Usually, I-75 from Fort Lauderdale to Naples isn't a very exciting ride. But as my car sped along, passing Florida State Road 19 at around 75 mph, I was pretty fired up. Yeah, I noticed the hundred or so gators sunning themselves on the embankment that lines the interstate; that was different. However, the hormones that were coursing through me this day didn't have anything to do with being excited over cars, or mileage, or gators. The drive itself was a nuisance.
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"Well, I have like 45 minutes to kill," sang the high-pitched, sweet teen voice of my daughter's curvy Latina friend Marisa, "would you like a sloppy blowjob?"
My ears weren't expecting that question, and I swear I must have blushed. Perverted middle-aged fathers don't get that question often, or at least, this one doesn't. Or hasn't before at least. Maybe she saw me staring at her ample boobs in her tight babydoll, or she detected my eyes on her stellar round butt in that thin little skirt a few minutes earlier.
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Dan spent last weekend up at his parents' house in the suburbs. It was one of those dead weekends. Many of his friends were out of town, working, or too tired to go out. On Friday before he left, he called Steve Morgan's cell phone again in one last ditch effort to try to get something going, but was greeted only by voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message, threw some clothes in a backpack, and drove up to his parents'.
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Julia picked up another glass of champagne as she glanced around the room.
"Pompous assholes," she thought to herself, taking a sip of the drink, watching the endless parade of rich old men arm in arm with their trophy wives.
Julia hated these functions and cringed at the mere mention of attending one. It was her duty, however, as her husband expected her to be there hanging off his arm like all the other fake plastic gold diggers that frequented fundraisers such as this one.
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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect.
After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.
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Jane had been Ryan's roommate for a few months, the two working at the same large state agency together. Ryan was thirty years old, fit, attractive and had an incredibly sexy and kinky girlfriend named Stacey. Jane, was twenty nine years old, about 5'5, with shoulder length black hair, a slight tan all year round and an athletic body that she took good care of going to the gym five days a week. Before Ryan had gotten to know Jane the first thin he noticed about her was her extremely gorgeous tits, in his estimation D cups which might be fake because of the way they defied gravity.
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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy.
Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.
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"I'm so tired of today," thought Amisha. "I just want to get home and go to sleep. Is that too much to ask?"
She had just finished an arduous day of work at her office and was on the way back from the restroom to her desk to pack up her things when her phone buzzed. As she checked it, she assumed it was her boyfriend, once again telling her that he was going out with his guy friends that night.
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"Asshole," Jeri said out loud as she drank a tall glass of water near the kitchen sink.
Jeri stared lazily at the backyard where the young neighbor was mowing and trimming the backyard. It had been a task he had completed every summer for them for several years. Jeri and her husband had paid him well for his work, which wasn't so good when he first started, but became better and better. Being a scorching day, he was out there with his shirt off. Jeri would watch if she was home when he worked, but never fathomed the idea of anything more.
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Gary hooked his thumb vaguely in the direction of the room that he and Kimberly had converted to a nursery. "Kim's feeding the li'l one," he said. "She'll be out in a few minutes." He often referred to his new baby as "the li'l one." In fact her name was Emily, but at six months, I suppose "the li'l one" is as good a tag as any. Then with his other hand he hooked a thumb toward the hallway that lead to his music studio. "Sheila, I wanted to show you the folio of Bach etudes I just got."
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