Woman Magazine Fantasy

When I was young, I fancied an older woman that my mother worked for, named Jacqui.
She was sophisticated, sensual, sexy, drop-dead gorgeous, with flame red hair that reached down to her bum, great legs, and all the right curves in all the right places.
She seemed quite flattered that a young lad used to flirt with her. She was a lonely, bored, housewife, who was under-appreciated, despite being a talented good cook, intelligent and witty.
Her husband would rather wear bikers leathers and ride a bike between his legs, than spend time with her.  I wanted her between my legs !
You could say that I had a huge crush on her. When I was introduced to her by my mother, my mouth must have fallen open in awe, like a guppy fish wanting air.
I was speechless and almost unable to think straight. I could hardly say my name, when she asked me. I could only speak in fluent gibberish, like a Neanderthal.
I don’t think my first impression was a good one.
As I got more confident, the flirting began.
At first Jacqui just said she thought I was being polite, so that my mother kept her job as a home cleaner.  There being no need to say nice things to her.
But I wanted to tell her how I felt.
As I persisted, so she realised I was serious. Then she would say “I am old enough to be your mother.”
But I told her how I fancied her like crazy, and her age was not the impediment she thought it was.
On the contrary, what red-blooded male has not fantasized about being seduced by an older, more experienced woman ?
I told her that I desired her more than my next breath.
I told her that I wanted to make love to her, whilst she swung in the garden hammock. Our pelvic thrusts, being perfectly timed with the back and forth motion of the swing.
I told her that I wanted to lay her across the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and polish the wooden surface, using her bottom to buff up the shine, as we got down to business and that afterwards she could serve breakfast to her ungrateful husband, with a wry glint in her eye, as she thought about our recent fun, where he sat.
One day, she invited me to the shops, and reversed the car into a farm track without warning.
Startled, I asked her why. Innocent me. She said that she wanted to get to know me better.
I wanted to tell her that I would marry her, when she felt the time was right.
If she only wanted fun, then this would be provided with total confidentially.
I had even devised a plan.
She had three large 240 lire black wheelie bins, which were lined in shiny black polythene. No jealous husband, is going to look for his wife’s lover in the trash.
I knew collection was on Thursdays. My mum worked Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
We could say to my mum that I was staying week, to learn to swim in their pool. But her husband would not be told.
Then when my mum worked, we could lie and say I was away learning her husband’s business at his factory.
That would leave Tuesdays and Thursdays for our bliss. 9 hours per day, while her husband was away at work.
Of course, she would have to rescue me from trash collection on Thursdays, and I suspect she might want me to take a shower with her to freshen up.
Jacqui might even enjoy my young, soft hands, covered in hot soapy bubbles, gently caressing her glistening skin, as I consigned the curves of her wet body to my memory.
She could even seduce her husband at night, knowing her lover was in the trash, outside in the garden, with the household waste.
Her husband was her third one, and he was a millionaire.
I pondered if she had granted one wish as a witch, and he had chosen money.
She used to read Woman Magazine each week, and used to sometimes give it to my mother on Fridays.
My mother also loved reading women’s magazines, such as Woman, Woman’s Own, Bella and Best, which my aunt used to buy and let my mum have after she was finished with them.
These would be read by my mother, and I loved to hear her turn the pages, and they always looked so sexy with their glossy paper, which even smelled erotic.
My mother never kept them either, and they would end up being given to a neighbour.
I bucked up the courage to ask her to let me have them, but I was sternly told that boys don’t read such things. These were for women only, and that also made them elicit.
Once she relented and let me pick three Woman’s Own Magazines from her pile of 30 magazines. But the hassle I got, was unbelievable.
“Why do you want these ?”   “What are you going to do with them ?”
There was no privacy !!
I discovered that I love the taste, scent and touch of giving a woman oral sex, and I became a very enthusiastic and dedicated lover.
One session lasted the whole 9 hours. I think she came 10 times, and had to be peeled off the ceiling, she was so high on endorphins.
It is amazing that Cosmopolitan Magazine, would even draw helpful diagrams to explain where the clitoris and G-spot are. Compulsory reading for lads everywhere !
In my fantasy, when it came to granting my wish, Jacqui could transform me into her weekly Woman Magazine, and I could be merely left around the house in plain sight.
I would jerk my cock off for hours, just thinking of her using me as her magazine.
Perhaps, if I could time my stay at her house, with the week that my mother got her hair done at the hairdressers, I could play a sexy prank.
I would tell my mum that I was staying at Jacqui’s house. (I needed extra swimming lessons, or something.)
I would let Jacqui keep me as her weekly Woman Magazine, and transform me back on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I could give her loads more oral sex.
Jacqui being the tease she was, might even hint that “If I was not careful, she might ‘accidentally’ give me away to my mum to be read.”
I would call her bluff, but ‘forget’ to mention that I knew my mum was getting her hair done on Saturday morning.
Instead, I would suggest to Jacqui, that she merely gave me away to my mum, on Friday afternoon, and when she picked mum up on Monday morning; she could ask for her Woman Magazine back, and I would simply be returned.
I could tell Jacqui that we could laugh that mum would never know she was reading me as a Woman Magazine.
But all the while, I knew mum would read the Woman Magazine, when she got home on Friday evening.
On Saturday morning, I would be taken to the hairdressers, and left with the other weekly magazines, for the female owner, her staff and her customers to read and enjoy.
With luck, I might be fondled by 30 women.
Then when Jacqui picked up mum, on Monday morning, and asked for her magazine back; a worried mum would explain that I was now in a women’s hairdressers.
Being a witch, Jacqui might rescue me. Or maybe I would be left to my fate. Hopefully !

