My wife and I were looking to expand our sexual horizons. Primarily I was the driver; she seemed fairly satisfied with our relationship and didn't feel the need to do more or anything "crazier." We were fairly adventurous together—including things like sex in public places—and after one crazy night, we added a strap-on dildo (which she used to great effect on me occasionally) to our "toybox."
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You first met him in your psych 201 class even though he was a senior and you were only a sophomore. He sat next to you the very first day and immediately started flirting. You liked it and you liked him.
He was just your type. Strong, tall, athletic. A surfer build and tan skin. Cropped blonde hair and blue eyes. Smitten, you couldn't get enough. For him it seemed like a game, every day he'd flirt and tease you, and every day he'd leave without your phone number or without asking you out.
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Cold rain whipped at the platform, umbrellas held low almost like shields to protect the passengers who waited in the shifting lines to board the train cars. Elizabeth Reynolds, sandwiched between two large men tried to maintain some semblance of propriety but the surging crowd made it impossible not to crush her body up against the man in front of her while the man to her rear fought a valiant, but ultimately unsuccessful battle to keep from pressing his midsection into her curvaceous posterior.
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"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Mark asked, trying not to lose his temper or yell too loud.
"No. I want to meet her."
Mark stared at Codi, incredulous. His mistress was out of her mind. What woman in her right mind would want to meet the wife of the man she'd been fucking for the last eighteen months?
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They were talking about identity, about who we think we are and who we want to be, and whether someone can love you for some trait you don't feel you have, whether it's love if your lover sees you not as you see yourself, but as something else. Can you be loved for some quality you don't think you have? They were talking about identity.
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Another lifetime ago, I was blessed to be in a relationship with an enlightened sexual vixen that helped break me out of the confines of my structured traditional upbringing to explore new terrain in my sexuality. That, and she loved to suck my cock. Really, her oral fixation was what singularly unbound me from a number of sexual fears and associations I had, and helped me find new arenas of pleasure.
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Every time I tried to bring up a Valentines Day date with Chris, somehow we ended up not discussing it. It wasn't that he changed the subject, not at all, but somehow I would look back ten minutes later and realize that we didn't talk about it. It was very sneaky of him, perhaps. Or maybe he just happened to be pretty scatterbrained lately.
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It was finals week. Everyone on campus was in their respective places cramming for exams that would determine where they ranked scholastically. Scholarships were won and lost during this universally stressful time on campus.
I'm not boasting but I love this last two weeks of a semester. It's quiet.
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Mike and Gail were hosting the neighborhood party for their small group of friends. Gail, a senior High teacher was finished for the year. She was happy to be home and know that on Monday when her other friends were on the way to work she would be able to sleep late and spend the day loafing around their back yard pool. She wanted to work on her summer tan.
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All Ron had told me was to meet him in room 109 at the Amerisuites.
I had been emailing Ron back and forth telling him my secrets, my fantasies.
He promised to help me break out of my shyness, and I’d done some things since that I’d never thought I’d do before. After many secrets exposed, Ron convinced me to join him in a private chatroom, where we started to have cyber sex.
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