She had been sitting outside for about thirty minutes, waiting for him to come home from work, and watching the clouds build up to the northwest of them. There was a distant rumble of thunder and a few brief glimpses of lightening. And then she heard the siren go off on the golf course behind the house and knew that the storm was headed their way.
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Since the semester began three weeks ago, I haven't seen my dad. My parents' house was a 90-minute car drive away -- close enough to consider a spur-of-the-moment trip every now and then, but too far to do it too often. Classwork was keeping me really busy, too.
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"Tomorrow. Bring your hands around my sides as I lay enveloped in your lap. Hold me in your hands until tomorrow, one hand cupping my balls, making me vulnerable to your touch, and the other hand possessing my cock closely—and stroke, stroke, stroke. Ahhhhhhh. Still cupping my balls with one hand, move the fingers of the other to my hole and invade and stretch, preparing me for you. Then at the stroke of tomorrow, turn me onto my belly, encase my thighs with your knees, and plunge into me with your firm cock, your palms pushing down on my shoulder blades, and ride me, ride me, r i d e m e . . . Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
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My gf (Brenda) was dating this guy Jeff who was a man whore but was jealous of Brenda ever checking out a guy or dreaming of even cheating on him. I often told Brenda to ditch his ass, but given how good looking he was, Brenda was putty in his hand. Jeff was 6'4", 200 pound chiseled body and what I was told a good 7 inch cock that he knew how to use real well. Often Brenda would talk about being fucked so hard it felt she was raped.
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Bradley slammed the door to her room and leaned back against it, gasping for air. Shit, shit, shit. She held out her hands -- they were shaking. She couldn't believe she'd just had a screaming match with her employer. For the past two months she and Parker MacKenzie had coexisted peacefully in the large, empty house. She cleaned and looked after the grounds, and he spent all his time in his office working.
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Stephanie breathed a deep sigh as she once again sat in traffic on the interstate. Yet another commute in a life full of them. It seemed that this was all her life had been since her divorce five years ago. Commute, work, commute, sleep, commute, work and so on and so on. At age forty-six she needed a change, but the rut she was stuck in was so deep it seemed that climbing out would be impossible. Today was just like any other day except it was Wednesday, not Tuesday or Friday or even Monday. It was just another day in a string of days that seemed to never change.
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The RA’s jokingly call the bathrooms in my residence hall “gender blind”. In this case, I supposed that fits, because I never did see the girl. But in most cases, it just means that all the bathrooms are coed; don’t ask, don’t look, in other words. There are only 30 people in the whole hall making it more of a house, really, and 25 of them are girls. Yeah, a little lopsided, but who’s going to complain, huh? The guys? I’m the only male on my floor out of 15!
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Thanks to all those readers who have asked for more chapters in this series. I never thought of writing a series but because you have continuously asked for more from this story, I have done my best to comply. We all live multi-faceted lives (I don't have time to write but once or twice every other week) but I will try to write new chapters and follow-ups to my other stories too. Thanks again to all those readers who have emailed with kudos, I live and write for them. For those who write saying they don't like something, thanks too but only when it is constructive criticism. I'm learning to be a better writer. That being said, lets move on to Jenny and her pretty mouth.
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The large house was silent except for the sound of Jennifer and Nicole's footsteps on the tile floor. Everywhere they looked, elegant Christmas decorations adorned the walls. They turned into a lavish living room and saw a single occupant—a fellow teacher named Cheryl—sitting next to an eight foot Christmas tree.
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My name is Jack Maltan, I’m a private eye.
Heh, sounds pretty good huh? Actually I am a private eye, but you wouldn’t know it to look at me. I was only 20 when I got into it. So it works out that my father, a career cop, gets the boot from the force for knockin’ around some kid that waved a gun at him and ran off. Funny thing, anyone else would have done the same, or worse. Anyway so my dad goes nuts, without the force he’s nothing he lasted a while, then he offed himself about two years ago.
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