One hot summer day my father and I were in the hay mow stacking hay and as we were waiting for the next load of hay we began to wrestle around and he pinned me down on a bale of hay and looked me in the face and said I could fuck you right here and I said I dare you to. Then the next load of hay showed up and he said youre lucky the hay saved your ass. So we finished stacking the next load and then we were done for the day as I was walking out of the mow I bent over to wipe the hay off my pants and he came up behind me grabbed my hips and started dry humping me.
Brian Wark was in a little bit of bother, he knew he had a way out and his only option was to take it, so he was. He had been trying his luck with his best mates mother, he had been under the impression that she liked his surreptitious spots of innuendo, flirty touches, kisses on the cheek. His lewd eye contacts, letting her know that he was up for a bit of fun if she was.
This happened early 70’s when I was 16 .
Matt, youve gotta relax, man. Stop moving your head.
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.
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.
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!
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.
Someone knocked on glass door of the Spade & Archer office. From under his dark brown fedora, Sam Spade pried open one eye then placed the half bottle of Old Sweat Sock in his desk drawer while he shoved the cock he had been stroking back in his pants. Rising, he straightened his trench coat, drawing the belt tight around his waist and tied it in a knot. Come in, he growled in his best Humphrey Bogart imitation.
When I got home late Saturday night, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table. I said to her Geez, Mom Im 25 years old now, you dont have to wait up for me.
It had started like any other night at work.
Paul left me months ago.
I was young when we moved to New Jersey. I had a neighbor. An older gentlemen. I met him in our back yard. He was very friendly and we became good friends.
The sea wind rushed through the eaves of the large warehouse, sending draughts of humid air through the cracks in the windows and up the stairs into the rooms occupied by Cash and Ellen, the driver, Sylvia, and the German Shepherd.
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.
Im not going to use fancy words to try to tell this story. There may be many grammatical errors but I dont care. Im just going to be straight forward and truthful about this story that I am about to share with you. So sit back and relax. I hope you enjoy
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.
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.
Greg had pestered his wife to let a big black cock
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 a bizarre, schizophrenic existence, being a sorority slave. During the day I would attend classes just like the other girls, and be required to use my mind and brains, to think clearly and question things. Then I would go back to the sorority house, where I would immediately strip and don the chains of slavery, where I must close off all thinking lest I question or hesitate or give offense.
The southern plantation owner, whose skin was as white as milk, sat in his over-stuffed easy chair in the corner of the large, plush livingroom inside his mansion.
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.