Sarah and DJ met online, as a result of their mutual interest in writing and reading erotic stories. Emails progressed to phone calls. They decided to meet. Sparks flew. After many weeks of almost around-the-clock, non-stop, hot, wet, "legal" sex (hey, sodomy is still illegal some places), the passion dwindled. Both realized the flame needed to be kindled.
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Hannah finished packing her things.
The divorce was nearly finalized. The split was mutual, with no hard feelings. The 36 year old corporate executive closed the last box and stood in the bedroom she had shared with her soon-to-be ex husband. It was a sad ending to her fairytale life.
One by one she carried the boxes away to her car. It wasn't as painful as she expected. She just didn't find the right person.
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I was trying my best to just flow with it, not think too much. I always think too much. Feel, just feel. Breathe, that's the key thing. Be sure to keep breathing. In and out. Nice and easy and smooth. I could get through this.
And don't look! I couldn't look. I will soon, I promised myself. But not yet. Breathe.
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I’ve been single for about six months now, and had been invited over to Jay and Maria’s for dinner. I was looking forward to getting out of my flat. Jay is one of my best friends – we have known each other since we were five years old. Jay is my age, average height, and has close-cropped hair as he started going bald a few years ago. He is fairly fit though, and keeps in shape running and cycling.
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The cock was so huge, not all of it fit into her pussy, but Savannah enjoyed it nonetheless. The man above her seemed to be enjoying it too. Kyle's green eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting of her bedroom; his face was twisted with his effort as his hips pumped harder and faster against her. He seemed to be nearing the peak but Savannah wasn't quite ready for him to finish just yet. Taking him by surprise she pushed him off, rolled him on to his back, and quickly straddled him.
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My stomach was all a twitter and my head reeled in anticipation as I race through the deep shades of a cold November evening. I am late and I do not really know where I am driving to or who I will find when I arrive. That is the beauty and liability of the Internet. Chat rooms upon chat rooms full of sexual mysteries, dreams and lies. A place where fantasy reigns and reality need not apply.
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Pam and I used to work together in the same office and after I quit to stay home with my kids, we got into the habit of meeting once a month for lunch. Due to our schedules, we hadn't had a chance to get together for about six weeks, so I was really looking forward to meeting her today.
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Recently, while preparing vanilla icing for a tray of cooling cinnamon buns, I heard Todd yell from the bathroom.
"Gloria, I haven't got a towel!" It prompted my memory: I'd washed them earlier and had forgotten to replace them. However, there were plenty in the hallway.
"Linen cupboard," I called back. He thudded down the passageway naked and wet. Hot, I thought.
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I found myself walking across the street from my neighbor's house with the taste of cum in my mouth. I walked into my house, not my house, but my wife and I's house. I was married, my wife is out of town for the weekend, and after helping my neighbor with some yard work I end up sucking his cock and being his pussy boy. What got into me, other than my neighbors cock that is?
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My roommate, Rob, was out of town that weekend, but that didn't stop me from hanging out with Rob. There was another Rob that we hung out with pretty frequently and I ended up going out with him and Hugh that Saturday night. After a few hours at the bars, drinking a number of beers but failing miserably with the women, Hugh headed home and Rob and I headed to his house to crash.
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