He should really stop staring but no matter what his mind said, his eyes refused to obey. He continued to stare, his eyes caressing the lean hard body. His girlfriend, Melissa, chatted on completely unaware of his fascination.
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I was walking through the streets of the little Central American town, headed to one of its many markets. Founded by the Spanish over 500 years ago, it's nestled in a ring of mostly-dormant volcanoes. You can still see the occasional plume of steam and smoke escaping the crest of one or the other of them.
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Missy is "a giver" - happy to help out, to run an errand, to pitch in when times are tough or just to sit and listen when all that is needed is a shoulder to cry on and the reassurance that one is in the right. That generous nature has its fullest expression when Missy loves. The men in her past life unexpectedly found little bags of their favorite snacks in their brief cases.
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ONE
Sean Lambert and his wife, Amy, were excited about their upcoming trip to a desert resort in Arizona. Over the course of their twenty year marriage, they had always tried to celebrate their milestone anniversaries in a big way. Sean's orthopedic surgery practice was well established so money was never an option.
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Hey Guys!
So I decided to do a cliche. I had an idea and I just liked it. So here goes. Warning: All the characters in this chapter are men.
The Illuminaughty
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My girlfriend and me are a couple of kinky freaks who like to go what we call "slutting". That's when we find ourselves a foxy young babe or two, usually but not always dykes like us, bring them home, and then get real down and dirty until the wee, wee hours of the morning. One night last week we had picked up this delicious looking young lesbian model at a dyke bar we frequent, a gorgeous African-American knockout with silky mocha-hued skin.
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Walter met Marjorie, the mother of basketball player Doug Slade, at Doug's graduation party. After an inebriated mutual seduction, they ended up in bed until morning. The relationship progressed and at the end of chapter five, Walter asked Marjorie to marry him.
I apologize that this took so long but my flash drive disappeared - and thank you to those who encouraged me and requested this not knowing it was in work.
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I had just finished my freshman year of college, having somehow existed through months of frustration. My grades were excellent but my sex life was a failure. With hormones pumping throughout my body at breakneck speed, and a goodly amount of attractive girls running around campus suffering with the same condition, one would have thought that I would have connected with at least one member of the opposite sex. Alas, it did not come to pass. I was heading home without any good stories to tell to my old high school buddies and especially my best friend, George Simmons.
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The bell rings. I look through our bedroom window. Isabelle, a small and beautiful woman, my wife Anne's best friend, is standing in the rain. I run downstairs and open the front door. "Come in, come in," and I make an invitational gesture, not realizing that I'm still holding a knife in my hand. "My God," Isabelle gasps, "what's that big knife for? Cutting meat or something?"
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My last boyfriend broke up with me because I was "too aggressive." Our society expects women to be passive during sex. I have never wanted to be a woman who just lies there, passive and moaning, spread-legged like a frog on a dinner plate. I love to be on top. I always straddled him and put my hands on his forearms so I could pin him down, and then I pounded my pussy into his crotch. When he got close, I'd slow down and go up and down in long, teasing strokes to finish him off.
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