Well, Rob woke me up Sunday morning with a hardon and let me tell you that I was really enjoying our newly exciting sex life! We had been married for a few years and after the first we had slowly reduced our sexual encounters over the years, just like most other married couples. I had no interest in being a "hot wife" or screwing around and I really didn't think Rob had any ideas along that line but he seemed to really be getting off on displaying me.
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It felt so very good to be really clean, squeaky clean as her Mom used to say when she was a little girl. Louise could have stayed in the hot biting shower for hours and let the wonderful water stream over her body. It had been more than a week since she had last showered and had the opportunity to wash her short brown hair. It was a wonderful public service that the church shelter offered to the homeless. She wished that she came in to take advantage of it every day as it made her feel so much better about herself.
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It was my dislike of hotels that was the problem. I was in the process of changing residences. I'd sold my current house, but the sale went through a lot faster than I'd expected. I'd assumed that it would take a while for my old place to sell and I expected to have actually moved into my new house before the sale was finalised.
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Hi, this is just a one-shot. I hope it's an entertaining scene/scenario, although it's probably totally unrealistic. But that's the beauty of fantasy... enjoy, and please rate and review, I love all the feedback I get, good or bad!
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On the outside I've never been weird in any way. I'm popular, with girls and guys. I have normal interests. I go to parties, get drunk, have fun, have normal relationships. I could have sex, normal sex, and enjoy it a normal amount.
But it is only when I think about rape that I really start to feel that heat like nothing else. A hollow aching inside me, yearning to be filled.
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One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.
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Julie Fry sat in her office, with the door closed, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Her world had come crashing down around her ears that morning, and she was not sure what she could do about it.
As the Accounting Manager for Larsen Construction, she had, for the last 3 years systematically embezzled over $150,000. Phony invoices, from phony companies, the checks all ending up in her husband's bank account. She had, like all criminals, assumed that she would never get caught, but she was wrong.
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It was safe to say the WPC Barbara Hardy was not a well liked woman. Not by her family (who had all but disowned her), not by her colleagues (who she had managed to either get up the noses of, fall out with or try to get into trouble) and certainly not with the criminal community in Preston. She was good at her job though, very meticulous and officious and liked to not give anyone an inch if she could help it.
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I would say that I’m your normal everyday-working housewife. Jeff and I have been married for just over ten years. We got Married young at age 18 right after High School. As of right now we have no children. We are both 28 years old. My measurements are 34C-24-34 at 5’2” and 114lbs. I also have shoulder length blonde hair. We have all the gym equipment a person needs in the basement. So it makes it real easy for me to stay in shape right here at home. Let me see, what more should I tell you about myself?
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He watches me bathe every night. My alone-time is limited now ever since I cut myself badly with a razor. I hoped it would be enough to take me to the hospital, that he would freak out, but I was wrong.
He stands against the counter with his arms crossed and his eyes hooded. The steam from the tub mists the bathroom and his black clothes are imposing in the fog. Someone else would assume he is aloof, disinterested. Maybe even bored.
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