Nothing, and I mean nothing, in sex gets me off more than the scent and taste of my woman's ass. I don't mean when it's squeaky clean and perfumed. I mean when it smells and tastes like what an ass is and what it does.
Nothing beats the erotic blast of kissing her soft, satiny fanny and parting the cheeks to expose her sexy anus.
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It had been a very pleasant dinner – until she kissed me at the end.
On the sidewalk, just before Adrienne got into the taxi, she pressed her luscious body into mine, giggled for a second deep in her throat, and then kissed my lips passionately. Her sweet wet tongue darted into my mouth and explored.
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Becca sat alone in her home enjoying a relaxing day of nothingness. She had done her housework for the day and had nothing to do over the weekend. Plans could be easily made, but could they compare a lazy day of sitting around her cozy apartment sans clothes? The ability to lounge around in the nude had to be high up on the list of reasons to live alone.
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"He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff . . ."
The rich, resonating, calming baritone of the La Lectura began to weave Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea for us for perhaps the hundredth time, as we Torcedores settled once more into the rhythm of preparing our bunches of tobacco leaves perfectly for the press. We could not have done our demanding work without La Lectura, the reader who sat on the dais on the cigar factory floor, reading to us, first from the daily press and then from classical works—and sometimes, to our great privilege, reciting poetry to us in perfect rhythm to the set movements of our leaf bundling.
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Brooke asked if I would write this story. The theme is interracial lesbian domination. All the characters are real. All references to people and photographs are real. I've simply inserted myself into her world. The story ends at my last point of contact with Brooke. There may be more to come.
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Laure awoke mid-moan, rolling forwards, pressing herself against the flat warmth of the bed. Eyes still closed, a dull pain registered a fraction of a second after the waking of pleasure.
The dryness of the roof of her mouth, the slowness of her tongue, and the thick weight of a movement induced headache contrasted strangely with the spreading heat of her groin and the languidity of her limbs.
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Several years ago, my wife and I vacationed in Europe for two weeks. I knew that Europeans tend to be more casual about nudity and sex than Americans are, but I was still unprepared (as was my wife) when we decided to visit a spa (called "bad") in Germany. We took a tram up the side of a steep hill to the top and looked down over a beautiful view and a large pool with an even larger deck.
"Oh my God," my wife exclaimed as she saw that almost all of the women were lying topless on the deck or soaking that way in the pool.
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I tossed the trashy romance novel I'd bought onto the coffee table. Here I was, all alone, my son out with his father in California for the summer and what was my plan for Saturday night? To sit, all alone, and read a book.
I sighed, got off the sofa and wandered down the hall to the bathroom. I turned on the light and looked at myself in the mirror. I was only 42 years old and I didn't have some of the wrinkles the girls I worked with had at my age.
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We set up a night that I am going to be in town and your wife won't be. Our plan is to have fun with each other naked and see if we can cum up with a plan to get the wife involved. I tell my wife that I have to go there on business and your wife is planning a shopping trip with friends.
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This Ella's story. She is real, as are Dani and Gabrielle. Part of the story is true... the rest is Ella's fantasy. I've reflected exactly what she told me. For those who don't enjoy stories with interracial lesbian domination or reluctance and coercion as their themes, thank you for stopping by but please pass on.
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