Living with Paige was pure hell for Ally. Every moment she was around was like slow, agonizing torture which Ally often likened to having dull screws driven deep into her skull while having her heart ripped violently and awkwardly from her chest by hateful vultures. Well, maybe not that bad, but it definitely sucked in the worst possible way.
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I still remember when the topic of a creampie first came up.
My wife, who was then my girlfriend, and I were fooling around.
We had gone out to enjoy a dinner and an early movie. I knew what I wanted for dessert.
She looked stunning, as usual. Julie has long black hair and hazel eyes. Her tits aren't that big but her ass is perfect.
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Selma Fox looked at the Senior English Class and considered which lucky young man would be her boytoy that semester. The first and most rigid requirement she had was that he had to be at least 18 years old, because she didn't want to get into any trouble with the law. Fucking and sucking off students was frowned on by the officials of the school district but, as long as nobody got hurt and no laws were broken, they would be willing to look the other way. Good teachers were hard to find, and Selma was one of the best.
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My first two years out of high school, I attended a community college, and worked as a delivery driver for a well-known pizza delivery chain we'll call "Checkers" to protect the innocent.
It was a pretty good job. Most of the drivers were needed in the evening so it didn't interfere with classes. You got paid a salary, tips and commission (to pay for gas) which averaged more than $8.00 an hour when minimum wage was closer to $4.00.
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I vividly remember touching myself in the shower. I was making sure I washed well because I have always been a bit of a clean freak, and as I rubbed my hands through my pussy lips I got that feeling, that "oh my god what was that feeling." Needless to say, like most all girls I began constantly touching myself in the shower, using the hot water and the shower head to send me to climax after climax! Months later, again in the shower I ran my finger a little harder than normal across my tight little asshole.
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My yearly physical was due and I had set up an appointment at my local PPO. I never know who I'm going to get doing the physical. It's a group practice and my doctor retired a couple of years ago. Since then, I haven't bothered to get a new primary doctor; I just see whoever's available when I need to make an appointment. It makes it a lot easier to be flexible around my work schedule. I'm a freelancer so my schedule is never routine.
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Ironing! God, I HATE ironing, but the height of the pile of clothes awaiting my attentions had grown to such a level, that I needed to do something about it.
So there I stood; unhappily, surrounded by slowly growing piles of neatly laundered pants, t-shirts, dress-shirts and sweaters.
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Cassandra, an attractive brunette with long straight hair, immensely enjoyed sex, although she was frequently disappointed. Her unhappiness did not stem from any deficiency on her part. Her lovers frequently complimented her. She had a sweet, delectable pussy, one that men craved to touch, to kiss, and, most of all, to be inside.
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I lay in the bathtub, watching steam rise from the warm water. I should have felt relaxed, but I did not. I waited apprehensively. Nothing could calm my nerves. Not the dozen candles that lit the bathroom. Not even the New Age CD that filled the room with the comforting sound of the ocean washing against the shore.
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Back in the 70's, in that decade of post-Pill and pre-HIV, I was a first year grad student at Berkeley when I met a new assistant prof in the history department. Jed was a few years older than I was, and he was a real product of the 60's: a bushy bearded and somewhat stocky teddybear kind of a guy who loved his dope and loved the sexual freedoms that emerged from those times.
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