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During Karen James quick move to VP marketing for a large financial institution

Administrator — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 10:14:02 +0000

she had made many enemies, least among them Ms. Brenda Jacobs. Karen had been

running a close second for the VP slot against Brenda, but had managed to slip

past her by anonymously leaking false information about BJ thru the companies

computer system. Brenda was never sure where the rumors started but had a very

good idea.

Once Karen had taken her position still fearing Brenda’s superior talent, she

proceeded to “in effect” demote her by making her the department head over a much

smaller department. This move infuriated Brenda and revenge was all she could

think about. Months went by before her chance would come, then one day as if a

miracle she was in Karen’s office when Karen had to leave the office quickly and

failed to log off her computer it was the chance BJ had waited for. She quickly

determined Karen’s password from the careless notes left unprotected on her

messages and then she noticed the “anonymous” memos with Brenda’s name on them.

It had been Karen in fact that had stared the false rumors. Karen would live to

regret both mistakes.

The company was doing much work with the 3rd world, in a small country, Bariwa,

with much mineral potential. They were working on a financing plan to exploit

these for the good of the country. BJ finally had her chance to be rid of Karen

forever. As it turns out the project was in almost absolute control of Karen and

since BJ had access to all her files she could interfere with the project.

Brenda formulated her plan and began putting it into action.

Bariwa was depositing large sum of gold with the company in exchange for cash

which Karen was to invest on behalf of the Bariwanian government. BJ began

intercepting the transfer requests from Karen and making them herself. Using

Karen’s ID and password she opened a money market account with her firm and

stared stripping 5% of all transfers Karen requested and depositing it in

“Karens’s” account. Within a month “Karen” had embesseled 3.5 million dollars.

The trap was set….

The following Monday Karen left for Bariwa and BJ left for Western Union. She

had updated all of Karen’s real computer records with her transaction and booked

a flight from Bariwa to Rio in Karen’s name, conviently one day after Karen’s

scheduled return. The wire was to the Bariwanian finance minister and outlined

suspicious activity that the sender felt was not in the best interest of Bariwa,

with enough details to point the inquiries in the right direction, signed

“Anonymous”.

Just as planed the minister made inquiries that very day to the company

president’s office and Karen’s “plot” was uncovered. The company quickly

complied with requests for records in an effort to retain their business. And

still Karen had no idea the snare was about to be triggered as she visited with

several government officials in Bariwa. On her final official visit she was to

see the finance minister and arrived in a limo at the capital early in the

morning. She would not have a good day. She noticed on her way in that security

seemed very tight. There were four armed guards in the ministers waiting room,

all very large men with frowns on their faces but she did not worry. When she

…End of the part1. To be continued..

You still here It’s after 6 ” I dump my bag beside his desk kiss the top of

Administrator — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 10:48:02 +0000

his head and lean over his shoulder to check out the screen. Log files and

newsgroups — nothing he couldn’t have finished with three hours before.

“Yeah — well — there was something I needed to deal with.” He doesn’t even look

up, but continues scrolling through the latest figures. “Were we going anywhere

tonight?”

I can tell by the attitude that he has no intention of moving for a while yet.

Fine. Something needs to happen. So I make it happen. “Are we the last ones left

in here?”

“Yeah”

Right.

Shoes.

Shirt

Jeans

Bra — onto the keyboard in front of him (underwired). He finally looks

up, notices what state I’m in.

“Oh. Staying a while, are we?”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it? I mean, you’re the one with the ever-so-important

work.” It’s really hard to keep the voice to irony-level. “Got anything

interesting off the newsgroups?”

“Just the Tommy Lee and Pamela vids.” He leads me out to the reception area,

where a high-edged desk faces the glass front, protecting the occupant from

ill-timed glances. There, under cover of the desk, he fires up the PC and loads

those videos.

And watches. And watches. And watches. Hmmm — not funny any more. “So, do you

like what she’s doing to him?”

“Oh, it looks all right.”

“Would you like me to do that to you?” And I go down to my knees and undo his

jeans. His cock, half erect already, is trying to escape the boxer shorts, so the

least I can do is encourage it with my lips. And tongue. And I gently send the

tip of that same tongue all along the bottom of it, tracing the ridge from the

base past the coarse hairs to the tip, and start coaxing a response by licking

small tender licks around the head as it rears and presents itself for further

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Him

Administrator — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 11:02:01 +0000

There was an amber glow on the ceiling from the logs that were burning
brightly in the fireplace. It warmed me with its radiating heat as I sat on
the floor before it. I slowly sipped the wine which he so readily poured. It
was sweet with a robust aroma that was clouding my head and thoughts. I
watched him as he turned to place another log on the fire.

Who was he? I only met him this morning. We talked briefly at our
chance meeting while browsing the shelves at a local bookstore. He was strong
and muscular. Tall, about 6 feet, with sandy brown hair. I suppose I was
attracted to him, for when he asked me to his place for a glass of wine, I
readily accepted.

As I sat there before the fireplace in his den, my thoughts drifted to
this afternoon, of the private moments I enjoyed as I prepared for this
evening. I recalled having completed my shower and feeling warm all over as I
passed the soft towel over my naked body. Standing naked before my mirror, I
admired the shapely form of my body. My rounded well proportioned breasts were
firm with large cherry-red nipples. Looking down, I could just see the
glistening folds of my vaginal lips, through the dusty blonde hairs of my pubic
mound. I remember trying to decide what to wear. I selected a sexy, loose
fitting button down blouse and matching shorts, which I laid out in preparation
for this evening. I chose a dainty bra and panty set. Both were made of red
silk with a touch of black lace. Dressing, the bra fit snugly, firming my
round breasts, the panties were briefs, ending just above the line of my pubic
mound. As the cool silk of the undergarments touched my warm skin, I felt a
tingling sensation which sent a shiver through out my body. I sat at the edge
of my bed, wearing only the bra and panties. I remember the internal stirring
I felt in anticipation of what this evening would bring. The desire within my
groin began to spread upward towards my abdomen, and slowly consumed my mind
and body. Looking at the clock, I knew I had time to lie back and give in to
my yearnings.

