Stefan Rani was a tall, good looking guy, with really blonde hair and Windex blue eyes. Unlike a lot of handsome dudes he wasn’t full of himself and didn’t consider himself God’s gift to women as some in his situation might do.
Carla moaned softly. The aluminum cigar tube slid up into her cunt, pressing apart the soft folds of slippery pink flesh. Smaller, colder, and harder than a mans cock, it still felt fantastic. It felt wonderful to have her cunt filled again, even with such a crude imitation of the real thing. Lying on her back with her legs spread widely, straining the tendons on the insides of her thighs, Carla slid the tube deep into her oozing hole. It pressed the end of her cunt, stretching her. Then, slowly, tantalizingly, she fucked the tube in and out, in and out.
Ohhhh, Billy! Oh Billy! Ooooohhh! Mmmmmm! Wait, I dont know if we should do this!
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 was six in the morning. Jugnu awoke and saw that he
“500 channels, and nothing but Christmas specials on…”
Suck it… suck it you hot slut.
The Sundollars Coffee chain liked to put up signs touting how the Wall Street Journal and several other business-oriented publications considered them one of the worlds best employers to work for. Mark Grogan was not exactly sure what factors these publications used in order to make this determination but he was pretty sure they had never asked the peons who actually worked the counters. Granted, Sundollars was a few steps above the fast food sweatshops he did time in back in high school – the pace was a little slower and the pay was a little better – but they did not offer him medical or dental benefits, they did not match funds for the 401k, and the only real opportunity for advancement was to assistant manager, which meant he would be salaried and forced to come in far beyond his normal working hours with no additional hourly pay. He had been there for almost two years now and could not quite bring himself to accept that promotion though they repeated the offer at least once every quarter. Working at Sundollars was a McJob, just like any other. It was a means to get him through college and, as far as that went, it fit the bill rather nicely. He came in four mornings a week at 6:00 AM and worked until 10:30, which left him just enough time to get to the California State University at Heritage Campus where he was carrying eighteen units a semester towards a Criminal Justice degree.
Suzi was a stunningly beautiful young woman with
Toni Lindroth, once Toni La Rocca and now Toni Lindroth
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.
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.
When I first met her she had been divorced for several years and was different from any women I had ever met. She was a throwback to an earlier time. A very gentile southern woman with beauty, charm and warmth not common in women today. She was never vulgar always dressed appropriate and was a calm, kind and loving woman. I wondered when we first met if this was part of her act.
Nikki walked into work that day just knowing that today was the day that she was going to suck Jack off. She had thought over and over again about how that dick of his would feel sliding across her lips. Across, between, enclosed and gripped by the glossy as well as the velvety folds of her hotbox. Both pink and both no stranger to a hot dick. Her full and almost unnaturally rounded tits heaved as she let out a little sigh.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“Ace got locked up last week, he gon’ be in the box for a minute.” Tre said
The following story is a piece of fiction and is to be
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.
The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
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.