Lesbian love (ff sex stories)
Paul left me months ago.
Paul left me months ago.
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.
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.
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.
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
Richard held on to his mind with difficulty. His senses were reeling. He felt dizzy. It was one of those numerous delightful nights which all young married people will remember later on in their life with nostalgia, one of those honeymoon-like nights when the bedroom atmosphere is charged sensuality and the husband wants to make love to his wife and not just have sex with her…
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.
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.
It was 11 am of a sunny and glorious morning at a popular international Resort in Cancun, Mexico. My lovely wife Angela and I were enjoying the 2nd day of our 1 week vacation, and, recommended by a friend of us who suggested the place, we were not disappointed at first sight. A beautiful sandy beach and crystal water enchanted the place where, mostly Europeans, were already in full-beach mode, plus hotel facilities and its food choices were amazing.
FUCK YOU you stupid, ungrateful MOTHERFUCKER!
This is a true story of what happened to us about three
Chapter One – The Beginning
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.
The phone was ringing as Katy unlocked the door into her house. She had
My name is Karen and, as some of you may recall, I am
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 must have been about 7 PM when I walked in the door. My job had kept me a little longer than normal, and the Friday night traffic was imposable. I must have startled her when I called out, Hi honey, Im home.
There are times when you are hurtling down the rail-road
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.
Wed only been married about a month when my wife,