I remember, lying on my bed, the coolness of the silk bra stimulating
my breasts. I remember thinking of the pleasures I have come to enjoy in
private moments of solitude. I remember slowly sliding my fingers under my bra
and caressing my breast, slowly kneading the nipple, gently rubbing it between
my fingers. I remember closing my eyes and letting my mind ease into the
pleasure my caresses were creating. I remember becoming aroused, as my other
hand slipped under my bra, and I caressed both my breasts. I thought of the
pleasures I experienced as I massaged my hardened nipples between my fingers.

A crackle of a burning log returned me to the present. The thoughts
of this afternoon, along with the effects of the wine began to have an effect
on me. I could feel myself becoming aroused. As I looked into the fire, I
felt the familiar yearning deep in my groin. My breasts began to ache, as my
nipples engorged and hardened. I tightly crossed my thighs and began a gentle
rhythmic tensing of my pelvis. I could feel the moistness forming within the
lips of my vagina. I looked up at him, he seemed preoccupied with the fire,
unaware of the sexual desires slowly building within me.

Again my thoughts left the present and passed back to this afternoon.
I remembered, as I lay on the bed, reaching down over my pelvis, running my
fingers over my panties. I remembered the moistness of the thin piece of silken
underwear, as I let my fingers slip under the panties. I thought of my moist
vaginal lips, how the wetness felt. I remembered how I slowly began to gently
tease my soaking vagina, the intense feelings as I ran my fingers between the
soft labial folds, carefully sliding along side my swollen clitoris. I remember
gently stroking my clitoris, slowly forming circles around it. I could almost
feel the quivers my throbbing clitoris passed upward into my abdomen during
that afternoon’s pleasures when I brought myself to a very fulfilling orgasm.

I took another sip of wine, and my mind returned to the present. He
looked back at me as he stood before the fire, stoking the logs. A soft smile
appeared upon his lips before he turned back to the fire. I watched him as he
knelt before the fireplace and played with the burning ambers. The glow of the
fire, and the rush of the wine was slowly making my head spin. I could feel the
heat spreading through out my body. In an effort to cool off, I unconsciously
opened the top buttons of my blouse. I felt the coolness of my silk bra upon my
breasts. Through clouded eyes I looked for him. He rose, and walked from the
room, stating the need to get another bottle of wine. I heard his footsteps,
descending the stairs to the wine cellar. There I sat, the warmth of the fire,
the coolness of my silk undergarments upon my skin, alone.

I closed my eyes, and laid my head back upon the soft cushions of the
couch behind me. My head was spinning, both from the wine and the thoughts of
the pleasures I gave myself earlier. I could still feel the tingling glow from
the orgasm I had this afternoon. Opening my eyes, I starred at the burning
logs. The warmth of the fire spread up over my chest and radiated up to my
neck. The heat was stirring a desire within me. In a daze, I opened the
remaining buttons of my blouse. The coolness, as the open blouse bared my
chest, stirred me to greater desire. My hand moved again to my chest. I undid
the front clasp of the bra, and let the cups fall away from my breasts. My
fingers reached for my nipple. I began to massage the swollen tip with my thumb
and index finger, and gave in to the pleasure of the moment. My thoughts were
no longer of the pleasures of this afternoon, but rather of the intensity that
was now building deep within my groin. I could feel my nipple hardening as I
continued to massage the tip.

Slowly, my other hand moved towards my breasts. Its fingers reached
for the nipple, and I began to gently massage the hardened nipple between my
thumb and index finger. Both nipples were now engorged and throbbed with
pleasure as my fingers massaged the tips. I moaned softly as the waves of
pleasure my fingers created upon my breasts spread to my pelvis. I was in a
world of my own, concentrating only on the throbbing within my groin & abdomen
as I continued the intense stimulation of my nipples. I crossed my legs and by
tensing my thigh muscles applied a gentle pressure upon my groin. I began to
rock my pelvis, increasing the intensity of the pressure upon my vaginal lips
…End of the part1. To be continued..

HitchHiker Lisa

Administrator — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 09:44:01 +0000

It was all just too obvious, too pat.

But I did stop. I haven’t picked up a hitchhiker since I was in
college. I always figured that a cute girl standing by the side
of the road with her thumb in the breeze had to have a 250 pound
boyfriend in the bushes, ready to commandeer my car at
knifepoint.

I can see from a distance that you are cute, your long brown hair
whipping about your face in the wind. As I drive closer, I can
see your faded cutoffs, cut so short that the cheeks of your ass
are peeking out invitingly.

You are wearing a pale yellow t-shirt, the veteran of many
washings, faded to the color of tapioca. Your breasts,
unencumbered by a bra, poke proud erect nipples at all who pass
by. Even from a distance I can see the dark circles through the
thin shirt.

You are smiling.

I stop next to you and roll down the window.

“Where are you headed?”

“It doesn’t really matter. Can you take me?”

I swallow. “Sure. Hop in.” You slide into the passenger seat
and I am suddenly conscious of your smell; the smell of sun and
sweat on your buttery skin. I realize that you have slid closer
to me than is really necessary. I swallow again.

“What’s your name?”

“Lisa.” You don’t ask mine. Out of the corner of my eye I can
see your breasts jiggling slightly as we ride. You catch my
sidelong glance and smile slightly. I look away, embarrassed.

“You don’t usually pick people up, do you.” It is a statement,
not a question. I look back at you, more directly this time, and
see that you have turned ever so slightly towards me, and have
inched almost imperceptibly closer. I feel my mouth go slightly
dry. I cannot keep from looking at your breasts.

I begin to imagine…No! Things like this just don’t happen!
There is always a catch. I feel a light sweat on my upper lip.
I roll down the window. We ride for a moment in silence.

You cross your legs and you have moved slightly closer. Your
left hand is on the seat next to your thigh. With another
sidelong glance I can see that the top button on your cutoffs is
undone. Was it like that before? I realize that you are looking
intently at my face. Do you see what I am thinking?

