long for but, in fact, it’s their pleasure and gratification which brings you joy. We have all known that one perfect love, or had one, or had the chance with one – that perfect person that tweaked you just the right way in your heart and deep in your undies.
For me, it’s not a matter of thinking back to the past. She’s a friend of mine my friend Sharron. I’ve known her for at least ten years. Most people would characterize our relationship as being platonic, but for me, it’s much more. She is, without a doubt, my perfect love…. and my perfect lust. The only problem is that she hasn’t realized it (yet). I’m pretty sure she sees me as her “non-threatening male” since I’ve never really tried to hit on her.
Now, being seen as a non-threatening male is both a good thing, and a bad thing. It’s a good thing because it opens up a lot of opportunities to be together when she doesn’t have to have her guard up and she can simply be herself.
When it’s only the two of us together, I get the greatest joy just being in Sharron’s presence. She is, for me, the most beautiful and the sexiest woman in the world. And, given half the chance, I know I could easily be hopelessly and totally in love with her.
We’ve shared secrets, helped each other with our ups and downs, gone through episodes of car problems, illnesses, surgeries…. you name it and we’ve either done it or shared it.
On the flip side, being the non-threatening male can also be horrible because I can’t really show any affection to her as a woman since that might destroy the special relationship I have with her as the non-threatening male. If she knew that I was in a constant state of sexual excitement when I was around her, or that it was her face and her body I dreamed of when I masturbated, how would she react?
All of that became a mute point a few weeks ago, though. In the flash of an eye, it all changed and an opportunity was created where one had never before existed. That’s what this story is about.
We both happened to find ourselves out after work one night, helping a friend celebrate her birthday at a local watering hole. Eight or nine of us sat around the table trading stories and telling each other what we’ve been up to. Eventually, Sharron and I ended up sitting next to each other. Of course, after a few drinks our knees had accidentally touched under the table, and our elbows had rubbed all of it harmless touching, but it was driving me to a point where my cock was about to explode. I’m sure she didn’t even realize what she was doing to me – the innocent nature of it creating just the right tension to set me on a long, slow boil.
As the waitress returned to check our drinks, one of the girls with us ordered “Sex On The Beach”. My ears and eyes perked up upon hearing those words. Seeing my surprised expression, the girl of my dreams leaned over to me and whispered “It’s a drink, silly.”
Now, I don’t get out to the bars much and I’m definitely not up to date on the latest drink names, but when she saw the curious look on my face she said “Don’t tell me you’ve never had Sex On The Beach?” Before I could answer, Sharron leaned in close to me and said “Or, maybe you would prefer to try a Slippery Nipple?”
I couldn’t stop my self, and, with the alcohol firmly in control I took a chance and answered her in a way that could have a very broad interpretation. “Damn, I’d almost be willing to get naked for that!”
“Ah,” Sharron replied, “so the idea of having a Slippery Nipple with me appeals to you, does it?”
“Baby,” I answered confidently and nonchalantly, “you have no idea how much I would give to share a slippery nipple with you.”
As she pulled back, her eyebrows rose and I saw clearly that she fully realized the embedded and implied meaning of my reply. She was surprised, I could see that, but she didn’t act disgusted or mad at my comment. I dared not go any further with it, though. She got the message, I was sure of it.
The next hour was filled with more innocent touching of our hands, shoulders and feet. For me, it was pure torture since it only served to increase my level of excitement, causing my hard-on to throb uncontrollably in my pants. I doubt she knew I was about to go over the edge and spontaneously erupt inside my jeans, spewing hot cum all over myself. When I knew I could take no more of it, I made up an excuse and told them I had to go.
They all said goodbye to me as I started to gather my things and stand to leave. But in the semi-darkness of the bar, she stood also and moved toward me to give me a gentle, friendly hug. I’m sure those who saw the hug might not have thought much about it, but, when I felt her breasts swell into me and her pelvis press firmly into my engorged erection, ‘friendly’ was not the word I would have used.
“We’ll have to work on that slippery nipple thing.” Sharron whispered. “Who knows, I just might call your bluff.”
“It’s no bluff.” I replied, looking directly at her. “I assure you,” I added, “I wasn’t kidding.” For a minute, she appeared shocked. Then a small smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. As I turned to walk toward the door, she gave me a little wave to send me on my way.
Knowing the alcohol must have moved her to tease me, I didn’t give our brief conversation much thought as I left the bar. But after a few minutes and as I was about to pull out of the bar parking lot, I got a text page from her on my cell phone asking “U were just kidding right?”
Answering as quickly as I could, I text paged her back saying “No, I wasn’t kidding.”
I didn’t see her again for a few of days. But she called my cell phone one morning while I was at work asking if I wanted to meet her for lunch that afternoon. So without much discussion I answered “Sure” and we made plans to meet for lunch.
During our lunch neither she, nor I, brought up the subject of the bar, the slippery nipple, or my comment about being naked. That is….. until it was time to leave.
It was my turn to pay the check. So after I paid and the waiter brought me my change, she casually got up from where she was sitting on her side of the booth and quietly slipped into the booth right beside me. As I scooted over to make room for her, she crossed her arms over her chest and announced that I wasn’t going anywhere until we finished our discussion from the night at the bar.
“Okay,” I said, “which discussion was that?”
“Come on, don’t play dumb. You know damn well what discussion I’m talking about.” She replied.
“Is this about the slippery nipple comment?” I asked.
“Well,” she interrupted, “if I remember correctly, I think you said something about willing to get naked when I asked if you wanted to try a Slippery Nipple.”
“Oh, please,” I said, trying to protect my non-threatening male position, “you know we were all drinking that night.”
“The way it sounded to me was that you made some kind of offer to get naked if I showed you my nipple.” She explained. “Then when I text paged you to ask if you were serious about it, you said you were. Am I missing something here, or, is my memory going bad?”
I couldn’t look her square in the eyes. I reached for the glass of water sitting in front of me and I took a big gulp. “Actually,” I said, “I didn’t specifically say those words, but, that was definitely the intent. I really didn’t expect you to pick up on it, though.”
“Then I picked up on it correctly, didn’t I?” She asked. “You would get naked if I showed you my nipple?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“You mean you would get totally naked and stand in front of me like that just to see my nipple?” She asked again.
This time I looked at her when I answered. “Yes,” I replied, “I would.”
“Just to see my nipple? One nipple? Don’t you think that’s kind of an extreme thing to do just to see a stupid nipple?” She asked. “Why would you do that?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I replied, “I don’t think you could ever understand, Sharron.”
“Well, why don’t you try me,” she said, “maybe I’ll understand if you explain it to me.”
At this point, I was in a no win situation. There wasn’t much I could do to get myself out of this mess. The best I could do is be truthful with her and hope she would understand.
“Sharron,” I began, “before I explain, will you promise to forgive me for anything I might say and promise it won’t ever affect our friendship?”
“I promise,” she replied, adding “we’ve been friends far too long for anything as ridiculous as a nipple to come between us. Besides, what’s the big deal about a nipple, anyway?”
“I’m glad you feel that way, and I hope you still feel that way after you hear me out.” I said. “And, remember you promised to forgive me…. I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Yeah, ok,” she replied, “so what’s all this about?”
“The truth is, uh, and this is hard for me say…. is that I love you.” I started out. “I mean, I’m in love with you. Not just as my friend, but, as a woman, too. I dream about you every night, Sharron, and when I think about making love, I dream that it’s you I’m making love with.”