How realistic is that? They discussed the meaning, the reality of the film, and whether each was for sale in certain situations.
Challengingly she asked him if he could be bought and looked him smugly in the eyes. He felt like provoking her a bit. That had irritated him for a long time. Yes, he could be bought. It would only depend on the price. He gave her a cheeky wink. She accepted his through ball. The conversation took on a sizzling undertone. They had cultivated a bit of ambiguity in their conversations quite often. Both always went along with it up to a certain point, but when it got too intimate, both of them always avoided it. He diplomatically dodged the question of what he would do for money, simply repeating that under certain circumstances he could be bought and the consideration need not be money. If it would be worth
They both grinned meaningfully, ending the direction of the conversation because it was once again reaching that one point not yet passed where playing with fire could have gotten out of control.
Two weeks later they had coffee together. After a while she looked at him meaningfully and spoke of an offer she wanted to make him. He paused, then remembered the conversation with the immoral offer. Is that what she meant? Before he could continue his thoughts, she asked him what it would cost, since he was probably for sale for an immoral offer. On the one hand he was taken aback by this offer, on the other hand he played along after having dreamed of it for a long time. It appealed to him. It irritated her. Both were married, loved their partners and therefore had never crossed a certain point, also because they were good friends or precisely because of that. This crossroads was now reached. To block a back door, they spoke in the subjunctive. He smiled at her and said that he must already know which offer she means. Please make it clearer. The price would be very different. If he liked the offer, he would be available for free. If he didn't like it, he would turn it down anyway, because then he would be priceless. After a moment's hesitation, the sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable, she made him an immoral offer. He could come by when she was alone. She would offer him something. His blood rushed through his body, fogging him. Should his fantasy come true. He specified and asked in a trembling voice whether she meant that she would be alone longer and he would have a little more time than usual, since we had met at home more than once. That's exactly what she means.
A few days later the phone rang. She was on the line. A tingling was felt immediately. She informed him in a low voice that she would be alone for the next few days and asked if he was still interested in the offer or had gotten cold feet. Excited, he replied that the offer still stood and that the price could be discussed later. Just the sound of her voice made his nerve endings vibrate with pleasure.
He had all afternoon, so he jumped into his car and drove to her place. When he got to the house, the door opened before he could ring the bell. She leaned against the door frame.
He whistled softly through his teeth. He had never seen her in a dress before. Fitted, not too sexy but chic. The dress really accentuated her figure. The color green matched her flowing mane. "What a purebred," he thought.
"If I had known that, I would have dressed up too," he opened the conversation at the door. His gaze wandered admiringly over her body. "I like what you're wearing. You know I like that pink shirt and those jeans on you!” she countered boldly. As always, they hugged each other in greeting. This time the touch creates a crazy tension in both of them, which was about to explode. She sniffed his neck and took a deep breath. "Mmh, you know that this perfume turns me on!" "I know and today is a special occasion to turn me on." It seemed to be difficult for both of them to break away from each other. Their bodies behaved like opposite poles of a strong magnet.
She led the way into the living room. Her rocking step, the rhythmically moving buttocks attracted his gaze magically. He wondered if she was wearing panties. At least no contours were visible under the dress. He had asked himself this question many times in the past and had never received an answer. She handed him a glass of champagne. They toasted each other and drank it in one gulp. The nervousness could not be seen from the outside, but inside it was seething. Understandable, it was not an everyday situation for either of them. The second glass was quickly filled. Again they toasted each other. Their gazes sank into each other and plunged into the infinite depths. They both felt like drowning in it; wanting to be swept down with the whirlpool, to capture this moment,
She broke that spell first, putting down her glass and walking towards him. He did the same and received her in his arms. They sank into a never-ending kiss, first hesitantly, then more demanding to the point of greedily snaking their tongues together. Breathing heavily, they broke apart only to, after a brief pause that lasted no more than a breath, slither back into this sweet-tasting, no-win fight. His hands wandered around, laid on her buttocks and reached into them voluptuously. He also felt her hands on his bottom. It had excited him visibly and tangibly. She needed to feel his erection through the jeans. They rocked against each other. He felt her hard nipples on his chest. "How long have I longed to feel you like this" he gasped in her ear. "Then there are two of us," she whispered back. It feels like they're in slow motion. Garment after garment follows gravity and falls to the ground. They don't know how or when, but they both end up naked on the sofa and continue exploring each other's bodies. Every square centimeter of skin is explored by him and her. They push each other up. However, before they are swept away by the cloud of lust, they pull back and then start the game over. The greed of both grows immeasurably and causes almost physical pain. Her hard nipples, wet womb, his hard, steeply protruding phallus, the sweat on the skin, the rapid breathing, the moans and wheezes show both of them a rapidly rising excitement curve. When they think they can't take it anymore, she rolls on top of him; takes the lead. As if by itself, the phallus dives into her wet love grotto. Sighing, she takes in every inch until their bodies merge and become one. The lust for each other, which has been pent up for weeks, rather months, rapidly climbs to unimagined heights of intoxication and ends in an eruptive volcanic eruption that makes both of them swoon in the vortex of the lustful twilight. Bathed in sweat, they find themselves back in reality. They feel and enjoy each other's nudity in silence. "I'm glad I accepted the immoral offer," he whispers in her ear. "We still haven't talked about the price?" she whispers back. "Like I said, if you like it, I'm free.
