Crystal dream




I have a crystal ball, about 3 inches in diameter.  Occasionally, I 
stare at it for hours, becoming lost with my lustful thoughts deep in 
the bubbly crystal core.  A few days ago, I was lying on the floor, on 
my stomach, with a pillow supporting my chest while I leaned on my 
elbows.  You walked in the room, wearing your work clothes.  I rolled 
over and tried to playfully sneak a peek up your skirt to see if your 
were wearing any panties, but the room was too dark and my eyes too 
weak. 

Fatigued, you staggered over and crashed down on the couch.  After 
getting up and returning with a nice steaming cup of peach-spice tea, I 
slid back down on the floor again.  You are stretched out on the couch, 
your legs extend away from the couch.  Your quads are striated and huge, 
calling for my surrender. 

I watch your sensual movements, your toes as they flexed inside your 
black stockings, your muscular thighs tense and dangerously hard ... 
your red-painted toe nails barely visible through the silk stockings ... 
all of these things aroused me intensely.  We talked about our days, and 
about other mundane things.  In the meantime, my hand was carelessly 
rolling the ball around on the floor. 

You slithered your leg over and wrested control of the crystal sphere 
from me with your foot.  I took this opportunity to sneak another 
glance, and this time I can see you are not wearing any underwear.  In 
my throat, the murmur of a growl wants to escape. 

As you drag the ball away from me, you accidentally press the sole of 
your foot onto the ball, and emit a serendipitous moan of pleasure as 
the force of the ball against your foot releases some tension. 

You start rolling the ball around with your stocking feet.  I watch 
intently as your toes spread out and try to engulf the entire diameter 
of the sphere.  The tendons connecting your toes to your leg stand out 
markedly as you continue to roll the ball around.  I watch the contorted 
reflection of your black, sheer feet through the crystal. 

Your calves bulge, rock-hard, and your thighs leap up and relax 
alternately while your feet press hard into the massaging and relaxing 
orb.  I catch myself gently humping the floor as I watch this 
intoxicating sight.  You always make sure I have a PERFECT view of your 
legs all through the 'show.'  I moan softly, never uttering a word -the 
intense erotic implications of your feet manipulating the hard crystal 
sphere is driving me wild. 

Unable to stand the erotic agony any longer, I throw myself to my knees 
and crawl over to where you sit.  Your legs playfully open to allow my 
hips in close to your body. There is barely time between touch and the 
time we merge our bodies.  Only the most subtle movements ... this is 
not sex, this is intimacy at its MOST pure...