If I move the slightest bit, I am sure my erection will burst
through my pants. So I sit very still and drive carefully and
slowly. Suddenly I realize I am going barely twenty miles per
hour. It seems as though we are barely moving; the fields to
each side of us creep by.

There is a wide spot ahead, next to a broad expanse of tall
grass.

“Could we stop for a bit?” you ask.

“If you like,” I reply, sure that you can hear my heart pounding.

We stop and you are out of the car, skipping through the tall
grass of the field laughing and turning around, your eyes
sparkling. Cautiously I follow you. You come back to me,
breathless, your sun-sweat smell nearly overpowering me.
Watching you in the grass I am nearly overcome with desire and I
and I can think of nothing but you.

You stand very close to me, looking up into my face. The impish
smile nearly disappears as you stand very close to me, searching
my face. I stroke your cheek with my palm and gently bend down
to kiss your soft, full lips. Suddenly your arms are around me,
your mouth wide open, tongue probing. Your body presses
insistently against me, your hands are moving up and down my
back, stroking my ass and the backs of my thighs. I am certain
my body is going to explode.

Suddenly you stop. You draw slightly away from me. Your cheeks
are slightly flushed, and you are breathing heavily through
parted lips. Your firm breasts strain against the flimsy t-
shirt, erect nipples challenging me. You cross your arms and
reach slowly for the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your
head.

Your breasts, now free in the warm sunshine, invite me. I catch
my breath, a half sob, really, as I gaze at you there. You come
to me again and take my head in both your hands, drawing my mouth
first to one breast, then the other. Greedily I run my tongue
over the nipples, feeling them harden at the touch. You pull my
head harder to you, as though you want me to devour you. I am
aware of the salty-sweet taste of your sweat. Your breast fills
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Fixing Vixen

Administrator — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 09:29:02 +0000

Sunset on the Atlantic… What a beautiful sight! The rays from
behind me as I gazed out over the water glimmered off the water,
shimmering on the waves. I was sitting on the deck of my beach
condo, sipping (ironically) a Tequila Sunrise and listening to a CD
of my favorite music from the sixties. I probably had the music
playing too loud, but no one was complaining, so I left it on high.

I heard something on the beach below me and looked over the
railing of the deck. A beautiful lady in her early 30’s was dancing
by herself to the sounds coming from above. She was quite a good
dancer and obviously enjoying her solitary dancing, unaware that
anyone was watching. She moved and swayed to the sounds of “When A
Man Loves a Woman” by Percy Sledge, lost in her memories.

As the final strains of the classic faded, I said, “You dance
divinely, my dear.” She spun her head around, looking for the
speaker; startled. Then as she spun around, she looked up at me and
lost her balance, falling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain as
she twisted her ankle on the unsteady sand.

I ran down the steps to her side. “I am so sorry, I didn’t
mean to startle you,” I told her. “Are you alright?”

“NO, I twisted my damn ankle again,” she replied with a
grimace. “It’s not really your fault. I twisted it a few days ago
and should have known better than to dance on it so soon.”

“Can you walk on it?”

“I don’t think so… I need to put some ice on it.”

“Let me help you up to my apartment; I’ve got an ice pack you
can put on it. It’s the least I can do.”

She stood on her one good leg and put her arm around my
shoulder and tried to hop up the stairs. She was obviously hurting,
so I reached down and picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
She felt good in my arms and I enjoyed the feel of her breast against
my chest. I carried her inside and put her down on the couch; placed
her injured ankle on a pillow and went to get the ice pack.

When I came back, she put her good foot on the floor to give me
room to sit down and tend to her ankle. I gently placed the ice pack
on her foot and let my eyes rum up her bare legs to her cutoff blue
jean-covered crotch. Her legs were spread, and I could see a few
silky hairs peeking from the vee of her sex. I tried not to stare,
but I couldn’t help my self. My eyes traveled on up and I could see
she was not wearing a bra under her tight T-shirt. She was either
horny or cold, because her nipples were as hard as rocks, tenting the
fabric of her shirt. I looked on up into the most beautiful
eyes I had seen in a long, long time. She was smiling slightly.

“Did you enjoy the view?”

“Ah, uh, well, uh… would you like something to drink?” I
stammered, embarrassed at being caught being so obvious.

“Sure,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “Some white wine
would be nice if you have it.”

I stood to go to the kitchen and turned quickly to hide my
growing erection. In the kitchen I reached down and readjusted my
cock. “It ain’t gonna do you any good to get up, boy,” I told it
tersely. “This lady’s hurting and you ain’t got a chance to get any
tonight, so just calm down.” But, as always, he didn’t listen to me.
He had a mind of his own and it was one-track… but at least it
wasn’t so obvious after the adjustment.

I came back into the living room with our drinks and as I
walked toward her she was staring at my crotch. She turned on her
side a bit and patted the couch beside her for me to sit. “You
didn’t answer my question,” she said after she had taken a sip. She
looked at me prettily over the rim of her wineglass. “Did you enjoy
the view? I sure did.”

“I can’t help looking when I am that close to someone as
beautiful as you are,” I replied.

She reached up and pulled my head down to hers. “You’re very
sweet,” she said and kissed me. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“Not yet it isn’t,” she said and kissed me again, running her
tongue deep into my mouth, moaning softly. We kissed passionately
for a few minutes, then I broke the kiss.

“If you don’t watch out, this is going to get out of hand and I
don’t want to hurt your foot.”

“Let me worry about the damn foot,” she replied. “I’ll let you
know if it hurts, you can be sure of that!” And with that, she
reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her
head. She shook her brown curly hair as the shirt came off and
dropped the shirt on the floor. She grabbed my head and drew it to
her breasts. I wallowed my face in those glorious mounds of flesh,
licking and kissing them all over. I ran my tongue around and around
…End of the part1. To be continued..

jenny

Administrator — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 09:10:01 +0000

Archive-author:

Archive-title: Jenny

I had always liked Jenny, though I didn’t know her well personally. We

worked together on the night shift. Us night-timers have a slightly different

perspective on the world that most other people on ‘normal’ shifts. We’re often

driving on streets devoid of life at 3AM, and spend a lot of time at home

because nothing’s open. And then we sleep through the morning, when everybody

else is alive and awake. It’s a very lonely life most of the time.

