This is fantasy and adult oriented material.
The day began like most days for Megan Miller. The alarm sounded at 6:13 a.m. , and she slapped the snooze button for an extra five minutes sleep. Sleep was precious and she hadn't been getting much of it since he left.
He was Bobby Miller, a successful businessman of 45, with a trim body, a mane of dark hair, and a smile that had all the girls in the office weak in the knees. In fact, Bobby was a lot of things. Brainy, articulate, arrogant, controlling, manipulative, and Megan's ex-husband.
The divorce papers floated to the kitchen floor, right after he'd signed them.
"Fuck you! Take everything!"
Megan did just that.
After crawling out of bed, she carefully pulled the covers up, fluffed up the pillows and slipped on her robe. She went to the bathroom, used the toilet, brushed her teeth, then ran a brush over her fluffy blond hair. Next she went in the kitchen and poured her coffee from the automatic coffee pot that came on daily at 6:00 a.m. A splash of cream and one sugar later, she would be on her terrace enjoying her coffee and morning cigarette.
The house was quiet in the mornings. Mitch, her oldest joined the military. The baby, Denny was in college in Florida. Bobby had taken a rented condo close to Miller Industries, the family business he started when he and Megan married over twenty years ago.
She sat on the terrace and watched as other men walked to their cars with their wives hanging on their arms and remembered when that used to be her and Bobby. Smoke drifted from her lips as she tried to figure out what went wrong and more precisely, when it went wrong.
Bobby was a good looking guy, a very good looking guy, and everyone told her that it takes a special kind of woman to handle men like him. Actually, she found handling him wasn't nearly as hard as handing the women that seemed to come onto him everywhere they went.
It really wasn't Bobby's fault. He wasn't a flirt; he was just that good looking, and good looking men with charisma tend to get hit on by women regardless of their age. Hell, even Megan's own mother flirted with him right in front of her. Then there were the neighbors that stood by their fences and watched him mow the front lawn on Saturday mornings.
She had no real proof that he was fucking around, but she had plenty of suspicions. What kind of man goes to work wearing underwear and come home without them? His once very witty ring tone was set to vibrate. The scent on his dress shirts was suspiciously the same as his very young, very hot secretary, Carla Case. Carla had the brains of a gnat, but the body of a porn star. The watermelon lip gloss on his collars? Carla's.
Then there were the times he drove the baby sitter home. It shouldn't take an hour to deliver an18 year old to her home a few blocks away. She'd seen his Porsche in front of her mother's many afternoons over the years. And her mother was no slouch, either. A sixty something with the body of a thirty something. Even the clothes she wore were provocative. And older women tend to favor lipstick. Not Fay Smith. Her full lips dripped with purple lip gloss. And she liked to be called, 'Smitty'.
Then there were the clerks, waitresses, cashiers, even the preachers wife gave him too much attention. The preachers daughter could be added to the list, too.
To make matters worse, every time she confronted him, he would simply give her the most engaging smile, "Oh, babe. It's all in your head," then stroll away shaking his head.
It was just too much.
So, after twenty years of marriage, and with the boys away, she decided to make a new life for herself. Step one was to dump Bobby in hopes of finding a more suitable companion. Preferably one that wasn't such a player and one that could satisfy her kinky cravings...and make no mistake,Megan had kinks.
Step two was to work on her 'to do' list.
She took a last sip of her coffee, put out her cigarette and went back inside. The busty blonde walked to the family room, sat at her desk and started making notes. The first thing she considered were the available men. The Miller's were affluent and had access to the country club set, and were often in the society pages, so finding someone with dough shouldn't have been a problem.
She grabbed the directory for the country club and slowly ran her finger down the list of names. Sadly, there were no suitable candidates. They were either old or married. She wasn't going to be a home-wrecker and she didn't need some pissed off wife chasing her down at gunpoint. She also knew she didn't need some old guy dying on top of her.
It was then she decided to look elsewhere.
The Miller's lived in Laguna Beach, California. Laguna was a very trendy community that was made up of dozens of art studios and high end shops that sold everything from jewelry to furniture.
Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Vera Wang, and IKEA had set up shop along main street.
It was a community that rivaled Malibu and even attracted movie stars, record producers, and television personalities.
And it had a beach. A rather large beach. Pristine white sand for over a mile. Beautiful turquoise water with small shore breaks. And men.
Ahh. Men.
Megan lit a fresh cigarette, loosened the sash on her robe and began teasing her nipples as she smoked. Her eyes closed as she took herself to the beach. She twirled her puffy nipples between her thumb and forefinger making them erect in seconds. Then she ran her right hand down her flat tummy and rested it on her pubic mound. A long drag on her cigarette filled her lungs as she rubbed her warm slit with her middle finger. Smoke poured from her nostrils when she slipped her finger inside.
In her mind, she was surrendering herself to some handsome stranger on the beach. That was on her bucket list. To fuck a complete stranger anywhere had been on her mind for years. No talking. No mindless chatter. Just a few minutes of foreplay then some serious fucking.
Megan double dragged on her Marlboro then put it in the ashtray. She needed both hands. One to rub her rapidly swelling clit, the other to pump a couple of fingers inside her wet pussy.
She imagined herself in the mens restroom at the beach. One with damp concrete floors and girls phone numbers etched on the walls. She knew it was kinky, but the smell of mens urine excited her. She had asked her husband to take her in there and fuck her, then maybe relieve himself on her tits, but he just laughed.
But, today there would be no refusal. That's the beauty of fantasies. Anything is possible. In her mind, she saw a man. A very young man. Tanned, sculpted, and sporting a big cock. He had kissed her so hard she tasted blood. Then he fucked her mouth and shot his big hot load down her throat.
In seconds, her legs quivered, her breathing became erratic, and her mouth fell open with a long gasp. Her pussy gushed like a fire hydrant. Her tits were sweaty and her nipples tingled.
Again, she squirted, "Oh fuck!" then gasped uncontrollably. The climax shook her to the core and she didn't even have the strength to hold her head up. It simply fell to her tits. She was panting like a tiger and still shaking when she heard something stirring outside.
She glanced up and saw 16 year old Timmy Davis out on her patio peering in and jerking off. Timmy was one of the neighborhood kids and she had always admired his taut young body. He was a gymnast and she had always wondered what his cock looked like under those tight spandex leotards.
Now, she knew.
Timmy was sorta crouched over and jerking hard and fast. Megan didn't want him to cum. Not yet. She motioned for him to come inside. He stood and looked around then pointed at himself. She nodded then yelled, "Yes! Hurry!"
He slid the patio door open and ran to her with his deflating cock in his hand.
"Gosh, Mrs. Carter. I'm...I'm..."
"Shut up, Timmy. I got this."
She grabbed his heavy cock and stroked it back to life as he leaned over and kissed her. It was the kiss she had longed for. She tasted blood. That inspired her to kiss him even harder. The thought that Timmy was her youngest son's friend had her pussy twitching. She pulled from the kiss and stared at his bloody lips.
"Dear God, Timmy. That was some fucking kiss! Wanna fuck me?" She got on her desk and opened her legs.
He stepped inside her knees, "Oh, yeah. More than you know!" then rammed his thick cock in her hot pussy.
"Oh, God!" she screamed as she hooked her arms around his neck and went right back to his glorious bloody lips. She licked them as he pumped his cock in and out. Stamina wasn't his strong suit and he shot his load in seconds.
Megan wasn't even close, but felt she had to at least pretend he was a good lover.
"Mmm. That was so sweet, honey. Now, let me clean you up."
She dropped from the desk and got on her knees. She took his big cock in her mouth and sucked the rest of his sweet cum from his deflating dick. After swallowing, she licked it and kissed it.
He caressed her face, "Gosh, Mrs. Carter. I had no idea...well, I always thought you were hot, but..." then stepped back, tucked his limp dick away, zipped up his jeans and scampered out.
Megan looked at the pink stained cigarette in the ashtray. It was still alive. She shook her head as she lifted it to her pink lips and sucked on it.
