The Black and the Fan

June 7, 2018 Thursday

From: Reggie
To: Sassy
Sent: Thu Jun 7, 2018 at 9:27 AM
Re: Sassy face

Good morning, sexy Sassy!

I loved your writing – do you write a lot of erotica? Yes, it gives a wonderful glimpse into your mind. I read it last night but I did not get the “opportunity” to respond.

1. Turn ons – I am not into BDSM and like you am closer to vanilla but not quite. I am crazy about oral sex, toys to pleasure her, her multiple-orgasms and sometimes sex outdoors.

2. Politically, well left of the Democratic Party.

3. At a reservoir in the middle of the night.

Cheers.

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From: Sassy

To: Reggie
Sent: Th Jun 7, 2018 at 1:47 PM
Subject: The Black

Hiya! Hope you’re having a terrific Thursday. You made my morning with your email. Here I am with some fun lunch tidbits.

Ah erotica. Glad you enjoyed that. I have written a lot… not just recently – I go through spurts. (ha ha… she said spurts!) There are snippets, short stories, and two “novelettes” no has read. Mostly “Mary Sues” (do you know that term?) or to give a man ideas, or a recurring fantasy, but they vary a lot. I don’t know where they come from – they pop into my head and I have to write them down so I can stop thinking about them all the time. Have you written any?

So happy that our activity expectations match up. It sucks when I discover a kink and I can’t help.

Do you have any toys? I have a small collection.

Definitely want to share sexy outdoor stories in person! I like to think about being outside with a nice man, and I have several favorite tumblrs of exhibitionists, but my “demure” side kicks in pretty harshly about actually doing it. But as my cemetery exploits prove, not always!

So relieved our politics are on the same side of the aisle!

1) Do you follow any sports? 
I am not a fanatic but I keep an eye on figure skating, the Red Sox and I’ll probably watch the Belmont Stakes horse racing on Saturday to see if we get a Triple Crown winner.

2) Do you have siblings?

I have two sisters – one 9 years older and one 9 years younger. They’re both in this area. The younger one is my best friend (mother of my adorable niece and fellow community project enthusiast). The older one is… a challenge. She wants to mother me and explain to me how things should be done. *sigh We meet for brunch every weekend with her beau.

3) Boxers or briefs? What color today? 
Mine are really boring light pink cotton briefs. But I have on a sassy black bra. I’m attaching my favorite photo of that. Enjoy!

-S

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From: Reggie

To: Sassy
Sent: Th Jun 7, 2018 at 2:59 PM
Re: The Black

Oh you tantalize me with that lovely black bra. Sassy. I saw your e-mail in the middle of a meeting and must confess to feeling more than a twinge in my loins! Thank you!

I would love to read more of your fantasy writing and yes, I did have to look up the term Mary Sue! It is interesting to think of you casually seeding a lover with ideas that are then improvised upon in reality.

1. Sports – Thanks to my kid, I end up following some professional sports although, increasingly, in this over-commercialized professional sport world (especially Premier League Soccer which we follow more than anything else), it feels too gladiatorial at times.

2. Siblings – I am an only child. I am accused by my wife of hence, being a little self-absorbed which I most definitely am not.

3. Boxer-briefs (you know what they are?). Today’s are a steel gray. In lieu of a pic of me in that (which at some point, I might be tempted to go the bathroom and shoot for you), here is another of me.

[photo of him in a mirror holding his phone and looking at it]
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From: Sassy
To: Reggie
Sent: Th Jun 7, 2018 at 5:11 PM

Re: The Black

Thanks for the photo! You tantalized me right back. Wow. You are a sexy dude! I so want to reach into that photo and explore. Mmm…

Sorry (#not sorry) if I disrupted your meeting.

I do know what boxer-briefs are. My favorite!

Gotta run.. will dig up more erotica to send later.

-S

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From: Sassy

To: Reggie
Sent: Th Jun 7, 2018 at 8:24 PM
Subject: The Fan

The Fan

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. His friend had talked
him into reading at Stone Soup Poets open mike. One of the
stories. It was for Valentine’s Day, and everyone was doing
it, but it still made him feel vulnerable and exposed. He
read and paused, as appreciative sighs filled the room, and
knew it would be alright. He noticed this woman, standing in
the back against the wall. Staring right at him. He felt like
he was reading to her, and that she felt it, too. He finished,
and a crowd gathered around him to chat and congratulate and
fawn and cluck. He searched the room for her, but she had gone.
He listened to the other artists awhile, but couldn’t get the
hazy image of the woman out of his mind. Finally, he slipped
out the side door and started toward the train. She spoke as
he passed, startling him.

