Gay erotic stories : The Family Cum Rag
Ive always been a big shooter, my cum has always been quitea lot, so when
Ive always been a big shooter, my cum has always been quitea lot, so when
From the backstage wings of the Lucky Nuggett lounge-stage Victor Redgrave studied Sherry Trent (that was her stage name) as she held the boozed and gambling-weary Las Vegas audience spellbound. Even at sixteen, his daughter Sherry had stage presence that some veteran singers might envy. Guitar in hand, her fringed, white western attire so tight-fitting it had the male members of the audience open-mouthed, Sherry held the entire audience in a near-hypnotic trance. Charisma, some critics called it. Victor knew it was sex-appeal. Whatever it was, Sherry had it — in spades — that and an incredible vocal talent that had raised her Nevada price to four-thousand dollars a week.
Description: A young versatile university PhD professor is tired of being the object of derision as the pocket protector guy. When offered an opportunity to join a unique company, he takes a chance and enjoys the transition.
It was Saturday morning and Chloe was sat on the bus into town, in her purse she had the Ł5 that she had saved from her birthday money; rather than visiting the record shop like most girls her age would be doing, she was headed for somewhere quite different. The bus pulled into the bus station and everyone got off, Chloe walked up the high street to the fancy lingerie shop and looked in the window, She wanted to get something special for tonight, she didnt want to be undressed by Mark only for him to find her everyday ill fitting bra. Chloe walked along the door and pushed it open, a little bell rang and a woman about the age of Chloes Mum came out from behind the counter to greet her, There were glass fronted draws full of lacey bras and pants, there were a few mannequins showing off various underwear combinations. Can I help you madam? the woman said to Chloe, Im Im looking for a new bra, something, you know a little bit nicer than something from Marks and Sparks, the woman nodded, new boyfriend?, Chloe blushed, something like that she replied.
My name is Karen and, as some of you may recall, I am
“500 channels, and nothing but Christmas specials on…”
This is ridiculous, I thought, standing outside St. Josephs cottage waiting for Brother Robert to answer my knock. What excuse can I give for coming by this time. Surely by now hes aware that these frequent meetings with him to talk about the boys on his work crew are contrived and unnecessary.
He got up angry with himself and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. As he passed through the common room of the hotel suite he saw her profiled against the lights of the city, the curtains were pulled apart, she was looking down 12 stories to the streets below. He paused to look at her in the dim light that filtered through the window. It had to be his sister, she was too slender to be his mother. The room was dark but he could make out that she was wearing a knee length night gown, it clung to her intimately, the soft light from outside shown through the thin material revealing the swell of her breasts, the firm roundness of her butt. She was a more interesting view than the lights she was looking at.
It was ten-thirty on a beautiful April morning when Conchi Thorne, the woman in Apartment 6-B, looked at her nude self in the bathroom mirror. She was preparing herself for Keith Broys who would come to her at eleven.
My father was an Army officer, so naturally my family
Since my mom and dad were divorced, we lived with my mom. My dad would come around occasionally to visit or to pick us up and take us out somewhere for ice-cream or something else. As we got older their relationship became less and less civil so my dad would not come around very often.
The house was in its usual chaos. My kid brothers and sisters were always scrambling to get ready, to get dropped off somewhere or my mother was scrambling to go pick them up. Dance, sports, band, so-and-sos house. Today mom was bopping from kitchen to living room and up the stairs shouting orders, questions and reminders. I was on the couch, weekend bag next to me, watching U-M getting abused on the football field. My dad was at work, doing an extra weekend shift to keep us afloat.
Matt, youve gotta relax, man. Stop moving your head.
It was ten-thirty on a beautiful April morning when Conchi Thorne, the woman in Apartment 6-B, looked at her nude self in the bathroom mirror. She was preparing herself for Keith Broys who would come to her at eleven.
Synopsis: He gets the sole custody of his daughters and that puts him in a very good situation to be in contact with all the lonely mothers in the neighborhood.
Everyone has heard or read something about the sex clubs. Almost every city in the United States — and possibly abroad — has its intimate club where couples get together and trade mates. It is common to find something about such couples in almost any daily newspaper, or you can buy a good book on the subject at almost any news dealer.
The end justifies the means. How many times have we heard that expression? And how many people act as if that were their sole moral code?
The knowing, wise, old eyes of the school nurse regarded the lovely, auburn-tressed girl who sat across the desk from her. The complaint was a common one; the girl was suffering some faintness with her menstrual period. Ordinarily, Ernestine would have sent the afflicted girl home with instructions for bed rest for the remainder of the day, but she was stopped in mid-reach for the special form excuse she would have to fill out. The girl had just said that she didnt want to go home, asking instead, that she be allowed to stay in the Health Office until the close of school.
Living in the boarding house gave all of them more sex than they could handle. Still it was little brothers big thing that held most of her attention… so rigid and so near and so always ready for her hungry lips.
FUCK YOU you stupid, ungrateful MOTHERFUCKER!
Lets go Alex, we are going to hit traffic if we leave much later, my moms voice grating on me like nails on a chalk board.
I can not endure another night alone! echoes across the world as desperate cries of pain, originating from within the sterile white walls of small apartments everywhere.
Chapter One – The Beginning
I was posed with a dilemma. I wasnt quite between the proverbial rock and