Okay. Young guys were not going to cut it. No skills and no stamina. The blood thing was cool, but even that scared Timmy. It occurred to her that she was too much woman for teenagers.
She finished her cigarette and went in and showered. Naturally, she had a very consistent relationship with her shower head. It never failed her. She tasted his cum and blood as she held the fine spray on her clit and came hard.
Then laughed and came, again.
Megan's search for Mr. Right lasted weeks. She tried everything. At one point, she even went with a so called Dom to experiment with her BDSM fantasies. Not so much. The guy actually worked at Dunkin Donuts so that fucked up her fantasy of some dark, noble knight teaching her the ins and outs of a life of submission. Ropes and whips just didn't crank her up. It reads better then it actually was...at least for her.
She tried swinging. Multiple partners. Double penetration was kinda cool, but there was no emotion. She needed that connection. If not love, at least something close.
Craigs list didn't help, either. Nor did Adult Friend Finders, Zoosk, not even Matchmakers could help.
The guy from Adult Friend Finders did pee on her tits, but he was an idiot and a lousy fuck. And the guy from Matchmakers? No pee, no blood, no passion. It was missionary only and he wanted to dominate her. Fuck that.
Then she met Rita.
Megan had never been with a female before. Oh, she did some light kissing and groping with some of her friends in college, but never went all the way. She did enjoy kissing girls with glossy lips and the taste of the mix of lip gloss always made her wet. The right girl and right situation had just never come along.
But, this Rita chick? Hmm.
Rita was a cocktail waitress at the Royal Archer on Pacific Coast Highway. The Royal Archer was one of Megan's favorite bars. It was a classy joint. Lots of brass and glass gave the place the touch of ambience that Megan liked. A bit dark, but always lively.
Rita seemed to be everyone's favorite. She had flaming red hair, delicate features, and lips to die for. Full, pouty and shimmered under the soft lights as her lip gloss made her mouth look wet. She was much younger than Megan and a lot smaller. But, she had a body right out of Playboy. Her curves were perfect and in all the right places. And her ass? Spectacular. Rita had a very robust bottom just below her slightly bowed back.
Megan often wondered if the young girl was bisexual, but never pushed it. So like all things in life, their hooking up was left to destiny.
Destiny has it's own clock and seldom waits.
It was closing time and Rita's car wouldn't start. Megan's car was parked nearby and she simply asked, "Need some help, hon?"
"Boy, do I !"
The next thing she knew, her and young Rita were kissing hard and fast next to Megan's Mercedes. The kissing was intense. The moans and groans were drowned out by the crashing waves across the street. Soon, they were in the backseat scissoring with their legs open and their wet pussies slamming together. They came hard and together.
Megan took Rita home and walked her to the door. They were in the middle of a very sweet kiss when the door opened.
"Oh, sorry. I was just running to the liquor store. Would you ladies like anything special?" The handsome stranger asked as he held the door open.
Megan stared at the man. Clearly, he was older than Rita. Her father maybe?
Rita replied, "Yes, sugar. Grab some Tequila and margarita mix. I think it's party time. Look what I brought you!" then pointed at Megan.
Megan's pussy twitched rapidly. This guy was a hunk. And she already knew that Rita was a firecracker.
"Hmm. What's your name pretty lady?" The handsome hunk asked as he took her hand in his with a sexy grin.
Megan was speechless. Her pussy was going crazy. Her nipples were screaming. Her mouth was dry and she couldn't breathe. She managed to get out, "Mmm..Meg...Megan Mill...er. You are?"
He smiled and she was certain his teeth sparkled in the moonlight.
"I'm Atticus. Rita's boyfriend...sorta."
Megan felt her pussy dripping in her silk panties when he told her his name and squeezed her small hand.
"Atticus? To Kill A Mocking Bird. That Atticus?"
Atticus smiled, "That's right. The author Harper Lee is a family friend, and yep...I'm a lawyer."
Rita spoke up, "Honey...why don't you take Megan to the liquor store with you. I need to freshen up and I do want you guys to get better acquainted," then winked.
"Sure. Great idea. We'll be back soon." Atticus grinned.
"Not too soon. I need some time to get things just right."
