YOU STARTED THE evening with a few cocktails, and you were feeling a little high. You had deliberately wandered into this strange, rough neighborhood seeking some kicks. Why you were there was a long story.
For as long as you were aware of sex, you had always had one recurrent fantasy: to enter into a place where no one knew you and to do brazen things you’d never dare to do in your “real life.” It was a sort of Jekyll and Hyde fantasy, for in reality you were very shy and inhibited—a far cry from the domineering woman of your daydream. For a long time you didn’t really believe you’d ever do it, but the fantasy had become more and more real and compelling. Lately it had become almost an obsession. Early this evening you decided to act it out so that it would stop plaguing your imagination all the time. In a few brave minutes you had choreographed the whole thing—and this was your bravest hour. If nothing else, just the fact that you had courage enough to try something this daring pleased you.
Now you were right in the midst of the action. You had dressed provocatively in a very tight, sexy dress with the highest-heeled shoes you owned. You had doused yourself with lots of perfume that had a particularly tantalizing name. None of it was wasted as you walked into the bar.
When you entered, most of the conversational murmur stopped and eyes turned in your direction. The hostility almost drowned you. You were an intruder in this world. But it never occurred to you to do an about face and leave. You just stuck your chin out arrogantly, walked over to the bar, and asked if they served Amaretto.
As the bartender poured, you felt eyes appraising your body. You were confident that you were being given high grades. You were quite tall and very slender. As slim as you were, though, your ass jutted out at a fetching angle and now was pressed hard against the tight fabric of your satin dress. Your legs were great; long and firm, curving just right, down to your slim ankles. None of it was missed by the crowd. You turned as you sipped your drink, letting them have the front view—small firm breasts which didn’t need a bra to hold them high, a tiny waist, and a very attractive face with large blue eyes. Your hair was long and brown and practically reached your waist. You felt the few women in the place staring at you with hostility, but the men watched lustfully.
The crowd seemed to be waiting for a signal to resume their activity when suddenly one man stepped forward.
“What you want here?” he asked. “You no hooker. You belong downtown.”
“I belong where I decide to go,” you countered.
“Well,” he asked, “you think you belong here?”
“Of course I came to sample some black cock!”
Someone at the end of the bar uttered a nervous laugh and someone else echoed it. You began to feel a little dizzy over your own brazenness. Perhaps your situation was more dangerous than you were aware of....
“How about me?” the man asked with a leer, breaking the tension.
“You’ll have to let me decide after I take a look.”
Without hesitation—before the entire bar—he unzipped his fly and held out his enormous cock, which was already on its way to stiffness.
You examined it coolly and said, “Come closer.”
He took a step forward.
“Not bad,” you said. “Get it really hard.”
“How about you doing that?” he suggested.
“I’ll give the orders,” you said firmly. When there was no response, you told the rest of the people to make a circle around one of the tables. They got right into it, and before long a stage was set.
“I’ll undress you,” you said, and you led him to the center of the circle. First you removed his shirt revealing his muscular chest. You stroked him, his arms, his back, his chest—not caressingly, but appraisingly. He stood flattered but confused. It was obvious that he usually made the demands.
You finished undoing his pants and took them off. Soon he was totally nude—except for his undershirt. His huge cock was standing up at five past six.
“Undress me,” you demanded, “but touch only the clothes.”
He followed your instructions precisely. In short order you were standing there naked except for your black stockings, black lace garter belt, and high, high heels.
As you lay down on the table, you ordered, “Move your ass over here and lick my nipples!” He was more than eager to please and took each nipple, and then each breast, into his mouth which seemed to swallow you up. He did his job well for soon you felt your cunt lubricate, and your body was getting increasingly sensitive to his touch.
“Now go down on me and start jerking yourself off.”
He quickly got between your legs and lapped away until you were at the verge of coming. At the same time he pulled mercilessly at his rod.
“Stop!” you demanded and he immediately withdrew his tongue.
“Now shove that black cock into me!”
His firm stick was waving slightly over you as you opened your legs wide. He first put the head in, very gently as if he didn’t want to hurt you—your slit seemed so small. But that wasn’t what you wanted.
“All of it—and fast,” you yelled.
With one movement, he pushed his entire length into you. It was thick. You felt as if it would go straight through you. This was what you had fantasized about over and over, and now it was a delicious reality.
“Fuck me!” you pleaded. There was no holding him back now. His cock was like a piston as it moved around in you. You raised your legs and wrapped them around his waist, virtually becoming part of his body. The hands of some of the spectators were caressing your ass but you didn’t object. You were on display and you loved it.
You heard his breathing getting louder, but you didn’t want him to come—not just yet, not until you did—so you told him firmly to slow down.
Then you closed your eyes and concentrated... as if standing outside of yourself, you could see what the crowd saw: two total strangers fucking for this audience.
You loved the fucking, but you didn’t ever reach orgasm that way. So as he screwed you, you began rhythmically fingering your clitoris as only you knew how to do. You couldn’t care less if he might be put off. But as you opened your eyes a bit you saw he was fascinated by this. That excited you even more and as he moved his cock in and out of you, your fingers quickened and you knew it would be only moments before you came.
He continued to thrust, and you felt your self-getting closer and closer until you were coming and your rhythm quickened.
“Now!” you said loudly and he immediately moved faster. This time he grunted and groaned as he moved and you felt him shoot into you. Your body shook beneath him as wave after wave of your orgasm washed over you.
Then he lay still atop you and you felt other hands pulling at your tits. After a while he pulled out. You stared in admiration at his limp cock as he sank into a nearby stool and reached for his pants.
As he sat there you stood up and looked around. You put on your dress swiftly, adjusted your hair and makeup. With a slight smile in his direction, and then at the others, you walked directly to the door, and out to the street, never turning back for a second glance.
Since To Turn You On was written by a woman for women, it was not designed to please males. A few did have a chance to read the original script. If they objected to anything, invariably it was to the story you’ve just shared. They were offended. They were angered. They were indignant. “No woman could have such a fantasy,” was their theme. If only for that reason, I marked it a “must include.” Men have been dictating women’s fantasies far too long!