"Shit! Shitshhitshitshit!" Sarah quietly screamed, looking at the scrape on the back fender where she'd kissed the nearby post of the mall's underground parkade. Tears welled in her eyes. "What am I going to do?" she lamented, beginning to hyperventilate, as she considered her husband's response. She wasn't even supposed to be using his pride and joy, a maroon Carerra 4. She wouldn't have been either, except that her Audi was making weird noises.
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My name is Sharon and I'm 31. I'll be 32 in just under a month. My husband's name is Dave and he's a year older than me. His birthday and my birthday are just two days apart. We have been married for 3 1/2 years and currently do not have any children. Our sex life was pretty good before, having sex quite often. But like so many others, it became routine, and although I usually always had an orgasm, it just wasn't as exciting as it had been.
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One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.
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Sometimes you have to struggle hard to get laid, and sometimes the sex just comes to you. I remember in my second year at Uni, my mate Greg and I went out for a night around the clubs in London. We knew our way around these places by that stage. The first place was pretty rough, but Greg and I were both in the karate club and had achieved black belt level, so we weren't worried too much by some of the more blatant male posturing going on.
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I had a date on Friday with a boy I had seen a time or two before. I liked him well enough for seeing a movie and dinner, but there were no sparks between us. I hadn't slept with him, so this date was kind of the point where we either were or we weren't, and I just wasn't sure whether we would. And then he called and asked if it were okay if we doubled with a friend of his and another girl.
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"So, you think you might be OK, now? A different perspective, I hope?"
"Yes, yes, thank you, . . . You know I haven't gotten your name. I feel so . . ."
"No need to, son. You can just call me Dingle. And I won't be seeing you up here again, I do hope."
"Umm. I kinda hoped that—"
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Dan had never been to this place before. Fox Lake was not really one of his favorite places to play. But this bar was interesting enough. Situated right on the lake, Wokini's was typical of lake bars the country over. Darkened windows, bright neon lights flashing 'Budweiser,' 'Lite' and 'Southern Comfort.' The smell of stale beer and fried food permeated the air, as did cheap cologne. What brought Dan here were not the rave reviews from Metromix, but rather the fact that Donna Morgan frequented this place as a source of young men to satisfy her nasty debauchery. Dan thought, 'What's good for Mrs. Morgan may be good for other married sluts.'
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I want to tell you a true story between my husband and I.
We are a very sexual couple but I felt as if we were both holding back our deepest, darkest desires from each other.
We would tease each other through out the day by texting while he was at work, I would leave a pair of panties in the pocket of his work pants for him to sniff when ever he desired. Just little sexual teases to tell each other "Look what you have to look forward to tonight!"
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December, The Taylor Residence, North Wilmington, Delaware.
Russell Taylor looked out of his bedroom window at the street crammed with parked cars. It was the week before Christmas and Trolley Square was full of office workers heading for parties in the local bars and restaurants.
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My girlfriend and I had talked a lot about our fantasies together, especially during sex. One theme we brought up a lot was the idea of a threesome... she was more comfortable and receptive to having a guy join us, and we focused on that. We would incorporate a lot of dirty talk in the bedroom... she'd describe what she wanted to do to "him", or I'd ask her what she wanted us both to do. It grew over time and obviously turned us both on.
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