Megan was dizzy with excitement. A ffm threesome was on her bucket list, and she couldn't have imagined one with a couple like the stunning Rita and a dreamboat like Atticus.
He stepped out and took Megan's hand and led her to his silver BMW convertible.
After opening her door, he retracted the roof and it disappeared into the trunk.
"Nice." Megan said as she slipped in on the dove gray leather seat.
He touched her face, "Yes, it is nice. It's a full moon. Let's make the most of it."
Atticus walked around the front of the car and her eyes never left his. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, Megan Carter had stumbled upon it three blocks from her home.
She knew she was in trouble.
After getting in, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her softly a few times. She loved the feeling of his warm breath on her upper lips and the way her glossy lips stuck to his when they pulled slowly from the kiss.
"I figured we might as well get that first kiss out of the way. No sense wondering about it. Don't you agree?"
Megan said breathlessly, "Mhmm."
Atticus backed out and sped away. Her blond hair blew across her face. She had never liked convertibles and hated having her hair flying everywhere. But, not tonight. Tonight was so much different. And this Atticus character? Where in the fuck did he come from?
It didn't matter. She was on a slippery slope and falling quickly.
She glanced down and noticed she had her hand on his leg. When did that happen? And when had he put his arm over the back of her seat? And how long had he been caressing the nape of her neck under her hair?
She said, "Atticus?" then moved her hand to his crotch.
"Hmm?" He replied.
She cupped his crotch and tugged on it. It felt big and heavy.
"If you don't fuck me in the next two minutes, I think I will surely die!"
He grinned and squeezed her neck.
"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" then pulled off onto the sand and parked between a pair of swaying palms.
"How's this doll?"
Did he just call her doll? Her cunt quivered at the thought of being his fuck doll.
"Perfect." She answered as she slipped her wet panties off.
He un-zipped his expensive slacks and pulled his growing cock out. The head glistened in the moonlight. She stared at it and gulped.
"That's the most beautiful cock I've ever seen." She bent over and licked it like a lollipop. It was long and thick and very stiff. She marveled that it not only tasted like no cock she'd ever had before, but she didn't have to bend over much to taste it. Soon, she was nursing the head between her lips.
He stopped her. "Do you smoke?"
She lifted her head slightly, still clutching his cock and answered, "What?"
"Do you smoke? And if you don't, do you mind if I do?"
She licked his cock head and replied, "Yes, I smoke and no, I don't mind if you do. My goal right now it to please you."
He lit a cigarette and said, "That's cool, but why?"
She took the cigarette from his lips and dragged on it, "I have no fucking idea. All I know is that making you happy suddenly seems very important to me," then took his cock back inside her now very smoky mouth. Smoke poured from her lips as his cock filled her mouth.
He took the cigarette from her fingers and watched her head bob up and down. The sights and sounds...even the smell had them both very hot. And they were about to get hotter.
She was deep throating him when she tasted blood. She knew his big rim had scraped when it popped down her throat. That's when she knew it was going to be a very interesting night.
He leaned back and rested one hand on her head, riding it up and down as he smoked her pink stained cigarette. The taste of her lip gloss mixed with the smoke had him ready to pop. She felt his cock swelling and looked him in the eyes and nodded.
He arched his back and raised his hips, "Agghhhhh!" then shot streams of cum down her throat. Her pussy gushed. Her knees shook. In fact, she shook everywhere. So did Atticus.
She raised up from his cock and swallowed. He noticed her mouth looked bloody.
With his mouth full of smoke, he said, "You're bleeding, doll." Clearly, he'd fucked her mouth too hard.
She grinned and felt the blood seeping from her lips.
"Yeah, I am. And I like it."
He winked, "Me, too!" then licked her bloody lips and kissed her hard. She knew he was swallowing his cum, her blood, their saliva and the warm smoke. She was in Heaven.
With their mouths locked tight, their tongues exploring, he lifted her and slipped outside. He sat her on the hood of his gleaming BMW and she knew she was about to be fucked by the man of her dreams. Not a total stranger, but close enough.
