Working in construction for so long I've been able to work my way up to foreman; which in my case, basically means that I point out what others are to do and I don't do much physical labor anymore. I've been doing this, with the same company, for almost twenty years now, starting when I was just seventeen. I've been able to keep myself in great shape, physically and sexually. It's no secret that there's a special category for construction workers in a lot of women's, and men's, fantasy worlds. I've been able to take advantage of a lot of a lot of those feelings over my career and I hoped to keep it up as long as I could. After all, I'm only thirty-six years old; I expect to be able to fuck like a madman for another few decades.
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You and I are both in our senior year at a small university in New York. We had been going out for a year and a half and had been renting an apartment together off campus for the past few months. About a year ago we began experimenting more when it came to sex. We had stumbled across the idea of BDSM and both found that we liked it. You are naturally commanding and protective of me. I am naturally eager to please, and have always had a slight masochistic streak. We treated it as a game, playing often, but never for extended periods of time.
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Why did I wait so long to clean the house? Nikki could be arriving at any time. At least the dirty clothes were out of the dryer, folded, hangered, and out of the way. When you work full-time, with a part-time job, there never seems to be enough time to get caught up on the stuff that a woman will immediately notice. Fortunately, Nikki understands and forgives my controlled messiness. She never fails to mention that I am too old to properly keep a house and should hire a maid. But, I would have to seriously clean before allowing a stranger to see my clutter.
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Eva looked out her bedroom window. She had heard the gate to her driveway being opened. It was Jim, the son of her best friends Alice and Mike, arriving to mow her lawn.
Eva was a fifty five year old widow, living alone on the outskirts of a small college town. Her husband Eddy had passed away three years previous.
Eva was only now beginning to pick up her life following the death of her soul mate. God knows what would have happened to her without the support of her friends and their son Jim.
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'Should I send him a picture of my ass or my tits?' Kayla thought to herself. She stood and looked to the mirror on the wall between the dorm room beds. She admired her own body, grabbing her breasts over her spaghetti strap top. Chris was definitely a tits guy.
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I was nervous in the car as he drove to the club. Steven picked out my clothes – a very sheer yellow tank top with a short denim skirt. My hair, long, dark red, and curly, is framing my heavily made up face. He told me to put a 'sluttish' look to my face and smiled at the result. His fingers stroked my thighs the entire ride there and he talked about the fun we'd have.
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The whole of the extended Franks clan had shown up for Christmas Eve. There were Franks from Denver, Franks from Lincoln and Franks from Kansas City. Ironically there were no Franks from Frankfurt, Connor figured they couldn't make it. Not that it mattered to him, less Franks meant less people to point and whisper.
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Parker saw him walk into the hardware store again and work his way around the outer aisle. Parker was helping a customer pick out paint and wondered if the good-looking man would work his way over to Parker's station, being attracted to Parker, or if this was the hardware store he had always come to and Parker just hadn't noticed him before his visit the other day.
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I was a freshman in college, a virgin, and as luck would have it sharing the dormitory floor with more females than males. In fact there were two beauties just across the hall from my room that I shared with Kevin Morris, a very religious kid who was penciled in as next year's starting quarterback.
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"Lay down on the bed," she said, standing before me wearing just this little diaphanous garment so thin and short I could see the twin dark circles of her jutting nipples, as well as the gentle flare of her slim hips. Just a hair's breadth below the gauzy hem was the trimmed pubis and sweet pink flesh I wanted to badly to plunder. But not right now. She was in control tonight, and I was doing whatever she said.
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