I have had a thousand fantasies. With a thousand different women players. But all with a common thread and purpose. And during my years, the fantasy has been realized a few times. Had I played "my cards" right, I might have been with a woman who would have enjoyed my fantasies to this day. But, like so many of us, I didn't.
So, these days, I ponder my life and the lack of intimacy within it as I sit on my deck and enjoy the spring, and coming summer months. Not feeling sorry for myself, but doing some soul searching and re-evaluation. My fantasies are just that anymore. A pleasant memory, and some wishful thinking.
As I sit there one evening, the sun is just setting. The air is cool and dry, with a slight breeze through my tall pines in the back yard. I notice the light come on in one of my neighbors windows. It's my neighbors wife. She is an attractive woman, who takes care of herself. Tonight she is apparently home alone, as the driveway is empty. This is not unusual, as often the two children are with Grandma, and her husband is working.
Tonight she is apparently doing some laundry, and specifically some of her ironing. I smiled as I watched her bring in an armload of clothing and deposit it on her folding table next to her ironing board.
I felt a stirring in my nether regions as I watched her plug in her iron. I noted it was a full size, heavy looking model. I watched her fill the tank with water, and turn the temperature dial to (presumably) it's lowest setting. Then she began to go through the clothing. . .
She pulled several pieces of delicate looking items from the pile, and selecting a long dress, she lay it out on the ironing board. The dress was a brightly colored spring dress. It looked to be of silk, or a like material. Again, I had to smile to myself at the irony of this...
Once the iron had reached the temperature she desired, she lifted the heavy instrument, and placed it on the dress, beginning to smooth out the wrinkles in the soft fabric.
This seemingly innocent chore was wonderful to watch. I noted that I now had a full on erection. She had no idea that she was participating in something I found erotic.
She continued her ironing, until everything she had brought in was done, folded or hung on hangers. . .
As my deck was enclosed, and I was afforded some privacy and was alone myself this evening, I had begun to pleasure myself as I watched her ironing. Her movements were so fluid, and feminine, especially when she ironed her delicates. The material flowed and moved so softly and gracefully, and she seemed to enjoy that. She ironed them very slowly, and with great care.
Just as I thought the event was at an end, something odd happened. She had left the room with the finished ironing. But then I noticed her re-enter the room. She was carrying a long gown of some sort. It moved in her grasp as if it were silk, or silk-satin. It was a snow-white color, and adorned with lace at the neck, and the ends of the open sleeves.
She lay this beautiful gown out on the ironing board, and then just stood and looked down at it.
She then reached for the iron, and, picking it up, I saw her turn off the steam function. She turned the dial on the iron down. . . from it's last temperature. She then picked up the heavy appliance and lowered it to the silk of the gown, beginning to smooth out the wrinkles, the few that there were. This continued for several minutes, she ironing the silk, turning it on the board, moving the iron again, until the gown was perfect.
Again I was pleasuring myself, watching this scene unfold before me. How wonderful this was. . and she had no idea...
And then. . . .my eyes must have deceived me, as I saw her once again begin to iron her gown. I thought I saw her move the temperature dial UP a notch or two. . and she moved the iron across her gown.. and a strange, almost far-away look came across her face. Her free hand came up to her face and she had her pinky finger in the edge of her mouth, sort of resting on her lip... she kept moving the iron, from the bottom hem, to the soft lace at the neck, ever so slowly.
Again, her hand on the iron moved the dial..... UP again!
She never stopped moving the iron, as her free hand now moved down, to her crotch. She was wearing something soft, that she could easily move aside and touch herself...which she began to do.. .
I could not believe what I was seeing. She was beginning to masturbate while she ironed her silk gown. . and she was turning the iron up dangerously high. . .
AGAIN she turned up the dial. . . it appeared to be at its highest temperature now, as it would move no more. .. and she continued to move the now heating iron over the soft white silk. . .
I was about to climax. . . as I watched a smile spread across her face as a wisp of blue smoke began to issue from behind the iron. Still she moved the iron over her gown. More smoke rose from behind the now too hot iron, the silk beginning to burn beneath it. A look of rapture came across her face...as she began to climax herself... She stopped moving the iron and succumbed to the orgasm. . . . smoke rising from around the soleplate of the iron as the gown burned. . . I came myself, watching my fantasy come to life in front of my eyes. . .... and then, as she relaxed from the paroxysm of pleasure, I swear SHE LOOKED ACROSS OUR YARDS, RIGHT INTO MY EYES....her smile still on her face, as she lifted the hot iron from the burned mark deep in the silk.. more smoke rising from beneath it. . .
I blinked. Blinked again. It was dark. The neighbors house, was dark. The night was silent, save for the frogs and the bugs. I noted a half-moon between the trees that moved with the breeze.. I got up to clean up. . and get a double scotch.
If I'd only played my cards right. . .