The Ghost of Timor -Ch.12 – Fantasies

Forward troubles Illinois, lock the front door, oh boy
Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn
Bother me tomorrow, today I’ll buy no sorrows
Doot, doot, doo, looking out my back door.”

Creedence Clearwater Revival

Alison had been lying her bed when she fired up her iPad for the fourth time. She had only just begun to admit to herself that she might have a problem. Logging on to a mobile device was never something that she’d had to worry about when she was growing up. They didn’t exist in the 1990s. If she wanted to contact someone, she would call them on a land line-a phone-and talk. If they weren’t home she’d have to call back or leave a message.

In the absence of a phone, she’d write. Writing was harder but her message would be more permanent. And it was one way. She would be in control of the conversation so the tone would be whatever she wanted it to be. It might take weeks or months to get a reply and by then she may have moved on.

The final method was to talk. Get up off her ass and visit someone. Or to wait till she next saw them to deliver her message. It had worked for the last ten thousand years of human civilization and she hadn’t thought that would ever change.

But things did start to change dramatically from the 2000s with the arrival of texting and mobile phones. Chat channels and then social media got husbanded to mobile devices and that changed everything. People everywhere these days had their heads down looking at their phones. It was anti-social, and it was beginning to cause chronic illness.

She had tried to resist, for her children’s sake, but it was a losing battle. But it wasn’t until she admitted that she had a second problem that she realised she had the first.

Her second problem was porn. Not images and videos. No Alison didn’t watch porn, she read it, like a lady. She couldn’t quite remember when she had first come across a story or a site that had aroused her, but it was only fairly recently; since the pandemic she thought. Since her separation.

No, that was wrong. It was before. She had definitely been reading since 2020 but she admitted now that she had started before then. She had started as a way of relieving the pain of her last problem. Her marriage or, to be more accurate, her failing marriage.

She’d been enamoured with him when she’d met him ten years earlier. He seemed to tick all her boxes. An Olympic athlete who, like her, loved skiing and was there, in her small town. It was like the stars had aligned just for her by magic. It is what she had saved herself for all these years and now that her career had taken off, she was finally ready to commit.

But something went astray somewhere after they got married and now, they were separated. The confinement of lockdowns had forced them to spend more time together and they had realised that they no longer wanted to. They hadn’t wanted to for years.

Her erotica addiction had started before they had put their cards on the table and that now she was separated it had been her only sexual outlet. Alone with her iPad, in bed, after a nice warm shower, dressed only in her robe. It was her version of date night.

She had explored various types of erotica to see what tickled her fancy, but she had to admit that the idea that got her really excited was public nudity. Not flashing or streaking, that implied planning and control. No, Alison liked her protagonist to be locked out of their house, by accident, without a stitch of clothing.

Maybe it was the loss of control that tickled her in the right way. Being a woman who was so orderly and organised -intense, her husband put it- the idea of being naked, vulnerable and desperate was so not her that she couldn’t get enough of it. She liked her stories to be well written and believable, but she had even managed to get aroused recently by some unbelievable smut. The type of story where the protagonist loses a bet and has to do the shopping naked yet never gets arrested. It was so unreal and yet sometimes it worked, for her.

But her arousal in public nudity hadn’t come out of the blue entirely. Twenty-five years ago, she had attempted to get off by stripping naked and masturbating in the men’s showers while she was away on an Army Reserve camp. She had thought that she would be alone but shortly after she came, she found that she had company. Trapped, naked in the men’s she had had to brazen her way past half a dozen teenagers before she could run out the door with her clothes in her arms and get dressed. But what if she hadn’t heard them and they had found her naked on the floor in the throes of ecstasy? What if they hadn’t let her leave the room so easily and surrounded her. What if, what if, what if?

In reality she knew that she would have been panicked, horrified, terrified. But now that the years had passed, and she had replayed that episode over in her mind many times and she wasn’t so sure. The idea of being naked in front of a dozen men and unable to hide well…that was just heaven!

Of course, it was all just fantasy, and that was the point. It was her fantasy, and she could replay it in her mind however she wanted. Sometimes they had stood there silently and watched her unbeknownst. Sometimes she had noticed them and carried on regardless with her audience of silent onlookers. Other times they had made her work for her clothes and her freedom. But the best of all was when she had escaped her situation, one way or another, but had had to leave her clothes behind, and make it back to her room, naked in broad daylight. That is when the real fun began.

Sometimes she would travel unseen, pausing mid-flight to relieve her arousal in different locations on her journey home. Sometimes she would be caught and exposed, having to talk or please her way out of each situation. Oddly, despite the number of times she had relived this fantasy, in all its variations, Alison never made it back to her room. In her dream she was always perpetually on the run, naked and vulnerable. Perpetually naked in her mind and while literally naked in her bed. Naked and masturbating again. If only someone would watch.

