I am thirty-three years old, married with two c***dren, and have an active sexual relationship with my wife. Being an army officer, we have traveled and lived in Europe for a total of almost five and one-half years. Much of our present atti-tude toward sex has been positively influenced by the Euro-pean acceptance of male and female sexuality.
We have been married for ten years. We met in college and lived together for nearly two years before we were mar-ried. My wife is three years younger than I and both of us are from the East Coast. We have experimented with many sex-ual techniques and enjoy oral and occasionally anal sex. We’ve tried group sex only once, with a girl we both knew and liked. None of us were really mature enough to handle the feelings that emerged.
Men often get a very incomplete picture of women be-cause they are always told to “keep your hands to yourself” and “good girls don’t do that sort of thing” by women (from mother to girl friend to wife) who seem to be programmed to deny female sexuality. Personally, I was very happy to dis-cover women to be “just like us” (when it comes to sexual enjoyment) when I read your first book and got enough cour-age to ask my wife about it.
The following fantasy is long but I have tried to be as de-scriptive as possible in an effort to present my feelings accu-rately. In my own way, I would like to contribute to a better understanding of that much maligned human experience – sex.
I take an archaeological vacation to the site of Pompeii and Herculaneum. After a week of work, excavators uncover a crypt. I take it upon myself to explore the new discovery and find the crypt leads to an enormous cavern filled with statues, mausoleums, and, in the very heart of the cavern, a great mar-ble temple! The entire cavern is lit by a ghostly lumines-cence. I soon discover the source of the eerie light, phospho-rescent lichen.
My curiosity soon leads me to the temple steps. I know lit-tle of archaeology, but I know enough to realize I gaze upon an archaeologist’s dream come true, a perfectly preserved section of the outlying district of an ancient city. I advance along a large hallway. Suddenly the passageway opens into a great hall. I stare in awe at the ancient wonder before me, the stone seems to move. I touch it to reassure myself, then it does move! I quickly look up, the columns are moving slightly too. Earthquake!
“Oh, my God,” I think, “it can’t be, it can’t bet” As if in answer, the floor shifts and I know it’s true. I am trapped deep within a mountain, this ancient tomb will soon be my modern tomb.
The giant columns sway sickeningly. With a sharp crack and a deafening roar the wall directly in front of me is splin-tered. For an instant I see a burning multi-faceted crystal, then I see no more. Blinded, I hold on to the altar and pull myself onto its flat top. I pass into u*********sness.
After the quake has subsided, those in the outside world assume me dead. Two days later, excavators at the site of the previously discovered crypt entrance find the passageway still intact. Workmen located the great hall and in its center amid the remains of what appears to be a large altar, and dis-cover a severely burned, but still living man.
Taken to a hospital, I am given little chance for survival. I can overhear my wife talking with the doctors. The doctors tell her I am dying, it’s only a matter of time, a few hours, a day, soon. My skin is hardened, a crust; in some places only blackened cinder remains, but I feel no pain.
A week passes, yet I still live! It is a dark, cool night. I feel cramped and yearn to stretch. I move. First one arm, then the other. All the movements are accompanied by soft popping sounds. Last I open my eyes; I see!
I lay in a white hospital bed, the moonlight pours through French windows placed just beyond the foot of my bed. Among the show-white sheets lie black ashes and hard, dis-colored bits of what can only be skin. I look at my legs, my hands, and my arms. Bathed in the moon’s silver glow, my body seems the color of polished copper. Weakly I raise my-self, I must look in a mirror. Am I scarred, disfigured, muti-lated?
With great effort I reach the bathroom and switch on the fight. I stare down at my copper-colored hands as they grip the edge of the white porcelain sink. Steeling myself, I quickly raise my head. “Oh, my God!” bursts from my lips. “What has happened to me?” I stare at the reflection before me. I see myself, but not me at all. The face is the same, but subtle changes have occurred. The face is broader, cheek-bones slightly higher, jaw squarer, and the eyes, the eyes! Where my eyes, once brown, looked out, now eyes of green, jade green, look back at me.
Needless to say, the attending physicians are overwhelmed by my metamorphosis, but none as much as I. Within a month I have regained my strength. I am taller and broader than previously and my hair, a glowing blue-black, is almost completely grown in. I long to return home, especially to see my wife and c***dren again.
After a short time, my life returns to its normal pace. I re-turn to my old job and home. My f****y, friends, and co-workers adapt to my new appearance. One of the most pleas-ant changes resulting from my alteration is a markedly im-proved love life. My urge for intercourse has increased and responses have heightened; this, in turn, has made my wife more responsive. Strangest of all is the amount and composi-tion of my semen. I discovered this the first time my wife and I made love after my transformation.
We were both somewhat hesitant, but after a long session of foreplay, slowly getting used to each other again, the pas-sion rapidly begins building. I caress each part of her body, kissing, licking, sucking – lingering on her throat, nipples (a long time there), small of the back, inside of the thighs, and cant. She tastes wonderful and comes a couple of times as I lick her cunt and tease her clit with my tongue and lips. I then mount her (missionary position) and slowly start moving in and out. In a short time I can no longer control the motion of my hips and I’m fucking like a wild stallion, slamming into her. She meets me thrust for thrust, her head periodically thrashing from side to side. She moans, begs me to keep it up.
