Ohhhh, Billy! Oh Billy! Ooooohhh! Mmmmmm! Wait, I dont know if we should do this!
It wasn’t, however, so cold as the two occupants in the bedroom snuggled with each other on the queen-size fourposter. Monica Hershel French kissed her beautiful girlfriend Nina Mercedez, the voluptuous Latina, who lay nude and vulnerable on her back like a delicacy to be devoured. Nina let the skinny Predator lick her neck and impulsively hugged the voracious lesbian, clutching her tight and sighed in anticipation to the dalliance she’d relish. The Predator had a talent of pleasuring girls and devouring their curvaceous bodies, through her mouth and hands.
This is another story that takes place in the timeline of a major world war. It does not pick up where Collateral Damage left off, but is rather another slice of life from the time period Ive envisioned and actually takes place earlier than Collateral Damage, during the most desperate portion of the war, when the enemy is driving into the United States, seemingly invulnerable. For those of you who wrote telling me you found Collateral Damage too dark of a story to be enjoyed, I would suggest you not read North of the River. It is even darker. For everyone else, please let me know, as always, what you thought of it. As with all of these stories Im posting, they are all self-contained stories capable of being enjoyed by themselves, and all potential first chapters in an ongoing series. I make no promises as of yet to continue them.
I guess I should start from the beginning. Jon and I had
I get to the airport two hours early. Im always a little off-kilter when David has been away – not in the way that one worries over the possibility of a plane crash or car accident, but just simply unaccustomed to the quiet of the house, the noises that suddenly seem so loud without his presence, the other side of the bed still cold come morning. I miss him during every business trip and am always eager for him to be home. Today Im extra excited, my mind running over the plan Ive been formulating in my head the last few days. David has no idea what hes in for tonight and Im counting the minutes till I see him.
Some might find me a wimp and some might say I should
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.
It all started a couple of years before I was even in high school. A group of guys who pretty much hung out all the time together started this game. They were constantly bragging about which girls they’d bagged the night before or some kinky thing they did. It got to where the stories were so elaborate, they decided to make a big poster-board chart of the various girls, what their kinks were, which would do what, who had done them and how. This way, if a guy was interested in doing one of the girls on the chart, he knew exactly how to get her and what she was into. It pretty much guaranteed success and saved a lot of time and effort.
The Sisters Savoy they were known as, when they had their nightclub act. They sang and danced and told funny stories about growing up triplets. They were each as beautiful as the other, even though they were never that famous. I broke up the act you see, when mom became pregnant with me. That bulging belly broke the symmetry of the three and they never got back into show biz after that. Susan, my mother, married my dad, a local hardware store owner. Shortly after, Aunt Sylvia wed a rich man, who died when his private plane went down, a few years back. Aunt Sally hitched her wagon to a long distance truck driver, who was seldom in town.
FUCK YOU you stupid, ungrateful MOTHERFUCKER!
RWS-244 DADDYS DELIGHT by Richard Van Dorne
Tom has heard the tales of perpetual frustration at the hands of the virginal Miss Darling – a kindergarten teacher at the school where he teaches. Her heavenly gates, along with everything else, are off limits to all until marriage. Nevertheless, he puts forth his best effort in prying those gates open. Will he succeed where so many others have failed? Or will he be just another poor slob sacrificed on the alter of terminal disappointment? A good Christian sex story.
Scott has been in love with Tabitha, the single mother next door, almost since the first day he moved in. The problem is that Tabitha is in love with someone else a married man who has all the right excuses for why hes still with his wife. And then one snowy Christmas Eve…
This gorgeous married lady is a genuinely submissive lady who would love to answer Mails from men who appreciate her sexy body, and would like to tease her and instruct her into doing naughty things!! Any notes/comments will be forwarded to her by Hopebeach, and she promises to answer each reply if you leave your Mail address.
Alfred Hamcock made his way down the aisle of the 767, squeezing by
I was bored out of my mind. I had no interest at all in the game on TV and the rest of the offerings were just plain shit! I searched the streaming services and found nothing I wanted to watch. Earlier I had jerked off to some hot lesbian porn and didnt feel the need to watch any more. I needed to do something! I read shit-loads of stuff and just didnt feel like reading anything at the moment.
It was Christmas Eve, 2015, and, in Heritage, California, it was about as cold as it ever got. The mercury was hovering in the mid-thirties and a cold, freezing rain, driven by an artic wind from a low-pressure system over Oregon, was falling all over the area. There were reports that snow was falling as low as one thousand feet in the nearby Sierra Nevada foothills, dusting the exclusive Heritage suburbs of Cypress Hills and Andiron. There were even cautious predictions that as the temperature continued to drop in the late evening and early morning hours that snow might fall in Heritage itself. If true, this would be an extremely rare occurrence. At an average elevation of forty feet, Heritage had only received measurable snowfall six times in recorded history. And never had it snowed on Christmas.
Maxwell Alexander eased back in his plush desk chair and
I lead the typical boring life of a stay at home mom.
Wed only been married about a month when my wife,
That was fun! I hadnt skied in years. I was wet, sore, and starting to feel a slight chill from the falling temperature, but I was in high spirits. Our rented cabin was a bit of a trek through the crunching snow. It was actually more of a small Chalet, that my buddy Kent had traded time-share points to get for that weekend. This was something he and I had been planning for months, a surprise for the girls. The final piece fell into place when Kents parents agreed to take Kent and Janets kids for the three-day weekend. In the distance I could see the lights shining in the two story A-frame structure wed arrived at earlier this morning. The bulk of the day had been spent drinking, skiing, drinking, playing in the snow, and more drinking. My wife, Anne, and I are pretty close to Kent and Janet. Theres a lot more playful touching and affectionate kissing than I think there is between most couples. Today was no different, of course. During our trek across the snow, very suggestive innuendo and some pretty bold groping ensued, especially between Kent and my wife. There was a bit between Janet and me, too, though I usually behaved myself more than Kent did.