The hobo had been hanging around the junction most of
The hobo had been hanging around the junction most of the day. Dubbed ‘Squeek’ by his friends he had been living off the streets most of his adult life, earning a buck where he could. Handing out newspapers and washing windscreens for tips wasn’t bad work but it was getting late into the afternoon. He was getting hungry and needed a meal and a bottle badly. Maybe even a dollar suck from one of the crack whores on his block. Rattling his change bag Squeek grinned to himself. Yeah. Another hour of this shit and he would head over to the soup kitchen on the corner of Brooksdale for a bite to eat. The roads were quiet anyway and business had dried up. The sound of a powerful engine approaching fast filled the air and he turned just in time to see a red sports car zip around the corner. Braking hard at the lights light trails of smoke came off the thick tires. Squeek whistled. It was a nice, new looking convertible but his attention was trained more on the occupant; a young white girl. She was in her late teens and extremely pretty, ‘Britney Spears’ blasting over her radio as she chatted enthusiastically into a tiny, pink mobile phone. All but ignoring the watching black man as he picked up his bucket and wiper and walked towards the car.
Synopsis: Jim Hartman is a paramedic in Heritage County, California. A man who has not been laid in years. Follow his exploits as he tries to hook up with Robin, the loose registration clerk at a local hospital, to end this dryspell. The first in a series of tales written about this fictional county.
I had just graduated college with a teaching degree in English and I was burdened with debt that would be with me for decades. I decided to accept a position at a title one inner city high school in hopes of making a difference in my soon to be students’ lives, plus the bonus was a nice incentive too. I prepared my classroom for the coming school year and looked forward, not without some anxiety and hesitation, to meeting my new students. I was in for a really rude awakening that first day when the classes began to fill up. I had four classes, two freshman, one sophomore and one senior English class. I immediately found out that compared to the senior class, the other three were going to be a walk in the park.
Judging from some of the fan mail she has let us read, Grace Eddy is rapidly becoming one of the most popular writers at Surrey House, Inc.. All of her many exciting novels have been very good sellers for Rated X and Surrey Collectors.
Fire is often said to be the one single discovery which led man to rise above the beasts and enabled him to distinguish himself as a ruler of the earth. But to a man standing on the sidewalk in his pajamas and watching a holocaust of orange flame destroying his home and with it everything that he spent his life accumulating, fire is a damnation — an evil invented by the devil for his persecution.
Further adventures of Ken, Meghan, and Jo from A Correct Destiny. I have written this story so it is not necessary to have read the original novel to enjoy and understand it, although it will no doubt be enhanced if you have/do.
I fucked my heavily pregnant big sister. At the time she was twenty six and I was a shy pimply faced twenty year old more comfortable handling books than girls. I was forever horny and spent a lot of time jerking off after or while reading sex novels and magazines. This was before the time of internet porn. I’d had two girlfriends but had never gotten past the kissing and feeling stage. The last one was a year before this incident. But I had done some fucking, having mustered the courage on about half a dozen occasions over the past two years to invest saved up pocket money on cheap prostitutes.
The fantasies flashed through his brain in little lightning shocks. Lips caressing the backs of upper thighs, licking softly, a white leg rising up an inch or two with each wet kiss… the aroma of untapped moisture from a steaming body, a hot fragrance. His testicles filled to bursting… plunging for the blessed snarl and gulp of the sticky mouth bath… spreading and splitting those thighs apart, burying his face against the drenched and turgid cavity… his tongue wet-sliding, dipping into the naked throb itself, toying there with the fire-hot vulva heart, licking and encircling the clit in a feathery rage… the candy taste and the swallowing of the creamed pussy.
While it was in progress, it would be called World War III. After it was all said and done, it would be called Armageddon. Whatever it was referred to as, it would go down in history as the bloodiest, costliest, most destructive event in human history. Though not a single nuclear or fusion weapon and not a single chemical warhead would be used during the ten long years of the war, more than six hundred million people would be killed as a result of the fighting.
I knew the females voice. I was absolutely certain.
Although the bedpost could have provided support for his venture, the skinny hairy man was too drunk to notice. He balanced on one leg and regarded the sock — his arch-enemy of the moment — curled enticingly around his toes. He grabbed for it, missed, grabbed again, finally managed to pull it up at least as far as his ankle, took that for a victory, put his foot back on the floor just in time to avoid a fall. He remembered the voluptuous girl on the bed, frowned at her, began the search for his other sock.
The facade of respectability often crumbles to dust with remarkable swiftness once its protective armor has been pierced.