Jenny suffered from this as much as I. She had come to town almost a year

ago, and because of her hours, she hadn’t had so much as one date in all that

time. Often she would grumble about the lack of a social/sex life. There were

plenty of guys on the night shift, but for some reason she didn’t seem

interested. More than a few of them were interested, though. She stood about 5

foot seven and was rather busty. She was a bit overweight, but not seriously

and I found it quite a turn-on. It made her seem more real, somehow. More than

once I had half-jokingly offered my services, only to be turned down with an

appreciative smile. I could never seem to work up the nerve to come out and ask

her for a date. Mostly it was because I was certain she’d turn me down and

rejection was something I didn’t really care for.

I don’t know what got into me one night. It was a Saturday and we both had

gotten roped into putting in a ‘little overtime’. If you consider 10 hours

‘little’. Anyway, it was about 9PM and we both sat down to lunch. Since there

was no one else there we actually talked to each other. Somehow the

conversation got around to dates, and I asked her just what it was she looked

for in a guy.

“Well,” she said musingly, “looks aren’t all that important, I guess. A good

personality is more important.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Right

now what I would like to find most is somebody who’s good in bed. After a year

of nothing I’m getting kind of, well, itchy.”

My heart gave a jump at that and my temperature rose ten degrees. I got up

to get a cup of coffee from the machine behind her. As I did, I said, “How do

you expect to find somebody like that? Advertise?”

She chuckled. “I can see it now: Lonely woman seeks good fucker. Low pay but

great fringe benefits.”

“Those benefits look pretty good to me.” I said, still standing behind her

and sipping my coffee. My heart had calmed, but I was still tense.

Anticipatory, perhaps. “But seriously, that’s what you’re looking for? Not just

any old guy who can get it up?”

“Uh uh.” She said softly, almost dreamily. “It would be tempting, but hell,

if the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, it just isn’t really worthwhile. Not

for me, anyway. For him it’s probably great.”

The it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Some guys are like that.

They just want to, um, get off and go to sleep. But there are some who are

different, ya know.”

“Oh, really?” she said, still seemingly in a trance.

“Sure.” I said. I put the cup down. “For some of us half the fun is in

making the other person feel good.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, though

…End of the part1. To be continued..

taylor kurtis facial cum movie

Administrator — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 08:38:01 +0000

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julia bond facial cum movie

Administrator — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 09:45:01 +0000

feast your fucking perverted eyes on 18 year old uber-hottie julia bond. julia fuckin bond is the hottest new thing on the porn scene- and we got her just for you, spunkmouth members with a brand spanking new pair of tits, a body to die for and a drop dead gorgeous face.. what the hell is a chick of this caliber doing in porn?!?! i’ll tell you what- she’s getting fucked like a cocktoy by some stranger and licking his cum off a plate! julia didn’t seem to like the cum/plate idea and as you’ll see at the end of the scene- she ended up storming off in a huff. oh well.. nice “meating” you!

angelica lane facial cum movie

Administrator — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 08:24:01 +0000

well, what can i say about porn newbie angelica lane? how about that she’s a fuckin jizz vacuum. a sperm shopvac. a cum swigger. all apt descriptions for this insatiable little hottie. when i first met angelica, i was wondering if she really had what it took to take on the likes of rocker x, spoonie and the two other thugs i had booked for the day. she was polite and demure- a bit girl next doorish. but then something changed once she hit the makeup room. the princess became the whore. the door opened and out strutted a lingerie wearing, made up slut. i sat her down on the couch and did a little chitchat- within seconds i knew the girl had become a complete cockbitch. then in walked rocker and his fuckin buddies and without any cue whatsoever, angelica went straight for his cock and wrapped her lips around it.. the rest was a whirlwind of depravity, and the fucking bucketloads of cum this chick took to her face was goddam amazing. she had to take a shower. she was hosed. obliterated with spunk. and she savored every second of it.. a must see. truly- truly, enjoy.

She Drew Me In

Administrator — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 08:46:01 +0000

– a poem -

by Sean Devon

I awoke to music, talk and laughter
Fuzzy toward the toilet and relief
My parent’s late party smoldered on below
Old friends, new gossip, old jokes
Returning now, our guest room door agar
What’s there…peeking…who’s there?

By night light and moon, soft blonde curls abed
But who…Mrs. Taylor…Ann…a beauty
My favorite parent’s friend…warm…funny…and more
When she asked, she seemed to want to know
Her sleeping drew me closer…and excited

On the chair her clothes…a sparkling gown
Lace brassiere…and, mmm…her perfume
Dark stockings and high-heeled shoes…red
I lift a shoe and smell her…mixed with leather
It is still warm, it rubs my face

There…underneath…some dark lace
Hoping…carefully pulling…oh, yes it is!
My heart beats as I turn this garment right
I lightly touch the silk and cotton center band
Still moist…so recent at her core, I shiver

This perfume more powered than her spray
Her pungent musk so drew me close
My knees weak, I rubbed it with my face
Awake below in my PJs, I rubbed there too
On that cloth, a small drop of mine mixed with hers

A quiet moan started me!…but Ann still slept
I watched the sheet’s soft rise and fall
Touch? Could I touch her? She drew me in
Closer…her breathing…fluttering lashes
My hand shaking…but proceeding

Like a butterfly I landed on a hill
Her breathing pushed my fingertips
I looked her face for signs, then landed more
Under cotton she gave way beneath my touch
So soft, I danced across this mound

See? Could I see these? She drew me in
I eased the sheet so slow across her
Almost done…she moved…and made a sound
I froze…then…all calm, pulled again…and then
Marvelous proud puddings stood in the night

I know now, the sheet had done its work
Like little berries atop dessert, they stood
Between my fingers they were soft…but firm
Rolling…she gently twists and moans soft
Squeezing…she sucks a breath…and rises up

Brazen now, I pull each up to teepees
My Ann makes her lips to whistle
But only sucks a breath…and moans light
I suck one in…and tongue.
But now she serious moans …and rolls!

