Hot morning sun blistering one side of my cheek, along with the sound of a shrieking bird outside my window as I lay on my bed woke me up. I scrambled to the floor, forgetting for the moment, in my sleepy state, that it was Sunday and I didn't have to go to work. Looking at the clock on the bedside table I saw that it was eight thirty. I felt like going back to bed but habit got the better of me. Growing up, I had heard my late dad on numerous occasions speak on the virtues of early rising, claiming that persons who liked to sleep late got nowhere in life. I usually got up at around 5:45 to 6:00 am to start preparing for work.
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She was excited to see him, beyond eager as she stood waiting for him to answer the large wood door. She tried very hard to calm her breathing to slow her heart down and just relax. She concentrated on her breaths as she heard the footsteps moving towards the door. As the handle turned she held her breath, letting it out very slowly as she tugged the hem of her tight white dress down. She stood there frozen, she waited until he said hello before letting her eyes meet his.
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I glanced around nervously as Mya dug through her purse, searching for her keys.
"What time is your boyfriend coming home again?" I asked, waiting impatiently as she continued rummaging.
"Stop worrying about it?" she chided, pulling her keys from the purse, fumbling them in her drunken fingers. "He won't be back until the morning."
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It was summer, back when my summers were times for adventure and wanderlust. I decided to visit my friend John who was living in Athens writing for an English-language newspaper. We were to spend a week on Skopelos, a sleepy Greek isle in the Sporades island group, famous for its wine. John and I were both single guys in our 20's who were wine-drinking buddies from college who still liked to hang out together.
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As I write this, my pussy and ass are still sore and throbbing from the pounding you guys gave me earlier tonight. I'm amped up and can't sleep, and you've both passed out from exhaustion, so I thought I would just sneak into the office here and write this all down so I can remember every detail of the incredible session of sucking and fucking that we just finished about an hour ago...
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She did not clean herself after I had spunked over her over ripe, fleshy tits and her make up pasted face. She simply sat there, still in the position she had been in as I had fucked her, and with the cum that I had showered over her beginning to run down her chin to her neck and from her tits towards the gentle rolls of her stomach. In remaining like this, she was silently offering me an invitation to admire her and I was keen to accept it.
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Joe had been looking forward to a quiet weekend. The high-end renovation he had been hired to complete had a deadline and he had to bust his ass all week to get it completed on time. Now, with the deadline met and the check in hand, he was planning on watching baseball and drinking beer all weekend. He got up early to go for a run. He figured a good run would cancel out some of the beer.
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Dillan didn't know the specifics of a gale-force wind, but by the force of this wind, he thought it should have qualified. He wiped the fine film of sand from his clean-shaven face. "Forget it," he told his companion, who peered up the boardwalk. "It's a stupid bet. I call it off."
"What?" Joel said, turning to him. "You can't do that! You made a deal, man."
"Yeah, well, I don't feel so desperate anymore. This wind is bumming me out."
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My wife was fairly discerning when it came to other men she wanted to have sex with. But I knew there was one guy she was crazy about. He was a dancer at an all male revue. She had once admitted to me that she would have had sex with him at her bachelorette party, just a couple of weeks before our wedding, if she had had a chance and her friends wouldn't have judged her. Every time she described her feelings about him and his body while we were in bed, we had earth moving sex.
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1.
Wow, so it was really going to be real. My husband Ted had finally gotten that job in California. We were moving out west; in three weeks we would be out of the apartment and out of New York City, driving a Ryder truck across the country, on our way to a whole new life.
It still didn't seem quite real. And yet there was so much to take care of, so many loose ends to wrap up.
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