Being Nasty (F, solo)

A Fantasy - On Being Nasty!

Diana felt incredibly nasty! She’d met and begun to lust after Gary, a gorgeous man, months before, at an ordinary business meeting, which turned out to be anything but ordinary. He’d brushed past her seat, striding purposefully to take his place before a lecture on futures and options began. He’d knocked her salad into her lap and kept going. It was her outraged gasp that alerted him to the accident. The arrogant giant, in his perfectly fitted business suit, wide shoulders and tight ass, would not even have turned otherwise. Diana had clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes a moment to keep from lashing out at him. Although it was her brand new peach tweed skirt, now stained with raspberry vinaigrette dressing, this was her first corporate meeting.

When she opened her eyes, prepared to deliver the perfect corporately acceptable set down, he’d been looming over her, a linen napkin in his hand and an appreciative grin on his too sexy lips. The fancy set-down had become a simple “Ohh”! She couldn’t gather her wits fast enough to take the proffered peace offering, or return his “let me fuck you by way of apology” look with the disdain any self-respecting, self-supported female of the 20^th century would have leveled without missing a beat.

She smiled as she remembered and twisted in her seat, experimenting with the waves of pleasure that spread through her cunt as she moved. He’d given her the “God’s gift” smirk, having already signaled the waiter for a fresh salad, then knelt, taking her plate and cleaning the spilled salad from her lap. He never hid the smile or the look in his eye as he cleaned her up, careful to apply just the right amount of pressure to her lap to make her pussy contract, forcing the cream of desire past her lips and into her panties. He’d “accidentally” brushed his knuckles against the heavy underside of her breast and took advantage of the opportunity to press the flesh, holding until her breath caught. She remembered the jolt vividly. It had caused her nipples to swell and she’d been glad for the heavy jacket and only hoped that it hid her arousal. Gary had introduced himself, invited her to his table and they found an instant attraction. He had a way of being with a woman that made her feel wanton and sexy. A level of trust developed between them. Diana liked that. She always felt free to explore the hot and nasty side of her personality without shame when she was with him.

The scenery flashed by the window of the train headed south from Ontario, but Diana paid little heed other than to note that the sun was high and the trees and ground cover were full on the late August day. Gary had arranged for her to meet him at a couples resort in the Mountains. All she’d had to do was pick up a package from the receptionist’s desk after work. Her tickets, directions and weekend travel itinerary were all laid out. He’d taken charge of the pace of this weekend and that excited her, left her at ease, yet wondering what was to come. She thought of the little box of toys packed away in her bag and an impish grin spread across her lips as she thought of the surprises she had in store for him.

She knew that beneath the polished exterior and controlled front he presented to the world, Gary was a sensually wise man, in-tune with her body, the way she responded and her moods. He made her feel sexy and good, hot and beautiful all at once. He was a man who liked lush, lewd pleasures; and lush, voluptuous women. He was worldly in the ways of sex and her cunt quivered and moistened itself just thinking of the ways he’d teased and frustrated the hell out of her with the promise of his body, brushing against her extended nipples, touching her ass. He was always hard, his arms, his chest, his thighs. And he used them all, sometimes insistent and unyielding ... other times with just a brush, so slight that she wondered if she’d actually felt anything.

She couldn’t wait to be with him, his eyes stripping her of defenses, probing her desires, baring her needs. She didn’t necessarily like his effect on her, but it excited her to no end. This weekend she had every intention of destroying some of his cool reserve. He used her body like a master flute player and she had every intention of making him as hot, quivering and lust controlled as she felt, right now with the moisture escaping her body as she rode a public train south to Philadelphia.

He’d kissed her the night before, intending only to say goodnight at the door. The kiss had grown into a full body caress as he touched her ample breasts with such gentleness and patience, then, grasped her full bottom, pulling her tightly between his thighs, letting her feel the length and hardness of him against her mound. She’d pressed herself full against the length of him, using his body to ease her need. She fit the cleft between her legs, covered only by her nylon pajamas, to the rigid manhood raised and extending midway down the length of his thigh. She’d grasped his hips and hooked a leg around his calf, breaking his kiss and throwing back her head as she rode him. Gary had supported the back of her neck with one hand, covering her throat with the other, his thumb pressing the indentation at its base. He slid his hand down her throat, her chest, splaying it over the swell of her cleavage, dipping into her camisole, lifting her warm breasts free of the elastic material. He brushed her nipples with the back of his hand, moaning, more to incite her passions than to signal his own. He thrust himself against her, imitating true intercourse, encouraging and goading her into satisfying her own body by using him.

Diana squirmed in her seat, trying to relieve the throbbing between her legs. Her orgasm last evening had been good, but it only seemed to make her want and need him more. She breathed deeply, regulating her reaction as her response grew stronger even though he was still miles away.

