Emily here. I'm "No-boobs," remember? (From "Summertime Sex Ed.") They aren't any bigger now, even though I'm a year and a half older than I was then.
I'm a sophomore at a big Midwestern state college now, with a tennis scholarship (thank you, Title 9!) I had a boyfriend in my freshman year, but it wasn't much of a relationship. For now, let's just call him LB (for Loser Boy).
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The summer was drawing to a close; long, balmy nights were growing shorter and sweaters began to feature in the costumes of the young and cool. Kate sat alone at the top of a small hill, watching the sunset and waiting for her boyfriend, Ben to arrive. One by one, the stars began to prickle through the hazy sky, peppering Kate's view with constellations she didn't understand, but loved all the same.
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I had been going to the local YMCA after work for about a week now, I was trying to bulk up a little bit to impress my girlfriend. I'm a pretty slim guy at 6 feet, and 150 lbs. I certainly wasn't in bad shape at all, I just wanted to get a little bigger and tone up a bit. I had always known I was an attractive guy, and many people had also said as much, but despite that I had very little luck with women.
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Sabine was walking through the autumn sun. The leaves were swirling down from the trees in the afternoon breeze, occasionally one would tangle in her long red hair. She moved along, paying little attention to her surroundings, lost in her thoughts.
Would he be here tonight? He promised he would be. Well, he promised he would try.
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There was a light drizzle covering his windshield and clouding his view of the new dance club that had just opened in the industrial park. When he first saw the signs, he thought that maybe they were adding yet another peeler parlour to a small city that was already over run with strip bars and exotic dance clubs. The rumour was though, that this place was definitely not one of those, but a place that was much different and new to this town.
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I love touching my pussy. I love the feeling of my most personal effect in my hand. I love bringing myself to orgasm by playing with my pussy. I love the feeling of being in charge of my own happiness. I love feeling my silken gift at my fingertips, and the feeling of intimacy that it provides for me.
I've also had to learn to love all of those things.
I've come to love them over the last several years, as masturbation is my only true sexual outlet right now.
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"You could have at least waited for him to come off the operating table."
"I couldn't . . . (huff) . . . help it . . . (puff). I think we may have overimplanted the scent. Come over here and . . ."
"My God, I think you're right. God, god, finish with it. I must . . . as well. And we can see how well he can take an enhanced size. You're no . . ."
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This is the story of the first and only man I've been with sexually. I had reached early middle age and found myself horny all the time and up late jacking off to internet porn. I especially found myself watching a lot of blow job scenes. I don't get enough or very good head from the wife, and I would occasionally cruise craigslist thinking jeez it would be easy to get a guy to give me an NSA blowjob.
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"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?"
What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup.
"I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."
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Bound to cum and cum again.
I was tied spread eagle on the bed; I had been allowed to cum, but only after three hours of being teased to near climax and then stopping just short of climax. I can't take it that long, but I did not have a choice. After I climaxed she did not stop, she kept trying to milk my limp penis.
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