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This is a question Faking it

Rakky writes, "We've all done it. From qualifications to orgasms, everyone likes to play 'let's pretend' once in a while."

So when have you faked it? Did you get away with it? Or were your mendacious ways exposed?

(, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 15:16)
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I paid the price...
“Hello, sweetie” he smiled, as I opened the front door. For a moment, he stood there, regarding me with a gleam in his eye before leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek.

“Do come in, dinner is fifteen minutes away”, I cooly motioned with a sideways nod of the head.

It had been a full seven days since we saw each other last. Seven days of typing, filing, answering telephones and associated drudgery, seven days of returning home to an empty house, seven evenings of half-heartedly prepared meals eaten alone, seven nights of having a double bed all to myself (which also included six phonecalls professing affection and of course the inevitable outcome after seven days of being apart, but that of course is another story).

He obediently followed me into the house, making some half-arsed chatter about what happened during his week at work. To be honest, I found myself nodding vaguely and half concentrating on snippets here and there as I poured a glass of wine into a champagne flute and handed it over to him.

In the dimmed light of the kitchen, I took a long look at him as I passed him the flute. He stood there in front of me, with blue eyes, dark unruly hair and a gleam in his eye that hinted very much that he appreciated the effort I’d gone to with my choice of eveningwear. I tip-toed up to him, looked up at those blue eyes and without averting my gaze, I picked the scarcely sipped glass from his hand and placed it on the worktop next to him.

He reached forward, very gentle and placed a hand on the back of my neck as his lips touched mine. Up until now, I’d coolly planned this in my head in minute detail during our six breathy phonecalls the previous week. However, I felt those meticulous preparations begin to slip from me as I returned his kiss with the palm of my hand pressed into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer and closer…

His had was round my waist. I could feel the urge rising in my chest as the front of my body felt the warmth of him through the thin material of my dress. My hands were roaming all over his face and neck as we kissed. I felt a strange sensation along my left side accompanied by a subdued “zzzzzzzip” shortly before one of his large hands found its way inside the material. I responded to the touch of his hand upon my flesh with a gentle gasp in his ear, to let him know that I approved of what he was doing.

Oh, now the cocky bastard was smiling… I could feel his cheeks tense and mouth sharpen as we kissed. I responded by reaching up and nibbling the lobe of his ear. Oh yes, the moment was building exactly as I’d wanted and exactly as he’d described it on the telephone. I was gently relieved of my burgundy dress, which fell to the floor like a discarded veil. With a swift motion, he spun round, picked me up and sat me on the kitchen worktop as I grasped his shirt buttons and ripped them open (actually, I say “ripped”… in truth no-one likes a shredded shirt. I should have said “undone with due reverential haste. Doesn’t quite work though does it?). His right hand unclipped my black lacy bra which was gently deposited next to my dress. His mouth was all over my neck and breasts, I could feel my heartbeat surge as I looked down upon his head, stroking his hair.

I didn’t care that the Venetian blind was still open and that my now naked back was silhouetted against the kitchen window for the neighbours to see. It was all about the moment, his mouth and me and the things he was doing to me. I lifted my bottom off the worktop as my pants were removed, I could smell the food beginning to burn slightly, but frankly did not care a damn unless the house burned down.

I undid the button and zip of his trousers, pulled him closer and soon had my legs wrapped tightly round his waist, being in complete control, juggling between passive response to him encouraging him further and a flex of thigh muscles to slow him down.

Far better to enjoy this to its full potential than let uncontrolled ardour render it all too brief. His hands were all over my body as his hips rocked back and forth, as my legs allowed him just enough momentum to quicken the pace slightly, but not enough to let him get too carried away. I continued to nibble his earlobe and run the nail of my index finger from the top of his neck and all the way down his spine, I felt his muscular back shiver under my touch. Oh yes! Oh yes!

As sex, this was exactly as billed, no broken promises or complaints to advertising standards here. Finally satisfied, we were panting like dogs, clinging to each other’s moist skin and struggling to form coherent sentences to one another.

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

“I love you…”

At that moment I looked inside my heart and beyond the physical gratification I actually felt very little.

I’m ashamed to say that I faked something far, far more significant than a mere orgasm....
(, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:04, 9 replies)
Have a click.
So beautifully written.
(, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:15, closed)
(, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:23, closed)
You sound like my kind of woman.

(, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:47, closed)
Very candid.

*Puts away the tissue's*

(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 0:00, closed)
says that during sex. It's a tradition or something. Or the hormones. About .001% of them actually mean it.
(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 3:41, closed)
^ true
But still very well written.
(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 3:53, closed)
I think I spunked. In my pants! Out of my knob!
(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 5:43, closed)


(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 7:16, closed)
I think you come...
...over to the 'Off Topic' thread.

There are lots of fluffeh peeps there who will love you lots.
(, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 14:14, closed)

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