Quick, I jump! She rolls…and back
She’s again same, but soft legs apart
Can I see more? She draws me in.
I slide the sheet down her tummy…rise and fall
Her hips flair wide…and, oh…soft hair

I make through her silky tuft…and again
A closer look between…thick lips…and warm musk
In these lips, two more…and wet…and, oh!
So soft! Oh, like liquid silk…mmmm
She sweet moans…and moves…against

I slide in…and more…and deep
So soft…and out…then deep again
She hums low now and rolls her hips
Another? Can I use another? She draws me in
My second finger rubs a little nub…she jumps

I rub again…and she again…and moans
I squeeze my new friend and her lip bites
Taste? Can I taste her? She draws me in
Up my finger full with juice and
Taste her toxic lust and…need more

Sheet away. Careful as a panther now,
I crawl ‘tween milky thighs
My Ann, sleeping still, lifts a leg…slowly
I move very in…in close
Her thick vapors make me swoon

I gently tongue a lip…and hear a moan
Deeper now…and there’s my friend
So hard and soft…I feel Ann quake
I flick again…and now she moves…
To give me more…and more

I cup soft cheeks of this warm chalice
And lift it, more to drink…and deep
Tasting lust, I go for more…and more
Her molten lips caress my face
And soft hairs tease my nose

Sleepy fingers in my hair. Oh,
She’s now a ship on rising waves
Each roll portends a storm
I can’t be in her far enough
Nor drink her nectar dry

I am now deaf!…in velvet vise!
Sweet Ann’s is turned to iron!
My hair is coming out by roots
My breath’s no longer mine
I struggle to escape, but love just where I am

My gasps are buried deep in her
And hers I cannot hear
As stars appear, my root expels…
Its warm and sticky seed, and now…
Just in time, I am at both ends released!

I gasped and breathed a ragged tune
Sweet Ann, she sang the same
I held her tight and one last time
Did wash in her sweet broth
Then, tenderly, away

Breakfast already on below
Bacon scent and voices came
I heard her voice…warm…luxurious
Hands over my face…she was still there
Wanting to go…and not, I dressed

“Sean, be a dear and take the trash.”
“Yes, Mom.” Then, I dared to look
She smiled at me, “Morning, Sean”
Nervous, “Morning, Ms. Taylor.”
I grabbed the trash and fled

I did the trash, and through a window
“Ann, how do you do it? You look…well…”
“What, Marian?” “Well…almost radiant!”
“Well, thanks! I did turn in early, you know.”
“Well, that must have been it” “Oh, it was Marian. It was!”

I could feel her smiling
I smiled for years

The Photographer

Administrator — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 08:59:02 +0000

The classified ad in the paper hadn’t said much. Just “Model
wanted. Young, noticably pregnant a requirement. PO Box 2347″. Seeing
as you fit the description, you wrote an introductory letter and sent
it in. A few days later, the phone rang. The man on the other end
introduced himself as David and asked to set up a meeting. He said he
would pay you for your time. Since you needed the money, you agreed to
meet him at his studio Friday evening at eight.

Now you are standing at his door, looking for the bell. It is a
large steel sliding door on the upper floor of an old warehouse
downtown. Clearly, David’s studio is in a loft. You finally just knock
on the door. A moment later, the door slides open and light from the
hall spills across a hardwood floor. The studio is dimly lit and you
can’t see anyone there.
“Hold on, let me get the lights,” you hear a voice say.
Suddenly, bright overhead lights come on, exposing the entire loft. You
walk in and look around. David is standing there, smiling.
“You must be Trish,” he says.
“Uh, yeah. You must be David,” you reply, slightly uncomfortable.
David is about six feet tall, a good eight inches taller than
you. He has short black curly hair and a young but weatherbeaten face
that has crinkles at the eyes and mouth. You can tell that he laughs a
lot. He has a well toned and muscled body; you can see his wide chest
straining at the black commando’s sweater he’s wearing. He has on a
baggy pair of black fatigue trousers. His bare feet even look strong;
his toes grip the floor as he walks.
The loft studio is much nicer than you expected, given the looks
of the building outside. The front of the loft is obviously David’s
apartment. The kitchen is set aside from the rest of the room by a
wrap-around countertop. It sits to the right of the door. The door
itself is halfway between the front and back walls. The furniture is
comfortable and modern. There is a long couch that surrounds a coffee
table in front of a fireplace. The entire front wall is glass, looking
out over the city. On the far wall is a raised platform with steps
leading up to it. On top of the platform, which sits six feet high,
is a waterbed. Off to one side of the platform is a bathroom. Oddly,
there are no walls around it. It’s shielded from the front windows by
the bed platform, but it is open to the rest of the apartment. There’s
a sink, cabinet, mirror, commode and an old iron free-standing bathtub.
The walls are brick, from the floor to eight feet up. Then the
walls are white up to the 15 foot ceiling. The ceiling is white too,
and track lights reflect off of it to fill the room with a soft glow.
“Tea?” David is standing in the kitchen holding a pot.
“Please,” you respond, walking along the brick walls, looking at
the pictures hanging there. Many are covers from famous magazines.
Many others are pictures of nature scenes. Sprinkled among them are
pictures of women in seductive poses, or wearing suggestive clothing.
David sets your tea down on the table and invites you to have a
seat. He walks to the wall and turns a dimmer switch, dimming the
lights to a dull glow. “There’s a storm coming; I want to watch it.”
You look out the window and see flashes of lightning. David
retreives his own tea from the kitchen and sits sideways on the couch,
facing you.
“Tell me about yourself,” he asks quietly.
You tell him about your school and your hobbies. He has a lot
to talk about; seemingly, he has an interest in everything. You talk
about accounting and running. You talk about swimming and skydiving.
You watch the storm. David has a quick smile and a gentle laugh and
after a couple of hours you feel very comfortable with him. He keeps
you teacup filled.
“You have neat pictures,” you say after talking for a few hours.
David smiles a thanks. “Let’s go take some pictures.” He
stands up and offers you his hand.
You take his hand and stand up. David leads you by the hand
back into the dark back half of the loft. He reaches out and turns a
switch someplace and a few lights come on. There are strobes with
reflectors lined up neatly along the wall. There is black shag carpet
on part of the floor and white on another. David leads you over to the
black carpet and sits you down in the middle.
You watch as David turns to a control panel on the wall. The
lights come up further, including some focused on you, and soon you are
at the center of attention. David opens a cabinet and takes out a
camera. He sits down on the floor in front of you and takes a few
pictures. “Good choice of clothes,” he mentions between shots.
You are wearing a white maternity shirt with a bright yellow
maternity jumper over it. You feel the warmth of the lights on you as
David moves around, photographing you from different angles. Every so
often, he reaches out and adjusts your position, moving a hand here or
adjusting the angle of your head there. He sets you so your one leg is
drawn up with the other crossed under it. He places your hands on your
knee and rests your chin on your hands. Oddly, your heart beats harder
as he moves your body around and you find yourself admiring the fluid
grace with which David moves.
David takes a few more pics in that pose and has you lean back
on your hands. Your breath catches in your throat as he unbuttons one
shoulder strap on your jumper and re-adjusts it so the front left corner
is hanging down, showing the swollen curves of your enlarged breast
through the shirt. David leans back and takes a few more pictures. He
pauses and sets the camera down on the carpet. He slides over next to
you and puts his hand on your raised knee and squeezes it.
“Are you doing ok,” he asks.
Your heart is pounding and you can’t seem to catch your breath.
You feel beads of sweat break out across your stomach and legs. You
realize that his touch and his closeness have aroused you considerably;
you can feel your damp cotton lace panties rubbing against your thigh.
You manage a breathy yes.
David smiles. “Good.” Never breaking eye contact with you,
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Julie

