After Toni's death my life didn't fall apart or anything dramatic like that. I just carried on; locked away deep inside me perhaps were the hurt and the sadness. Annie and Patrick Sanders were good friends and, as they lived a mere two miles away, they kept a bit of an eye on me, I know. They insisted I went round for dinner a couple of times a month.
“Tabitha is such a bitch!!! I hate her so much!” Lilith vented to her best friend, as they walked together.
“Cheer up Lilith, she can’t be that horrendous. But then again, I don’t work with her…” Cary laughed and tossed her golden head. She sucked on the lollipop in her hand.
Katie was kneeling on the floor because her legs were too weak to stand. She was completely naked, and covered with sweat. Every hair on her body tingled, though they were soaked, the hair on her head drenched with sweat, her trim bush glistening and dripping with her own juices. In every direction she looked, there was a big, hard cock being stroked by its owner, five of them in all.
Let me tell you about my infatuation with my paper carrier. Before you start to think of me as some sort of pervert (which I may very well be) my carrier is not a young girl or boy. She is a very attractive woman in her early 40’s. I’ve known her for a number of years, even before she delivered the paper. Janet is very friendly and will always stop and talk for a minute on her route. A couple of times I asked her in and she would sit and visit. Every time she would come in however, my dick would get hard as a rock and I would look like a klutz trying to hide it.
It was nearly pitch dark in the bar, and an air of excitement was palpable in the quiet murmurs of the crowd. Frantic whispers broke out as the emcee stepped to the microphone and the house lights came up. Now you could see the large screens hanging from the ceiling in strategic spots along the room. Now you could see the pommel horse onstage, the examination table with stirrups, the loops and bars and stocks that permitted a variety of bound positions.
My first time with another man.
I have always considered myself straight, my entire life has been consumed by woman, I am attracted to them, I want them, I desire them and I have sex with them. But and this is big but, I have always had a fascination with cocks, ever since the first time I saw one as a teenager in the locker room.
Jenni had come to work at my office as the payroll manager about a year ago. She was in her early thirties, married with a couple of kids. She had silky, straight brown hair, shoulder-length and cut in bangs, green eyes and wore glasses. She was hardly a great beauty, there was something about her face I found attractive.
Let's start with the boring stuff. My name is Caronne, I'm just over six foot and slim, with almost no boobs but large nipples. I have long brown hair that reaches about halfway down my back and hazel eyes. The following is a true story...
I couldn't keep my eyes off of the elegant older woman sitting in the top row of the bleachers at the matinee of the ritzy horse fair.
I also couldn't help but notice that she was making a less than subtle production out of lowering her designer sunglasses and looking me up and down, smiling in a cat-that-wants-to-swallow-the-canary way. Younger women, or at least women who were my age, didn't begin to know how to smile like that.
It was the deep darkness of a moonless night as I crept through the open glass doors from the rooftop patio into the open bedroom. I was barely able to see the bed and slid my feet carefully across the unfamiliar floor as I made my way towards it. Then I froze as I heard the sound of movement, and observed a bunching in the dark shadow of the bed. I hesitated about continuing, not want to be discovered,