Alison had looked into other fetishes too, Japanese Shibari the one that intrigued her most. The idea of being tied up fit in with her desire to be vulnerable she supposed. At least that is what she thought it meant. She hadn’t been game enough to ask anyone and she didn’t think her secret obsession warranted visiting a therapist.

The other thing that she had learned that turned her on no end was simple how-to guides. Massages -god she missed massages-, positions, etc. Each time she read the “how-to-guide for whatever”, no matter how urbane, for some reason it was like the author was giving her permission to get off on her secret desires. It just turned her on. It had been her secret shame; getting off on reading about how to get off.

So, she had to smile to herself at the irony of her current situation. All those how to guides hadn’t just been a wank -so to speak- and been useful in the end. It was, after all, the first time she had put her finger up someone else’s bum.

As the guide had said, the first thing she needed to do was take a warm, relaxing shower or bath. Having been in the oversized double shower for the best part of twenty minutes they had definitely ticked that box. She’d also scored an orgasm out of it so she considered that double win.

After they had double teamed her to satisfaction she’d laid on the warm, wet tiles until she had recovered. She could see that Jeremy still had his erection but knew that the water would have washed away her wetness. She had thought momentarily about his accidental poke in her bum earlier and her anal experiment years ago and considered trying again. That had been when she was aroused and now that she had come back down to earth she wasn’t as excited about the prospect.

But then, as she recalled all the how-to guides she’d read on butt sex, another thought entered her mind. It didn’t have to be her.

So, finding whatever lube she could, shower gel in this case, she coated her fingers and drew herself up into range. She hit the tap to stop the water -lest she be drowned- and let him know what was about to happen. With some curiosity she noted that he didn’t protest or flinch. Jeremy had always been willing to experiment when they had been together but she had mostly been the beneficiary of his imagination.

“Interesting,” she thought to herself.

With him backed up against the shower wall and towel under her knees, Alison took Jeremy in her mouth as her lubed index finger began to test his ring. She had wanted to just plunge it in but remembered the guide’s advice and circled slowly at first. But she also knew that she didn’t have a whole day of training to get him ready and that this had be now. She noted that Jeremy was definitely getting harder and with a little trepidation, she pushed her finger in.

With a gasp and a flinch Alison broke into his ring. From her point of view all she could sense was a curious warmth on her finger and a pleasant tightening around it. But the effect on Jeremy was dramatic. Instinctively he drew upward and away from her intrusion. His cock stiffened and flexed and she felt him growing in her mouth. Jeremy gasped and began to swear. Not at her but at the sensation. When he reached the limit of his height he collapsed back down upon her her finger and then it started again.

“Fuckkkkkkkk!” Jeremy moaned.

Alison couldn’t but smirk at the effect she was having on him. “So gratifying to have turned the tables,” she thought. She let him out her mouth not only to breathe but to look upward at him and grin. Jeremy was in ecstasy and it was her doing. She was immediately envious of the current generation who had the technology and the stupidity to video their sexual exploits. This was one moment she wished that she had had the foresight to record for posterity.

She pushed harder into Jeremy’s bum, determined to maximise his satisfaction and hers. He twisted his head this way and that, seemingly trying to climb out of his own body yet stay in this moment.

“Arghhhhh!” His cries so loud that Alison began to worried that the next room might hear. “Fuck!”

As Jeremy closed his eyes and screamed toward the heavens, Alison raised herself up on her knees and poked out her tongue. Closing her eyes, she found the base of his cock and slowly licked all the way up as she pressed as hard as she could.

“Holy…….,” suddenly he was silent.

Warmth began to rain down on Alison’s face. She wondered if the shower had started dripping but the water felt…wrong. It wasn’t running away like normal. It was heavier, slower, thicker.

She waited until his rain had stopped until she ventured to slowly withdraw her finger. With her eyes shut she was back in darkness, reliant on sounds and movement to guide her. She could sense Jeremy slipping down the wall before her and resting. She smiled but dare not open her eyes lest they were stuck fast. Realizing that she had just lost control she waited for him to tell her that alright to open them.

“I wish I had a water proof camera,” he said.

Alison tentatively opened her eyes, hoping that they hadn’t been glued shut. Jeremy was crouched before her, back to the wall, exhausted yet grinning with satisfaction.

“What do you do for an encore?” he asked.

Alison thought about it for a few moments, then held up two fingers and smiled. “We could go again, but I doubt if you could handle it.”

“Oh Alison, my sweet summer child.” A smirk crossing Jeremy’s face. “Do you really think that was my first rodeo?”

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