Administrator — Fri, 22 May 2009 08:59:02 +0000

I was at a local topless dance bar with a buddy of mine. I was kind of
a regular there, coming in about once a month or so. One of the reasons I was
a regular was sitting on my lap at the moment. Her name was Julie, and she
worked most Saturday nights, which was when I usually came in. Naturally she
was very pretty, blonde, tanned, slender, with small breasts (but real and
nicely shaped), great legs, and an ass to die for.

On top of the very nice physical package she was friendly, chatty and gave
a WONDERFUL lap dance. She touched as much as the law would allow, and maybe a
bit more. And as time had gone on (this was the sixth time I had come in
during the past 5 months) her dances for me had gotten just a little more
risque, a little hotter, a little more daring. She let me touch her back quite
a bit too, but I was always careful not to go over the line. It was still
great. She also gave lip-kisses. Most of the girls would only give you a
little nip on the cheek. Little details like that mean a lot to me.

Anyway, we were there and my buddy got up to go to the restroom. As he
walked away, I sighed, considering the fact I only had $22 bucks left of the
$130 I had started with, and observed that it was unfortunate the evening was
going to have to end fairly soon.

“How come?” Her voice wasn’t bad either, not the gravelly, husky female
voice that made me melt, but pretty nice all the same.

I explained the money thing. I usually got 4 or 5 (3 or 4 from her)
dances and 3-4 overpriced drinks when I came in. She knew my limits, but
I’d only had two of her dances tonight — she had been with other customers.

She leaned down with her lips to my right ear and pressed her warm soft
cheek to mine. I loved it when she did that. She did it quite a bit.

“Who says it has to end?” she asked softly.

That raised my eyebrows. She never pushed me to haul out my plastic for
her, never pushed period. A rarity, and yet another thing I liked about her
(you’re gonna be sick of all the little details I liked about this woman before
I’m done).

That left one possibility, one I’d never seriously considered before. It
was against club policy for dancers to go out with customers. Naturally the
owners were afraid of getting nailed for pimping or something, or even being
innocent bystanders in a prostitution scandal. But it sure sounded like she
was proposing a little after-work get-together. So the questions were 1) Is
she a cop? or 2) Is she a hooker?

I craned my neck around to look her in the eyes, and she shifted slightly
to help me out.

“Care to elaborate on that?” I asked.

She smiled impishly and leaned forward. Her hair spilled around our faces
and I could smell her breath. It was sweet from the call drinks we’d both had.
She touched her forehead to mine and whispered, “You’re always really sweet.
You’re friendly and you don’t try to pull a big come-on. I like that a lot.
I’d also like to spend the rest of the night with you. No strings, just fun.”
She leaned back to gauge my reaction.

She needn’t have bothered. My cock had gotten rock hard in seconds, and
as I stared back, trying to formulate a witty assent worthy of James Bond, she
pressed her leg into my erection, waggled her eyebrows suggestively and said “I
think I’ve got a ‘yes’ here.” I grinned at her and we made plans hurriedly
before my buddy came back from the restroom.

To shorten things a bit, let’s just say that it required a bit of timing
and my dashing about at high speed in my Grand Prix to get me separated from
my buddy (luckily he lived nearby) and back with Julie without her fellow
club workers noticing. Her apartment was much closer than mine, so we headed
there. I was as excited as all hell, but during the short trip alone back to
the club, I resolved that since she was giving me the most princely gift of her
beautiful body, I had to see to it that she enjoyed this evening as much as
possible. It would be my gift to her.

We had a difficult time getting into her apartment. We kept stopping
every few steps and kissing strongly. For a long time I had desired to *really*
kiss her, as opposed to the brief ones we were allowed at the club. She would
press her warm body up against mine and move up and down, stroking me with
her entire self, while our tongues “dueled like soft, moist sabers” (I’ve
always liked that line). It was wonderful, but I restrained myself as much as
possible. Crazy animalistic sex would be great, but it wasn’t what I wanted
to do for her right now. I wanted to add in a lot of tease, to make her beg
for release, to drive her crazy. I’m no Don Juan, but on the few occasions
I’d had opportunity to do this in the past, my partners were always VERY grate-
ful.

