Tom
With me being retired and Eileen working part-time in her own business it means we can take advantage of last minute holiday offers if they come our way.
Just over a month ago I bumped into an old work colleague who offered me the use of his apartment in the "Food Capital of Ireland" for a long w/e. He said it might be quiet enough but the restaurants were good, the Guinness excellent, the pubs great crack and the golf courses challenging.
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Jillian was thrilled, thrilled, THRILLED that she'd pulled her grades up and was now getting B+'s, A's and even an A+ on her most recent English essay. She'd worked hard, given up dating and partying – which for an eighteen-year old girl was torture – to achieve these great marks.
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Hannelore Brassenberg was the favorite and youngest daughter of respected Nurnberg architect and inventor Jakob Brassenberg. Jakob's adoration for his daughter was most evident in the generous amount of time he allowed her to remain unmarried. Hannelore's five older sisters all were arranged into marriage by the time they were fifteen years of age. Hanne, as her doting father called her, at eighteen was still at home learning domestic duties from her mother and assisting Jakob in his hobbies of alchemy and medicine.
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Helen was a little surprised when the doorbell rang at precisely nine a.m., exactly when the contractor had told her that the workers would arrive to build her new deck. She was even more surprised when she opened the door and saw two young men who couldn't be more than twenty years old.
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My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)
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I had just received a phone call from the Director of my daughter's summer camp informing me that I had forgotten to pack her allergy medicine and needed to bring it as soon as possible. After I had gotten over the frustration of having to drive three hours to bring the medicine, I showered, put on a floral pattern summer dress and began my drive.
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My story started several years ago when my best mate Phil and I were out having a quiet drink while our wives, Tina and Laura, were on a hen night. The conversation always turned to sex as we both moaned that we never got enough. Our wives used to take our moaning in good spirit as "typical men's moans."
Anyway the conversation this night centred on our drooling over a work colleague of my wife whose legs seemed to go on forever.
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I watched as Diana slipped a short black, wrap-around dress over her head and pulled the belt tight. She was only wearing a tiny pair of wispy black lace panties and sheer thigh-high stockings under the dress.
She sat down next to me and pulled on her matching high heel shoes.
She turned to me and lightly kissed me with her full lips.
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My name is Scott and this story is about the summer after I graduated High school. I had one of the most erotic experiences of my life back then. Like most truly spontaneous adventures, the events of that summer have affected me in a manner, which I am convinced has driven my libido to the point of constant desire to this day.
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It started in the restaurant - two women and a guy - they had found each other through various internet links - friendships had been made - thoughts and fantasies exchanged. There was anticipation in the air - it had taken many months to all get in this booth together.
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