“Harder, deeper!” she cries. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” Then WHAM! I come like gangbusters! I’ve never come like this in my life, it’s a gusher. My wife’s eyes are wide with amazement, surprise, and excitement.
“Oh, God! Fill me up with that hot come. Fill me up!” she gasps.
Later, as I slide from her cunt, she’s still gasping and pant-ing. I look down and see her legs wide open, her cunt and ass soaked with come. I stare; I can’t take my eyes off that deli-cious cunt, for covering it is my come, not the white, milky substance I’m accustomed to seeing, but thick, golden fluid. It looks almost like honey!
Lying there, my wife is a picture of beauty. Her face and chest are flushed with passion.
“Oh,” she says, “I never felt that way before; you’ve never come like that before. So warm and wet and soft, I can’t move it feels so good.”
Later that night she wakes me, wants me. “Just lie there,” she whispers, “I want to touch you; love you all over.”
As I lie there, I feel her lips and tongue moving over me, sucking, kissing, licking – it’s marvelous) After teasing my nipples, she slowly kisses her way down my chest and stom-ach to my crotch. She kisses my thighs. My prick is rock hard, the head full and pulsating, but she ignores it. She licks and kisses around my prick and finally takes each of my balls in her mouth and begins softly caressing the head of my prick. Moving from my balls, she licks her way the entire length of my rigid shaft, teasingly licks the rim of the head and then slowly envelops it with her lips. With one hand holding and slowly kneading my balls, she wraps the other firmly around my prick and slowly begins to move it up and down. As she sucks, she caresses the head and rim of my prick with her tongue. She removes her hands and slowly begins to deep throat, taking as much of my prick as she can, finally reaching the base. My hands are gripping the sheets by this time. I want to grab her hair and move her head up and down. Instead my hips begin lifting off the bed to thrust deep into her sucking mouth.
She takes her mouth away, rises to her knees. Bending down, she lays her tits on either side of my aching balls and envelops my cock with her mouth. Her come-slick fingers go to my nipples and touch and squeeze them as I pump in and out of her mouth. Faster and faster moves her head and my hips. I can bear it no longer. I arch my back and pour my hot come into her eager, slurping mouth. The golden come runs out the sides of her mouth and down her chin; she tries to catch every drop. There’s so much she can’t possibly swal-low it all.
“Oh, my God,” she cries, “you taste so good! Sweet, warm, and delicious!”
After many days and nights of loving, my wife tells me that when she swallows my come it creates a fantastic urge to fuck or suck me about a day later. She says the urge peaks at about twenty-four hours and just about drives her crazy for an hour or so, then fades.
I decide to test this theory and one night fill a medicine bottle that has an eye-dropper top with my golden come. There is a very lovely young girl at work and I have dreamed of making love to her. She is the target of my test.
One day I see this lovely girl make a cup of tea. She is called out for a moment and I take the opportunity to sweeten her tea with some of the contents of my medicine bottle. Ob-serving her habits, I make it a point to be close by when she takes her morning cup of tea. I do this for three days.
By the fourth day I am beginning to feel foolish, nothing has happened, and I make up my mind that the whole ex-periment is a bust. However, at eleven thirty, in walks the girl and asks to speak with me about a problem she’s having. I’m very busy at that moment and ask her to return in about twenty minutes (I’m pressing my luck here). At eleven fifty she’s back and appears very agitated. She sits next to my desk and we begin talking. I ask why she wishes to speak with me (I’m not her boss) and she says she’s having prob-lems with her job, can’t talk to her boss, and wants my ad-vice. We go on this way and by five after twelve the office is deserted except for us. She says she really needs my help and begins to cry. I stand, get a Kleenex, and take it to her. She stands, accepts the tissue, and says, “The problem isn’t work. The problem is ... well, really it’s ... (she begins to cry again) oh, hold me, just hold met”
I immediately put my arms around her. I’m not sure, has my experiment worked or is she really in some kind of trou-ble? She lifts her face from my shoulder and looks into my eyes. The look is long and slowly our faces move toward each other and we kiss, long and deep. As I kiss her, I stroke her hair, it’s soft as silk, and pull her body to me. She re-sponds by arching her back and pushing her pelvis into me. After more kisses, I kiss my way down her throat and onto her soft, firm breasts. I unbutton her blouse and begin to kiss and suck her nipples. Her response is to stand and softly moan.
From here the fantasy may take a number of directions. Some of the common themes are as follows:
1. I make love to the girl and end up fucking her on the floor, next to my desk.
2. After kissing and sucking her tits, I eat her cunt till she comes. She then sucks me and swallows all my come.
3. After kissing her tits, she drops to her knees and pulls out my prick and makes love to it till I come all over her face and tits.
4. After eating her cunt, I turn her over my desk and fuck her from behind as I knead her tits and she rubs her clit.
5. I fuck her on my desk till we come together. After a short rest, she sucks me to a full erection and begs me to fuck her in the ass.
I now know that I possess the greatest aphrodisiac in the world: my own come!