How did I get here I wondered to myself as I stood there in the aisle of the theater looking at my wife.
Paul left me months ago.
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.
I would like to begin this story by telling you a little about my wife and I. I believe people hear or read stories similar to this and think that we are some type of outlier or different sort. In reality we are normal people and no one would expect that we have such fantastic sexual experiences. We are just like any other husband and wife living in suburbia. We have three kids, a dog, and even attend church on most Sundays. I work in Ophthalmology and my wife is a science teacher. I think you get the picture. For the most part we live “normal” lives.
Mark, did you hear me?
John and Carol were determined to enjoy their holiday in
Toni Lindroth, once Toni La Rocca and now Toni Lindroth
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…
FUCK YOU you stupid, ungrateful MOTHERFUCKER!
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.
Lets go Alex, we are going to hit traffic if we leave much later, my moms voice grating on me like nails on a chalk board.
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.
Hi, Im Suzy and Im going to tell you about the good
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…
Driving home at 10:00, my eyes ached I was so tired. I could have already been in bed, but I had chosen to work alone in the office. The work wasnt pressing, it just filled my time, and kept my mind busy.
Small, remote towns seemingly maintain a middle-class, stable outlook which in reality masks the turmoil existing behind drawn blinds.
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.
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.
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.
Susie felt it happen as she slipped off her dress, sheer magic warmly enveloping her flesh, softening it to the bone. Her movements slowed. She dropped the dress on the bathroom laundry hamper and felt her face, her throat, her bra stretched by suddenly swollen breasts. Her nipples were hard. She slid a hand down her belly, over her panties to her crotch. It was moist.
Wed only been married about a month when my wife,
This story is entirely fictional. The characters in this story are not real, nor are they in any way related to any real living individual. The intent is strictly for the enjoyment of all readers, and it is not an endorsement of any theme and/or lifestyle.
Friday evening, the first week of June and I was totally relaxed. I’d met a friend for dinner and a drink or two and had gotten home around nine. Now, I was sipping a bit of Maker’s Mark, rocks with just a splash of water while I enjoyed the quiet. It had been an eventful week, Joanie my eighteen year old daughter had graduated, graduated with a 3.96 GPA, not quite valedictorian but second in her class and I was so damned proud.
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.