Guiltily, she glanced around the train. She was thankful that none of the other passengers paid her any attention, though she was sure her thoughts could be seen on her face, or at the very least in the agitated way she kept adjusting herself in her seat. Ohhh, she wanted him. Badly. She wanted … she needed to be able to touch herself, to make herself come and she didn’t think she could wait the two hours until her train reached its destination. Every time she moved, her lips throbbed, moving in her own slickness, sending waves of pleasure upward, the walls inside of her tightening and releasing.

Uhh! She couldn’t stand it any longer. She was the only passenger in her four-seat cubicle. So she kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the facing seat. She felt nasty, riding a public train with her feet and legs bare to the knees, her light cotton halter dress settling into the v of her thighs, her nipples pressed hard against the fabric, the swell of her breasts encased tightly within the edges of the halter.

She reclined a little, turned her head toward the window and pretended to be asleep with her fists in her lap. She could subtly press her hands against her abdomen, raising herself, meeting the throbbing inside with the pressure from above. Her legs moved back and forth, her right foot caressing the opposite ankle, moving slowly up to her calf and back. It felt so good, soft. It made the wetness, higher up, easing out of her, spread further down the insides of her thighs, feeling warm and luxurious.

She heard the attendant and refreshment cart squeaking up the isle toward her seat and forced herself to slow her movements and relax the muscles of her face that would surely give her secret thoughts away. Having the chance to think rationally for a second, she wondered about her choice of dress. The only thing between the lightweight cotton and her skin was a crotch-less lace body stocking that pulled snugly on her breasts and emphasized the absence of covering on her now swollen lips. Diana tried to adjust herself so the wetness wouldn’t stain the back of her skirt, but she was afraid it was no use. She could feel the heat and slickness and freedom of her body’s lubrication and gave in to the washing sensations, closing her eyes to savor the inner throbbing, soothing and exciting her at the same time. Diana almost groaned in frustration as the attendant stopped beside her to sell her a drink. She said no, and then changed her mind. Perhaps a drink would loosen her up and allow her to relax until she met Gary at the cabin.

She’d finished the drink and slipped her fingers inside of the wrap-up opening of her dress. The attendant had commented on the air conditioner and gratefully supplied her with a blanket. She settled back into position, more than happy now for the open crotch of the soft black lace body stocking. Her fingers pressed her fleshy mound. She sighed, she hoped quietly, as she primed herself, signaling her puss that it would soon find physical relief. Her toes curled and her thighs fell apart at the first sliding touch of her fingers. Her hips lifted, meeting the fingers, opening, feeling cool air and her own warm fingers moving across her slick sex. She moved her fingers, circling, and slipping lower, between and over and around the fleshy folds that led to her entrance.

Back and forth she moved her hands, imagining Gary’s big rough fingers in place of her own. She imagined him pushing the fingers inside of her and widened her thighs more to make room for his big body. He advanced so slowly, firmly, insistently, making way and then easing the pressure. A pleasured noise sounded high in her throat. She imagined his big fingers stretching her body instead of her own small ones. One of his fingers felt incredible and she shivered. He added another and she held her breath, feeling the air around her body, the rough blanket over her nipples, the naked flesh of her feet and calves. In and out she stroked herself with his fingers - stretching, forcing a third finger inside of her tight opening. Forcing another quiet moan from her lips as orgasmic tension made her convulse, pulsing waves of pleasure spread through her abdomen, down to her mound, inside to her womb and out past her fingers in a bubbling rush of warmth. She closed her legs, trapping the hand in between her thighs, riding the waves of her pleasure. She couldn’t reach deeply, where she wanted Gary’s touch to soothe her and provide real release. But she could fit four fingers just inside of the opening, delving into the tightness as far as she could. She cupped her palm over her sensitive nub, pressing hard on the mound and clit, doubling her sensations, her fluids running freely to the seat beneath her.

She needed him. Panting quietly in frustration, her eyes opened and she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the window. Simultaneously, her finger inside touched the sweet spot and the face looking back at her became Gary’s. He smiled, knowing her with his eyes and the orgasm broke hard as she pressed, stiffening, rising and clutching, pushing against her own fingers and twisting her hips to milk the waves of pleasure and sweetness until there was nothing left except the feel of her tight opening clasping her cramped fingers and the wicked wetness all over her hands, her sex and her bottom.

She hadn’t noticed that she made a spectacle of herself, but the attendant appeared at her side just as she relaxed and fell back against her seat. With a knowing and sly smile, she passed a mortified Diana, a fresh box of Kleenex.

xxxxx Jacqui

Feedback to the Author