“Your story was…special. It touched me.” She almost
whispered into the night air.
“Thank you,” he said, automatically. Brilliant. He tried
to make out her face in the dim light of the street lamp.
“It made me…want to know you,” she sighed, almost as if
she hadn’t wanted to admit it. He was sure his mouth hung open at
that point. He remembered himself in a few seconds, and decided to
be flip.
“So, what did you want to know?” He quipped, not really
expecting her to answer. She looked away, then surprised him.
“What it would be like to inspire you.” He gulped in air.
There didn’t seem to be enough air to fill his burning lungs. He
realized that somehow, in the last minute, something had passed
between them. It scared him, but drew him to her.
“Can I walk you to the train?” He asked her. She seemed
to consider it carefully, then stepped forward and took his arm in
silent acceptance. He felt her breast against his arm and wondered
if he could remember how to walk. He managed. He thought she would
ask him mundane questions, quiz him about his story or his life. She
was silent, seemingly deep in thought, walking in step with him.

He wanted to see her face, but she was beside him so he could
only take in her long hair, swinging around her, and how she seemed
just the right height to walk with him, and how her chest moved with
each step. They passed a pottery shop and she paused briefly to
glance at the brightly colored bowls. Suddenly, she yanked him into
the dark doorway, and pressed him against the stone of the building.
He felt the cold against his back, then the heat of her in front,
as she wiggled to fit her body to his. Then she put her lips within
a hair of his, and stopped. This seemed to be quite a distance for
her initiative to take her, but not quite there.

He cursed the lack of light. He couldn’t see her eyes. But
it didn’t seem to matter, he was taking her invitation and sinking
his tongue into her mouth before he realized he’d decided to do it.
He felt as hard as the stone against his back, and knew she felt it
too by the breath she took when he raised his head momentarily. She
worked her hand under his shirt, and put his hand on her breast.
They teased each other’s nipples, nipping at necks and ears and noses.
Smiling into each other’s mouths as their breathing raged out of
control.
This was crazy. He didn’t know this woman. He knew
nothing except she liked his writing, that she had understood
the call in it. And that she felt so right in his arms. It
was nuts, but it made sense to him. He’d find out the other
stuff later, if it became important. He was startled back to
the present by her hand at his belt. Oh, my god.
She stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and
whispered in his ear.
“I don’t…I mean, I haven’t…ever…without…” she
couldn’t seem to say it, but he knew she was trying to justify
this wildfire burning between two strangers in a dark doorway.
“I know,” he murmured, hugging her even closer. That
seemed to settle it. She undid his belt, and slipped her hand
inside his clothes to touch him. He thought he’d pass out.
She rubbed him just the right way for longer than he thought
he could endure. He knew he should be touching her, but could
not summon the brain power beyond savoring her touch. She
removed one hand to her pocket, he heard a rip, then she was
taking his sex from his pants, and covering it with latex,
and leading him to a ledge deeper in the doorway. She stretched
out on the stone, and pulled him down over her, into her. 
The combination of the time and place and strangeness and the latex
set him off almost immediately. He pounded her into the stone,
without thought of her soft body. She met his every thrust,
moaning in his ear. He felt the pulsing, the searing heat, and
filled the plastic, thinking of filling her. She clenched him
deep inside. His mind clung to every detail as he realized he
would desperately need to write about this later.

They clung to one another forever. Then sat close to
each other on the ledge as they righted their clothes. There
seemed to be so much to say, and yet nowhere to start. He
finally took her arm, and they continued toward the train. He
thought he should be panicking, but couldn’t get beyond the
amazing afterglow. When they reached the platform, he expected
her to disappear like the dream she seemed to him. She chewed
her lip. He feasted on seeing her in the light.

“I need to know more.” She whispered, a pleading look
on her face.
“Yes.” It was all he could say. It seemed enough.
“Take me home with you.”
“Yes.”
“Let me inspire you.”
He moaned and rolled his eyes. Then the train rumbled
into the station and they boarded locked arm in arm.

=====

From: Reggie

To: Sassy
Sent: Th Jun 7, 2018 at 11:27 PM
Re: The Fan

I loved the setting, the hungry desire in both of them. I loved the urgency in the doorway. I loved how they fuck without knowing each other’s names, without seeing each other’s faces. Your imagination is fertile and rich!

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Sassy Girl

It's the gal you knew in high school that you've wondered about. And she's got something to say! Time to heat up old flames!

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