The Visit, Part I - Anticipation and the Power of
Imagination
A Ms. Neb Story
mr_neb@hotmail.com
I was so glad that the limo driver wasn't the talkative type. I much preferred to be
alone with my thoughts. I raised the privacy screen just in case. My excitement had been
building to this feverish pitch for the past four days when Bob first called. His wife
Linda was my best friend. We hadn't seen each other for three years, every since they
moved back east from California. I loved them and missed them both terribly. Bob called to
invite me to spend a week with the two of them and offered to provide the plane tickets,
the limo, everything. It was first class all the way. I was to be a birthday surprise for
his wife.
Before Bob and Linda moved away, and before my husband's unexpected death, the four of us
were the closest any couple could be. We enjoyed each other's company no matter what we
were doing. It could be a simple evening at home playing cards, a day at the beach or a
formal event at the Country Club. We were extremely close but never crossed that line
where our relationship became sexual. Oh, we exchanged the usual flirting and risqué joke
and things usually intensified in proportion to the alcohol consumed but that is a far as
we ever went. But I must admit, my private fantasies were very strong and vivid. I never
confessed to anyone, not even Jeff, that I wish we had all shared a sexual relationship. I
guess I never wanted to risk ruining the entire relationship on my fantasies if the others
didn't feel as I did.
Ever since Jeff's passing a year and a half ago, I changed emotionally. It took some time
but I guess I grew into a much more confident and self assured person. I was much more in
control. I guess I also became more philosophical. I am much more inclined to speak my
mind and enjoy life to the fullest that I was back then.
On this crisp, cold winter's day, riding though the beautiful rolling hills of the eastern
countryside, knowing that I was on my way to see my two closest friends in the world, I
was fully aware that I was now much more likely act on my inner desires. As we got to
within a half an hour of Bob and Linda's country home, I let my fantasies loose. They were
strong vivid sexual incarnations, complete with virtual sounds, textures and smells. My
mind had little trouble with recalling these sensations despite the fact that it was over
18 months since I had anything more than my memories to comfort me.
The crystal clear mental enactments that I was now enjoying had very real physical
effects. I could feel a queasiness form in my stomach. A familiar warmth and wetness
started to build between my legs. My sexual eagerness was being comforted by the discrete
caresses of my fingers. Much more would be required. I re-checked the control for the
privacy screen. I slowly slid my long skirt up over my knees and high up on my thighs.
There was now no need for it to provide any warmth. I lifted up my left leg and placed my
foot on the counter of the limo's bar. Even to me, my leg looked enticingly sexy, being
unconventionally separated from the other one and covered from mid-calf on down in a black
leather boot.
My hand now had unencumbered access to the source of my passion. I made no pretense about
my touches now. I wanted to feel my body rack uncontrollable in the throws of a deep
orgasm. My hand vigorously rubbed the outside of my wet panties in long firm strokes. My
right leg now mirrored the left. One foot now rested on each extreme of the limo's width.
My breathing became deep and erratic. My hand rubbed faster and harder. My other hand
firmly massaged my aching breasts through the material of my over coat. My eyes were
closed and my head swayed from side to side causing my long hair to streak about my face.
It was deep penetration I now craved and so I provided it. I squeezed my breast and
simultaneously pressed two fingers deep into my pussy. I gasped with the sensation of
fulfillment. I fabricated the concept of a cock now performing its magic deep inside me. I
fabricated the weight of a man pressing down on me as he thrust in and out of my willing
body, rubbing his pubic bone hard against my protruding clitoris. I silently screamed with
passion, encouraging him to please me, to use my body to please himself, to bring me to
climax, to make me come, to come in me. My hand stopped at the very instant of my orgasm,
fingers pressed in as far as they would go. My chest heaved wildly, seemingly trying to
inhale and exhale at the same time. My fingers felt my internal muscular twitches and
convulsions and the wet sputterings of my pussy. I quaked in the aftermath of my orgasm
with my eyes shut tight and my fingers pressed deep inside me, my hand wet and slippery
between my legs.
It took several moments before I regained my composure. It took several more before I
removed my wet hand from between my legs. The scent of my sex was already evident but as I
brought my hand closer to my face, it grew with delightful intensity. I kissed them and
licked my fingers in reward for a surrogate job well done but I wished I licking, tasting
and looking at an engorged cock shimmering with my cum. Such was the power and intensity
of my desires and imagination.