Finally, we staggered into the bedroom. She’d lost her top and I my
shirt. We flopped onto the bed, still kissing madly, but I’d managed to slow
the pace down to just intense instead of wild. Stroking her smooth back, I
eased her onto her stomach and moved up to whisper in her ear.

“Just relax for a while and let me do the work. Let it be my thanks for
your having me over.” Yeah, yeah, “having me over” isn’t all that romantic
sounding, but I didn’t want to get really gushy and say “make love”, and “have
sex” seemed *much* too cold.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred, and smiled sexily, settling onto the bed with a cute
wiggle. I took that as a “yes”, as I reached over and turned on a small lamp.
The light was subdued but ample. Excellent.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Janis sex tales

Administrator — Tue, 12 May 2009 09:47:01 +0000

The alarm was terribly loud as she tried to find it in the room. She hated
waking up in a strange place because she wasn’t sure where everything was.
She looked around for her lover but he was no where to be seen. She wondered
if she had just dreamed what had happened last night, but the stiffness in her
abdomen and soreness in her pussy told her it had been real.

“When did he leave?”, she wondered. Suddenly, the phone rang. “This is your
wakeup call,” she heard him say softly. Her pussy was instantly wet at the
sound of his voice. “God, that was good last night,” she whispered. “I love
you,” she blurted out. “You kind of drifted off to sleep so quickly, I
thought I should leave you alone for the night,” he said. “I’m going down to
breakfast now – I would wait for you but I think that you had better get a
move on if you are going to show up in the workshop in time.” he said. She
glanced at the clock and saw he was right. “What time did you leave?” she
asked. “Oh, it was around 2 or so, but you were sound asleep. Did I tell you
that you snore?” he teased. “I do not,” she giggled.

She wanted to hug this man right now but he was on the telephone and she knew
she had to get ready for her work. “I’ll see you in the classroom,” he said.
“You think you can keep your eyes open all day?” he asked. She giggled as he
hung up the phone, but wondered if she would have a problem. She was used to
the 8 to 5 routine but staying up ’til 2, with plenty of the right kind of
exercise, may take its toll. “We’ll have to see,” she thought to herself!

She hung up the phone and headed for the shower. It felt good to have the
warm water rush over her body. As she soaped her body, she thought over last
night’s activities. She knew how wonderful he had made her feel and she began
to think about her husband and children. “How could I do this to Ray,” she
thought. “He’s such a wonderful man and Tommy and Billy – if I would have to
give them up……. Oh God, how can I be so careless?”

She toweled herself dry and began to dress for the day. She suddenly realized
that she was tired; “Oh cripes, and I have to go through this whole day
feeling like this!” she thought to herself. She finished dressing, picked up
her stuff for the meeting and left for the meeting room. Fortunately, it was
in the motel and she dropped by the office for a cup of coffee from the
Continental Breakfast they had set up. She saw some of the food there and
quick grabbed a sweet roll to have with her coffee at the meeting. She
quickly walked down the corridor to the main meeting room.

As she entered, she looked for a familiar face. The meeting had just begun
and the 500 or so attendees were mostly in place. A vacant chair presented
itself in the back row and she slipped in there to prevent disturbing anyone.
As she sat down, she glanced to her right and noticed that she was sitting
next to a tall, trimly shaped blonde lady whom she had really never met but
whose name was quite familiar to her, Garolynn Warren. Garolynn was extremely
attractive, divorced with one child, and eagerly sought after by most of the
men in the agency. Although Janis didn’t know for sure, it was rumored that
she had an occasional affair with different men from time to time.

She found herself a bit jealous of Garolynn because of her beauty and, as she
thought about it, her apparent freedom to have an affair if she so desired.
She knew Garolynn was originally from Montana and wondered if she knew Peter.
“I wonder if she and Peter have had an affair?” she said to herself,
unconsciously. She began to feel a little more jealous just thinking about
it.

Soon it was time for a break and she introduced herself to Garolynn.
Recognizing her position in agency, Garolynn asked if she knew Peter. “Why
did she ask me that?” Janis thought and replied that she had met him once when
he came to the home office to work on some problems. “Well, he sure has been
asking some interesting questions around here,” Garolynn replied, “Besides,
he’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” “What kind of questions?” Janis asked,
choosing to ignore the second part of the question. “Oh, like who’s in charge
and what their qualifications are, what they know about automation, and stuff
like that!” Garolynn replied. “Its refreshing to have people ask those kind
of questions, isn’t it?” Garolynn asked. “Yes,” Janis replied. She notice
that Garolynn was dressed well and had a full bust. She also noticed that she
was more than interested in Peter, which was raising the feelings of jealousy
that Janis found herself harboring.

“Ssssooooo, you can’t make it to class on time,” she heard his soft voice
behind her. “I…. have you met Garolynn Warren,” Janis asked. “Yes, we have
met at a couple of meetings, but I doubt that she remembers me,” as he took
Garolynn’s hand. They shook hands and Garolynn looked him right in the eyes.
Janis could see the flash of electricity pass as Garolynn passed on some small
pleasantries. Since this break signaled the adjournment of the large meeting
into several smaller meetings, Peter suggested that he accompany Janis to the
meeting they were holding. They both bade a “See you later,” to Garolynn and
moved off toward the smaller meeting room.

“What are you my brother’s keeper,” Janis snapped. “Whoa,” he stammered, “I
apologize for whatever!” “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “Garolynn was talking
about you and I got a little jealous.” “Jealous? What for?” he asked “I
hardly know the woman – I mean I know who she is but I think this is the first
time that I have actually spoken to her. Good grief – get a grip.” “I said I
was sorry,” she said looking into his eyes. “Ok, ok – apology accepted,” he
whispered, “Can I kiss you here or would over there be better!” She was taken
back by this proposal but quickly realized that he was being facetious -
enough so that she knew he genuinely accepted her apology and held no ill
feelings. “You’re so damn cocksure of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Hell, no,” he replied “But if it looks that way, far be it from me ever
telling anyone different!”