She hiked up her dress, wrapped his ass with her ankles and pulled him close. He nudged his cock to her wet pussy and pushed. The smoky kiss lingered as they caught each other's rhythm.
"Fuck me hard, baby! Hurt me!"
Atticus tossed the cigarette on the sand and began fucking her hard. Her tits bounced and her breathing became ragged.
"Harder! Hurt me!"
She heard her ass squeaking on the car's warm hood as he wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed.
She felt his cock swelling, his balls slapping her ass, and her pussy clamping tighter and tighter.
"Cum in me!" she coughed as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body.
He held her ass with his other hand and rammed his spurting cock to her core. She quivered and sobbed as this almost stranger filled her hungry cunt with sticky cream.
"Oh, God. Oh, God..." she whimpered over and over.
His cock stayed deep in her for a few minutes while they cooled down with soft kisses.
"You are some kind of woman Mrs. Miller."
She gulped, "It's Miss. And thank you Mr....what is your last name?"
"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said it was Finch?" he answered with a grin as he withdrew his cock.
She laughed, "Baby, if you say you're Atticus Finch, I will believe you. I will always believe you."
He touched her face, "Why? Maybe I'm just a guy that likes fucking good looking women and will say whatever I think they want to hear as long as I get what I want."
"I know better. I'm sure you get all the women you want without playing games. Besides, I know you Mr. Finch. Even though we just met. I know you."
He ran his fingers through her long blond hair, "Do you?" then kissed her softly.
She pulled from the kiss slowly, "Yep. I sure do. Want me to prove it?"
"Just how do you plan on proving an abstract thought like that. You have no idea who I am or what I'm capable of."
"Oh, but I do. Blood didn't bother you and neither did choking me. And I know right now, you have to pee, and you'd like to pee in front of me...or perhaps on me?"
"Oh, really? Interesting. Actually, I do have to pee. Not so sure about peeing on you though. That dress looks expensive."
"It is. But, I'll either take it off or you can just let me drink for your cock. How's that?"
"I'd say you're a woman of few boundaries."
She slipped down to her knees, lifted his cock and slipped it in her mouth. She wrapped her pink glossy lips around the head tightly and sucked gently. And Atticus pee'd. She moaned as she stared in his eyes and gulped it down like vintage wine.
After drinking every drop, she stood and kissed him. She wanted to see if he objected to kissing her after pissing in her mouth. He didn't.
When the wet, very sloppy kiss broke free, Megan said, "Nice to see you don't have many boundaries, either."
He answered, "My boundaries are only limited by my imagination. And I have quite an imagination. Shall we go?"
She fixed her dress and answered, "Yes. I suppose we should get to that liquor store and then get back to Rita."
Atticus grinned, "Honey. It's 4 a.m. The liquor store has been closed for hours and Rita knows that. I assure you she's fast asleep by now."
The dream of her first ffm threesome was gone. But, surprisingly, she didn't care.
She had found someone very special. His name was Atticus Finch. And she loved him.
They drove to his place. A very cozy cottage up the coast. There they made love.
Then they committed themselves to each other. Their fantasies matched. All the boxes were checked. They each had history. But, they vowed to leave the baggage outside.
Rita married her aerobics teacher. Timmy Davis is now Reverend Davis and married to Carla Case, the little airhead that was Bobby Miller's secretary. Megan's mom 'Smitty' married her fifth husband. Dunkin Donuts lost a fake dom.
But, Megan Miller knew exactly what kind of man she wanted and was determined to find him. It wasn't just hot kinky sex she longed for. She wanted to be loved. To be someone's priority. She simply wouldn't settle for less.
Atticus and Megan committed themselves to each other, although they each had history.
But, they vowed to leave the baggage outside.
Their fantasies matched. All the boxes were checked.
The last word on them from a very reliable source was that they were living the good life on Maui. No word on how much kinkier their life became, but a good guess would be they are still exploring their fantasies.
Picture plenty of golden showers, lots of blood, ice cubes and hot candle wax...maybe even some scarves or ropes. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Sensory depravation?
The possibilities are endless when we open our minds and hearts.
Just ask Megan Miller...or is it Finch now?
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