Video Gaming Frustrations

This is by far the longest story I have ever written, not to mention the least flattering of me. But to do it any shorter or any differently would be dishonest, and sell it short. Feel free to skip this to some faster reading if you want, but I will say I am proud of what I have written here.

She nearly ran over me as we walked into the massive electronics store. There, I listened standing behind her as she got the same bad news everyone else all over town was giving: "We are sold out." She was obviously shopping for her child(ren). Of course, I was shopping for myself, but what I was shopping before became very different. She was wearing a nice red sweater, showing off her curves beautifully. The v-neck revealed just a little white bra strap, very pleasing to the eye. A nice pair of jeans that was tight in the right places beautifully complemented her figure. I guessed she was about early-to-mid-30's, as her hair was dyed to look natural, and brushed straight, and her skin was nothing short of sensational. All-in-all, though a very attractive package. I stood just a hair close to her as she talked to the salesman, asked a couple of questions myself and walked outside just pacing myself a bit. Sure enough she
walked out behind me, extremely frustrated.

"I'm heading to the mall, do you know if they have any there?" Now, to tell the truth, I did know, and I knew the answer was not only NO, but HELL NO. But then, I was trying to get some video game box any more.

"Not off the top of my head, but I'd bet against it." Can't seem totally dishonest here, can I?

"Well, that's where I'm heading." Bingo, invitation. Misery loves company and all that.

"Okay, I'll follow you there." She popped into her SUV (Infiniti, of course) and I trailed it right along, formulating my plan. Needless to say, the fifty-fifty I was on going to work today was now a zero-one hundred. I had something else to do. We get to the mall, and I have to park a few spaces away. She is walking briskly in, and I overtake her in a light jog.

"Hey, I'm Dave."

"Sharon." Naturally.

"Who's it for?"

"My youngest son."

"How old?"

"Fourteen."

"Why isn't his dad helping?"

"His dad had to open the stores." Now I am getting a nice complete picture in my head. Still married to the father of her kids, started young, very well off, and has lots of spare time today. Practically has a bullseye on her. We get to the store in the mall, and, lo and behold, their inventory was completely exhausted before it went on sale. She is visibly frustrated. Now I am making eye contact, but avoiding any physical contact. I let myself get caught looking at the V of her neckline once.

"Where else have you been?" I ask. As she names off the stores I cross them off in the map in my head. When she asks me, I name off the rest of the stores in the region, with a little bit of overlap. I see her shoulders slack a bit. I place a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, establishing that first physical contact. She stares over my shoulder as she starts to describe how angry she is about letting her children down. As she starts to bottom out, it's time to brighten her day (and ultimately mine) a little.

I suggest that a nice lunch might make her feel better. Seeing as how there is no place left to look, you might as well, right? She agrees, and we go off. Surprisingly, the food court passed as nice lunch for her. Conversation moves quickly. I listen a lot, keep her eye contact, and avoid leering at her, and strangely our seats get closer and closer around the corner. After a few
shoulder touches I get a hand to rest on her thigh with no objections. Well, everyone's intentions are now clear, so I get to ask what she is doing the rest of the day, since her previous engagements are off. With a miscellaneous "clean up the house," and a twinkle in her eye, I chivalrously offer my assistance, which she is more than happy to have.

Again I follow her, parking in the three-car garage. As she gets out of her car, I walk to her, placing a hand on her hip. She looks up at me. I lower my head and our lips meet, hers swiftly parting. My tongue slips out to meet hers as her head turns and our faces come closer together to let our tongues caress each other more fully. My hands rove over her back, sliding lower, gently grazing the smooth curve of her bottom. I press her hips against mine, where I can feel
myself already raging against the fabric of my khakis. I step into her, forcing her back against the wall. My hands rise, lifting the red cashmere upward. She smiles against my lips as she breaks the kiss and raises her arms so I can lift it off. I get the material to her wrists, and the image below is exquisite. Her basic white bra has a scalloped lace edge, and it is pulling her soft breasts upward. I hold the sweater at her wrists, trapping her arms upward, my free hand
rising up to cup her breast from below as I start kissing her again. I hear her moan softly against my lips and arch her hips into me. I hold her wrists high, and squeeze her breast, getting a feel for its marvelous softness, admiring the bud of her nipple poking through the fabric. I then run the hand down over the front of her jeans, feel the warmth firing out from between her legs. She lifts one leg and wraps it around me, pulling me in tighter as I lift the sweater off completely and her arms fall around my neck, pulling my head in and her lips go to my ear.