The rest of the day went by quickly, although Janis began to feel as if she
was going to drop by about 3pm. She grabbed another cup of coffee and in
about 15 minutes began to feel as if she was going to make it through the day.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Boredom of Jack and Jill

Administrator — Sat, 09 May 2009 09:05:01 +0000

Jack spotted Jill at the party. She had a bland face, medium
small breasts, and fair skin. He would have called it pale, but
he was feeling charitable. He decided that she was just ugly
enough that she would probably be desperate, and just good look-
ing enough that she would probably be an OK lay.

“Hey babe, want to dance?” he asked, in a melancholy voice.

“Sure, why not?” she said.

So they began to dance. She wasn’t a great dancer. She just
kind of kept shaking her arms and legs the same way, over and
over again. After a while, he felt the way you feel after you’ve
seen the same commercial too many times, that feeling of “Oh, I
know what is going to happen next, but my brain is too dead to
care.” Ho hum, he thought. But he knew that you had to dance at
least three dances with a woman before you could seduce her, so
he tolerated it.

The second dance was even more boring than the first. The music
switched from rock to reggae, but her dancing hardly changed at
all. He started counting beer cups in people hands, while he
danced, just for something to do. He had counted 112 by the time
the dance ended. “Great, only one more dance to go, he thought.”

The next dance was a slow dance. A lot of parties never put on
slow dances, but this one did, and Jack was very happy, because
he didn’t think he could take a third fast dance with her monoto-
nous rhythm.

He looked at her, when the slow music started, wondering if she
was ready for slow dancing. She had that same look in her eyes
that he had seen hundreds of times before, that look that says
“Go ahead, put your arms around me and start dancing. Have I got
something better to do?” So he did. And her rhythm was defi-
nitely different this time, finally. Now, she basically just
stood there, kind of wobbling back and forth a little. And now
he realized how much he hated slow songs, because they just went
on, and on. It was a slow love song, just like so many love
songs he had heard before. This one was worse than many, howev-
er, because it was one of the ones that was currently getting too
much play on the radio.

Finally, the song ended, and, holding her hand, he led her off
the dance floor. He tried to think of a clever line, but then
decided he didn’t need one. “Hey, what’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Jill,” she said.

“Yah, and I’m Jack.” They would have laughed, but both of them
had heard so many Jack and Jill jokes in their lives, that nei-
ther even found this real life coincidence at all funny.

‘So, I bet now he’s going to ask me to go for a walk with him.
Why do guys always use the same lines?’ she thought to herself.

“So, Jill, want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful evening.”

‘Well,’ she thought, ‘at least a walk will be more fun than this
party. I wonder why all parties seem alike? The only thing
which wasn’t totally average about this party was the slow dance,
and I don’t even like to slow dance.’ “Sure,” she said, “where
are we going to walk to? Your place, I suppose, right?” She’d
been asked on too many walks not to already know the destination.

“Yah,” he said.

Now that she was pretty sure he wanted to seduce her, she decided
to appraise him. 5′ 9″, brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly
athletic or well dressed; but no body odor, no zits, and his hair
was combed. She would take what she could get. “Let’s go.”

The walk to Jack’s place was too long. The party had been at one
of the river houses, but both Jack and Jill lived in the Quad,
away from the main campus. They had gone up to the river houses
because, as usual, the quad was dead that weekend: only one
party, and it was lame. They walked up Garden Street, back to
Currier House. It was a walk both of them took every day, at
least twice a day, and both of them found it pretty wearying by
now. They went through the standard conversation about majors,
year of graduation, etc. but neither was really paying atten-
tion; they had asked and answered the questions so many times
before.

When they got back to Jack’s room, Jill was not very impressed.
Currier was one of the newer, more modern dormitories, and all of
the rooms were pretty similar. Jack had not done much to distin-
guish his.

“So,” Jill said, “how do you usually seduce women?” She was
feeling very direct.

“Usually, I try something with backrubs, but the last ten women
I’ve seduced, I’ve given backrubs, and I’m tired of it What do
guys usually try on you?”

“They usually ask me if I want a backrub,” she said.

There was what would have been an awkward pause, if either of
them had really cared. Jack tried to think of something more
interesting than a back rub He considered nude twister, but
wasn’t quite sure how someone would go about playing that exact-
ly, without a third person to spin the spinner. He thought about
getting out his copy of the 5000 question purity test, but found
himself falling asleep at just the thought.

Finally, he said “Want a back rub?”

“Sure,” she said, lying down on his bed.

Slowly, he massaged her back, through her shirt. After about ten
minutes, her shirt started to ride up, intentionally, and he
began to actually massage her skin directly. Eventually, he
began massaging around her bra strap, and then clumsily unsnapped
it.

‘Thank God,’ she thought. It was taking forever. He gave an
average backrub, but she had never really been into back rubs
anyway. Eventually, his hands went lower and lower, and he was
touching the sides of her breasts, and then the front, and then
the nipples. ‘Pretty predictable,’ she thought.

Finally, she turned over, and they began kissing, and undressing.
She had a mediocre body, too much flab, but so did he. Neither
of them became particularly passionate, but both found the caressing vaguely enjoyable.

Slowly, his hand worked its way down to her vagina, and it was,
of course, slightly moist. He fingered her and sucked her tits
for a few minutes. Then, foreplay out of the way, he put on a
condom, and they had sex in the missionary position. He wasn’t
very good, not giving enough clitoral stimulation. She decided
to just lie back, and think of England. She had never been
there, so there wasn’t very much to think about, but it was more
interesting than the half hearted attempts of Jack, lying on top
of her. Eventually, Jack sped up his pumping. Faster and fast-
er. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘he’s almost finished.’ When he came,
spurting into the condom for a few seconds, she faked her orgasm.
He wasn’t fooled by her faking, but he didn’t really care.

jenny

Administrator — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 09:54:02 +0000