15 Responses

  1. I would indeed love to be draped across a woman’s breasts. But I have found most women rest their magazines on their laps, unless they hold it up in their hands. As her magazine, I would have no say in what she did with me. Tear a coupon out (ouch !), recycle me, or put me in her household waste. Hopefully she would have some daughters who liked reading me too. Or perhaps her mother, neighbour or friend. I am hers, she could and would treat me as she wanted. Yippee !

    1. Is this a serious question magface?? Good grief…. thought you had grown up then saw you first picking someone up on their spelling and now this.

      1. In answer to Jackie. Thanks for your support.

        I did chuckle writing a fantasy about a woman named Jacqui (different spelling to yours). It was genuinely her name. Honest.

        Just a happy coincidence…. LOL !

    2. In answer to Magface. It is neither and both !

      Yes. I did engage in romance with a more experienced lady. That part is a true story. However, the very definition of the word ‘fantasy’ is something that is not real.

      However, it is not ‘some strange fantasy’. Fantasy can be anything a person desires. It need not make sense nor be achievable in real life. But then again, it does not have to.

      Any judgemental overtones are unwarranted. We all share intimate stuff here, and I don’t ridicule what others like.

        1. You did say “strange” fantasy. So not just a question. Most of us here, have a some point, or still do, think this fetish makes us weird or strange, and you put wood on that fire.

  2. Your words and your deeds are contradictory.

    Now you insult the person.

    Don’t see how that is helping your cause.

    Best not to reply, with an attitude like that.

    1. Certainly sounds erotic. I like the idea of insertion, but perhaps a more natural use, like being a tampon. I like the magazine to be kept and treated well, except for natural things like wear and tear, coupon removal or disposal in the waste. Cheers for sharing.

      1. my girlfriend always used it as a magazine as a dildo because she didn’t want her parents to find a dildo so when i first came to her and told her about it i often fantasized about it but when i get turned into a magazine what i like the most is that i’m just normally used as a magazine and then thrown away

        1. Wow. What a fantastic girlfriend. If I were her I would have been worried about receiving paper cuts in a delicate place. There is / was a porn shoot of a young lady doing erotic things with her Cosmo magazine. Sadly I also found a male inserting a magazine in his rear. Poor thing to be treated like that. My favourite sexual act is giving a woman oral. I can go for 9 hours straight. Her pleasure is paramount.

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