"Let's go some place more comfortable." I step back an she takes my hand, leading my up though a very nice house I barely notice to a lavish bedroom. The imposing four-poster bed is made of dark, knurled wood. She leans back against the post, raising her arms to guide me in to kissing her again. As we kiss, her hands fall to my belt. She starts to tug at it, then slides down to her knees. The two straps of leather frame her face as she bulls the belt partly off and works my khakis open. They fall to my shoes as she then tugs my shorts down. I pull off my shirt as I feel her cool hands gracefully wrap her fingers, one by one, around the shaft. My vision blurs as her runs around and around my throbbing organ. I look down at her, see her mouth slowly open, her tongue extending, and her drop onto me. Her lips wrap around, her cheeks collapse and I can feel myself losing control almost instantly. The back of her throat bumps against the tip and she starts working up and down. Before I fully realize the intensity of the moment, I can feel myself pumping, firing hot jets into her mouth. She holds the tip barely inside her mouth, letting the fluid arc inside. As the last rush finishes, I feel her tongue working under my shaft, squeezing every drop out of me. She smiles.

"Let me get something a little sexier on." I look down and notice that I have a crushed pair shorts on a crushed pair of khakis bunched on my still-on socks and shoes, with a belt half-fed through there. And while I find her white bra and perfect jeans absolutely sexy, I can tell she is thinking of something spectacular. Not to mention I could use a few minutes to recover. She steps into her closet, while I quickly dispense of my clothes and step over to the bathroom
and freshen up. I am just done cleaning up in the bathroom when I hear her voice.

"Over here." I turn to an absolute vision of satin and lace, red and black, corset and stockings, thongs and straps. My mind is racing as I quickly step toward her, naked as a jay, blood thundering through my body. She has donned a black satin corset with red lace trim, matching thong, and black stockings. A wispy black scarf is around her shoulders. I have barely catalogued this in my head, trying to remember this picture, before I have both hands under her hips, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around me, the brilliantly intense heat of her body permeating the thin illusion of sating covering her most intimate areas pressed tight against my resurgent manhood. We are kissing, she is holding my face to hers, I am carrying her to bed. I press her down to the mattress, my hands running over the heavy satin entrapping her body, her legs locked behind my back, her arms racing up and down my back. I pull the scarf away, and force her wrists over her head, which she happily complies with. Trying to remember my best boy scouting knots, I loop around each of her wrists, drawing them together, then knotting above them. I take the long tail of the scarf and tie it to the massive bedpost, as Sharon turns herself along the diagonal of the bed. Now, having secured her wrists and her compliance, I take a deep breath and turn back to her.

