She was on her knees in front of him, looking upwards, naked, seemingly penitent. His head, thirteen inches from his groin, was resting on her pink lower lip, the weight of it making her pout slightly. She looked apprehensive, she was unused to blowjobs and she didn't really know what to do. He was expressionless, entirely able to suppress the swell of excitement and power that was growing in every fibre of his body.
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Must Love Dogs -- that's what the ad had said, and I do love dogs. But I had no idea that those three words would unlock the door to the strangest sexual adventure of my life.
At the time, the sentence that had really caught my eye was the next one: "Only women need apply." I was no equal rights lawyer, but I was pretty sure employers couldn't discriminate based on sex.
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From the moment I read her ad on the message board I was hooked. Here was a woman who loved the thing I loved most. "GS" or Golden Showers for all not so educated. As I felt myself grow hard from just reading her words, I knew I had to contact her. I sat at my desk and the words on the screen blurred. I was transported back to my first time. I had met June in a bar that I frequented.
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I'm waiting for my wife in the mall, and watching breasts go by. There goes a cheerleader-type babe, now a mature woman whose massive breasts practically say "Ga-BONG, ga-BONG" with each step she takes. I take off my glasses to clean them, but am captivated by the sight of a woman coming this way. Even with my fuzzy vision, my cock is getting chubby from checking out this woman.
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It was early evening and I was sitting in front of the mirror in my bedroom. I was home from college for the first time since the semester started back in September. Looking into the mirror, I asked myself question after question, never answering what I was asking. As I sat there peering into my brown eyes, I tried to figure out who I was and who I was becoming.
After taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I opened them to once again stare into the mirror.
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Hello diary
I've never kept a journal before. With the exception of my best friend,there's no one I can tell what I've done this past week. I figured this would be a perfect time to start writing things down. I think it'll make me feel better.
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You get home from the gym and call out to me that you are going to the shower, and you hear me mumble something back. You think nothing of it, assuming that there was something on TV.
Once you get upstairs you can smell the freesia candles burning. You glance into the bathroom and see it lit up with candles.
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This is a follow-up story to my weekend in Chicago with my husband Steve. He is now my little panty boy and I love the fact that I now have a way to control his sexual arousal. The first week that we returned home from his meeting I had Steve wear new his panties to work under his business suits and because of our shopping trip, he had enough girly panties to get him through the week without having to do laundry.
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I received my invitation from you in the post. I knew it was from you as I recognised your handwriting. It merely gave an address, a date and a dress code. It gave me a few days to prepare.
After much anticipation the night finally arrived. I put on what the instructions told me: high heels, black stockings, a tight black skirt with a white blouse and black bra with a long overcoat on top.
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Michael flew into the small northern town for a two-day conference. A hotel, a travel budget, and a new place to explore, even a small town, was enough distraction to ensure he wouldn't be bored even if Laura hadn't decided to take charge of his evening hours.
Laura met him at the conference on the first day. She was attending as a representative of a local company.
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