Challengingly she asked him if he could be bought and looked him smugly in the eyes. He felt like provoking her a bit. That had irritated him for a long time. Yes, he could be bought. It would only depend on the price. He gave her a cheeky wink. She accepted his through ball. The conversation took on a sizzling undertone. They had cultivated a bit of ambiguity in their conversations quite often. Both always went along with it up to a certain point, but when it got too intimate, both of them always avoided it. He diplomatically dodged the question of what he would do for money, simply repeating that under certain circumstances he could be bought and the consideration need not be money. If it would be worth
They both grinned meaningfully, ending the direction of the conversation because it was once again reaching that one point not yet passed where playing with fire could have gotten out of control.
Two weeks later they had coffee together. After a while she looked at him meaningfully and spoke of an offer she wanted to make him. He paused, then remembered the conversation with the immoral offer. Is that what she meant? Before he could continue his thoughts, she asked him what it would cost, since he was probably for sale for an immoral offer. On the one hand he was taken aback by this offer, on the other hand he played along after having dreamed of it for a long time. It appealed to him. It irritated her. Both were married, loved their partners and therefore had never crossed a certain point, also because they were good friends or precisely because of that. This crossroads was now reached. To block a back door, they spoke in the subjunctive. He smiled at her and said that he must already know which offer she means. Please make it clearer. The price would be very different. If he liked the offer, he would be available for free. If he didn't like it, he would turn it down anyway, because then he would be priceless. After a moment's hesitation, the sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable, she made him an immoral offer. He could come by when she was alone. She would offer him something. His blood rushed through his body, fogging him. Should his fantasy come true. He specified and asked in a trembling voice whether she meant that she would be alone longer and he would have a little more time than usual, since we had met at home more than once. That's exactly what she means.
A few days later the phone rang. She was on the line. A tingling was felt immediately. She informed him in a low voice that she would be alone for the next few days and asked if he was still interested in the offer or had gotten cold feet. Excited, he replied that the offer still stood and that the price could be discussed later. Just the sound of her voice made his nerve endings vibrate with pleasure.
He had all afternoon, so he jumped into his car and drove to her place. When he got to the house, the door opened before he could ring the bell. She leaned against the door frame.
He whistled softly through his teeth. He had never seen her in a dress before. Fitted, not too sexy but chic. The dress really accentuated her figure. The color green matched her flowing mane. "What a purebred," he thought.
"If I had known that, I would have dressed up too," he opened the conversation at the door. His gaze wandered admiringly over her body. "I like what you're wearing. You know I like that pink shirt and those jeans on you!” she countered boldly. As always, they hugged each other in greeting. This time the touch creates a crazy tension in both of them, which was about to explode. She sniffed his neck and took a deep breath. "Mmh, you know that this perfume turns me on!" "I know and today is a special occasion to turn me on." It seemed to be difficult for both of them to break away from each other. Their bodies behaved like opposite poles of a strong magnet.
She led the way into the living room. Her rocking step, the rhythmically moving buttocks attracted his gaze magically. He wondered if she was wearing panties. At least no contours were visible under the dress. He had asked himself this question many times in the past and had never received an answer. She handed him a glass of champagne. They toasted each other and drank it in one gulp. The nervousness could not be seen from the outside, but inside it was seething. Understandable, it was not an everyday situation for either of them. The second glass was quickly filled. Again they toasted each other. Their gazes sank into each other and plunged into the infinite depths. They both felt like drowning in it; wanting to be swept down with the whirlpool, to capture this moment,
She broke that spell first, putting down her glass and walking towards him. He did the same and received her in his arms. They sank into a never-ending kiss, first hesitantly, then more demanding to the point of greedily snaking their tongues together. Breathing heavily, they broke apart only to, after a brief pause that lasted no more than a breath, slither back into this sweet-tasting, no-win fight. His hands wandered around, laid on her buttocks and reached into them voluptuously. He also felt her hands on his bottom. It had excited him visibly and tangibly. She needed to feel his erection through the jeans. They rocked against each other. He felt her hard nipples on his chest. "How long have I longed to feel you like this" he gasped in her ear. "Then there are two of us," she whispered back. It feels like they're in slow motion. Garment after garment follows gravity and falls to the ground. They don't know how or when, but they both end up naked on the sofa and continue exploring each other's bodies. Every square centimeter of skin is explored by him and her. They push each other up. However, before they are swept away by the cloud of lust, they pull back and then start the game over. The greed of both grows immeasurably and causes almost physical pain. Her hard nipples, wet womb, his hard, steeply protruding phallus, the sweat on the skin, the rapid breathing, the moans and wheezes show both of them a rapidly rising excitement curve. When they think they can't take it anymore, she rolls on top of him; takes the lead. As if by itself, the phallus dives into her wet love grotto. Sighing, she takes in every inch until their bodies merge and become one. The lust for each other, which has been pent up for weeks, rather months, rapidly climbs to unimagined heights of intoxication and ends in an eruptive volcanic eruption that makes both of them swoon in the vortex of the lustful twilight. Bathed in sweat, they find themselves back in reality. They feel and enjoy each other's nudity in silence. "I'm glad I accepted the immoral offer," he whispers in her ear. "We still haven't talked about the price?" she whispers back. "Like I said, if you like it, I'm free.
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