I lower my face to hers slowly, and her lips part happily, her tongue bursting into my mouth. I carefully open the clips on her stockings as our kiss moves from passionate to furious. Unwilling to break contact, I start unclasping her corset in the tight space between our bodies. Finally, she bursts out her satin prison, and now the valleys below are too tempting. I break the kiss and begins brush my lips down her neck, along the nape, almost to her shoulder. My hands caress her breasts softly, circles the outermost edges, avoiding her nipples. As my hands trace along the outside edges of her body, teasing the edges of her thong, my lips hover above her nipple, my breath wafting onto her body. I seem her shiver a little with each blanket of warm moist air. I slowly open my mouth, breathing out so she is aware of my movements. My tongue slowly extended. I can hear her almost panting in anticipation. My tongue touches her just beyond the areola. I turn my head and circle it slowly, just teasing the edge. I circle again, this time on the darker skin. She moans. I flick the tight, almost diamond-hard bud of her nipple. She moans again. I press the tip of my tongue next to the warm tip, standing high, demanding attention, and circle my tongue round, keeping the tip on the edge and letting the sides of my tongue caress her nipple. She exhales, moaning loudly. My hands continue to trace the outside of her thigh as I whirl my tongue a little more before pressing my lips against her and sucking her soft flesh gently into my mouth, where my tongue teases it further. She starts to squirm a bit between her moans so I turn my attention to her other breast. Instead of a slow tease, I capture in my mouth immediately, and also letting my hand rub her through the wet satin between her legs at the same time. "Oh yes..." she moans as her hips arch against my hand. I am almost
pushing the material inside her as I rub her intently. Her moaning is becoming more constant now.

I release her breast from my mouth and begin tracing a path down her body with my tongue, teasing the edge of her ribs, her navel, and the bones of her hips. My hand leaves the hot valley it had been busy working in and runs to the small bow knot on either side of her hips. Two gentle tugs and her thong is open. I peel the fabric slowly from her body, exposing her neatly trimmed sex. I lower my head to her. My tongue reaches to the very center of her wetness, touching her, tasting her, and curling up, searching for that button. My tongue neatly finds it, and she nearly screams, arching against the scarf that binds her. Quickly I accelerate my tongue's motion, and her moans turn to outright screams, incoherent sounds of pleasure. She is thrashing around me, trying to keep her hips planted, not wanting to interrupt the waves of ecstasy crashing into her body. Suddenly the moans and movement explode into a frenzy of spasms, and her voice cracks, the screams vanishing. I press my lips to her body and lick extra furiously, refusing to let her off this peak. Finally her voice finds her again and she crashes to the bed beneath me.

I slide up to her face, turning her hair away from her flushed face. Her eyes are closed, her breathing is still ragged. I kiss her cheek softly. Her face whips around and her open mouth clamps on mine. Her hips shift below me to allow her legs to wrap around me. Without a word I take my hand and guide myself in. I slowly grind into her, working my deeper and deeper, letting her wetness cover me as our bodies join for the first time. Her head aches back and her teeth clench and I feel her muscle contract tightly around me. I continue with my grinding motion, keeping myself deeply engaged in her. Finally a word escapes her mouth. "More." I start to pull my hips out a little before thrusting in. Another moan and "More!" I pull farther, and crash into her. "YES!" I pull out again letting just the mushroom tip stay inside, keeping that contact before driving home again. "YES!" The screams become increasingly literate. My memories blur. I work harder and harder. The universe compresses to the inches our bodies are joined and her loud, desperate screams. Over and over. Her nails dig abruptly into my back, I arch, plunging my full depth into her and exploding. Her muscles are pumping me, trying to draw me in further. As we lie together, bathed in our mutual heat, I become aware of her scarf draped over my shoulder. As my vision starts to focus again, I can see the crease from where there was once a knot.

Her wrists are still bound together as she holds me close. I feel her push, and roll over, and she stays on me, rolling on top. She rocks a bit from each side as she gathers her legs under her, but still keeps me inside her, refusing to let me melt away. She pointedly holds her wrists over my face and I obligingly untie her. Her hands splay flat on my chest as she playfully clenches her
muscles on me, watching me twitch beneath her. My hands cradle her breasts gently, cupping them. She smiles at me, lost for words but expressing more with a simple, satisfied grin then any sentence could convey. I see her eyes fall to the nightstand, and her face falling. I know this look. Time has put an end to our tryst.

"You have to go. I need to clean up before my husband gets home." The saddest words of my day. She dismounts and dons a robe before turning her shower on. She pulls my face to hers for one last kiss. There are no words for this moment, as I go to don my clothes. I take a final, longing look at her body as steps out of her robe into her shower, and then walk down to my car. I stop at the end of her driveway, look at her house a final time as I complete the memory, then drive off, forever.