'Should I send him a picture of my ass or my tits?' Kayla thought to herself. She stood and looked to the mirror on the wall between the dorm room beds. She admired her own body, grabbing her breasts over her spaghetti strap top. Chris was definitely a tits guy.
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Barry was excited. She was leaving again. He'd have time to himself again to be able to do things that she couldn't when she was home. Mainly he would surf the internet for sites that showed women taking control of and giving it to their men. The thought always excited him, but he never dared bring it up to Danielle, she was far too vanilla for things like that. She would barely change sexual positions in bed. Getting her to wear something sexy was next to impossible.
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Jimmy cursed as he saw a girl slipping something into her purse from the shelves on the security camera. He'd been working as a security guard for months now, but he still hated it when he caught a shop-lifter, it meant having to leave the comfy confines of the security office. Not to mention all the paper-work. Then he froze as the girl looked around, checking to make sure no one was watching her. That was no girl, that was the 23 year old bitch that had ended the friendship between him and his best friend!
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"SHHHHHHHhhh..." said Dane, as we walked into the dark foyer of his parents' home. I couldn't stop myself from giggling at the absurdity of the situation. The two beers I had at the college party probably did not help. I managed to hold it together for a few moments as we both craned to listen to the silence coming form within the house.
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I have had a fetish for panties ever since I was about 18. I would sneak into my mother's panty draw whenever I got a chance. She had many pairs of all different colours and materials but my favourite were her silky panties. Thongs didn't really do it for me as there isn't enough material to rub over my cock.
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No sooner had the key turned off in the ignition than I saw disaster about to strike. Snatching open the car door, I raced across the street.
"Wait!" I yelled as I Olympic-hurdled a lawn sprinkler.
Three feet up a ladder, Mrs. Kemp turned to look at me. She smiled and stepped back down. "Hey, Jimmy. When did you get home?"
Panting to catch my breath, I gave her a grin. "Came in... late last night." I pointed over my shoulder at my car. "Mom had me to go grab a few things at Wally World for her."
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The day I slept late that July was unforgettable. I had just graduated high school and was gently preparing to go off to college, but mainly that summer I was relaxing – sleeping late and not having many plans.
My sister was travelling somewhere in Europe and my parents were both working long days, probably thinking about my college expenses. We also had a house guest for a few weeks that summer. Leigh Chandler was an old friend of my mother's from her college days. Leigh had recently started a new job in town and was staying with us while she looked for an apartment.
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Jennifer McDougall slumped in the hard-back chair on the other side of my large wooden desk. The wind knocked out of her sails, I knew she was beaten.
Tears ran down her face, and I handed her my handkerchief to wipe them away. It was a losing battle though, for each time she dried those blue eyes the tears continued to flow.
"Mr. Roberts, I'm so sorry, I..." she quietly said.
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I had been waiting for months for an opportunity to try my new contraption out.
Let me back up a little. I am what you would consider a bondage addict. I have always thought of it as being taboo thoughts so I am about as much a closet bondage addict as one can get.
For years I would buy adult magazines and have to go to really sleaze places to find what I wanted, then I was so embarrassed having them I would hid them in cracks and crevices I'd find around my living quarters so no one would ever know. My mom and dad never knew, my roommates in college never knew then later in life my wife never knew.
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I like gardening. It's a relaxing hobby and I happen to have the knack of making plants grow. Give my brother and me two identical plants and what happens? He carefully plants his one, adds the right fertilizer, tends it carefully, watches over it like a mother with her baby, right up to the time it dies on him. Me, I slap my plant down into the soil and jump back to give it room to grow. A natural talent and a green thumb, I assure my brother. Pure arsed luck, he tells me.
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