Ohhhh, Billy! Oh Billy! Ooooohhh! Mmmmmm! Wait, I dont know if we should do this!
Come on, Don, baby… the boys wont see… well go into the garage! Carolyn anxiously tugged on her future husbands sleeve and guided him with determination away from the ranch-style house toward the garage.
I hate whenever people start these stories by saying Im just a normal person. Well, you clearly arent, or you wouldnt have such a fantastic story to tell, now would you? Im not a normal guy, and Im proud of it. I am not, however, above clichés, so I will get that out of the way right now.
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.
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.
Mark, did you hear me?
In the year after I turned 18, three incredible things happened to me. The first two sucked. I guess the third did too, but youll get that joke later.
Suzi was a stunningly beautiful young woman with
At first the young girl pretended the noise she heard was nothing but the wind rushing through the tall pines outside the cabin. At the age of fourteen, she considered herself too old to be frightened by a few stray sounds in the dark. But she couldnt keep herself from ducking her head under the cover and burrowing her turned-up nose under the pillow. She pressed her adolescent breasts into the smooth sheet and hugged one arm across her trim midriff for comfort. The light scuffling sound came again, closer this time, and she drew the lengths of her slim thighs up under the covers until her rounded knees were tight against the hardened tips of her small brown nipples. She lay in a ball in the middle of the unfamiliar bed and felt her heart trip faster and faster. She had to admit now that the noise wasnt coming from outside the cabin at all.
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.
I should start by giving you a little background. My name is Tracy. Trace to my friends. My last name doesnt matter and besides, I couldnt take all the phone calls. Believe it or not, the story you are about to read is true. You could find me in the phone book, and to be perfectly honest, I probably wouldnt mind if a few of you did call, but I couldnt handle you all.
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.
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.
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.
Blair Fortner leaned over her open suitcase and let her strawberry blonde mane cascade down over her shoulders and hang in her way. She was used to working through that veil of hair.
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…
The phone was ringing as Katy unlocked the door into her house. She had
Alfred Hamcock made his way down the aisle of the 767, squeezing by
The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
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.
Ben sat at his desk with his head down in the middle of an empty classroom. He was in trouble and didnt know why. It was already half an hour after school had been let out and he was still in his last period class. He just sighed tiredly and waited. He was waiting for when Mrs. Darien would allow him to go. He didnt understand why she gave him detention. It was the last day of his senior year and at the last second before the bell rang, she said to him, Ben? Please stay in your seat.