I had never considered cheating on my wife, Melissa. We had been married for four years now, and had a pretty hot sex life. The only real serious challenge we'd encountered was that I was heavily into anal sex, and although my wife was willing, we had difficulty making the reality happen. Part of the problem is that I have a very large penis. It's about nine inches long, and two inches thick. I have difficulty getting it all the way in just about any woman's holes, and my wife was no exception.
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'.
The soft patter of rain that began to pelt against the roof grabbed my attention, and I paused, setting my fiery-red lipstick back on the wooden vanity below me.
"Shit." I muttered to myself, disgruntled. The weather forecast hadn't called for rain earlier in the morning, so I'd decided on a costume with more involved makeup. I'd planned on arriving at the annual Crowley Halloween ball dressed as a sexy version of Harley Quinn, my favorite character.
"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.
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.
"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.
I could hear the faint sound of music emanating from behind the door as I made my way down the hallway. Each step brought me closer as the music became louder and louder. I listened intently as I closed in, but could not make out place the song or the band, writing it off as one of the many independent, no-name artists that Laura always listened to.
Kari was hot. Not playboy hot, but attractive nonetheless in a natural, wholesome kind of way. She wasn't one to dress up. In fact, she'd often come to class in nothing more than sweatpants and a t-shirt. If I was lucky though, she would wear shorts And I'd get a view of her perfect, well muscled legs. She never wore makeup, but her skin was always flawless. She had a deep tanned skin tone that was an indicator of her half-oriental background and drove me crazy.
After my long and dull meeting ended I was eager to get away from the clichéd business speak and settle into a quiet bar stool for a slow gin and tonic. Maybe chase it with a beer. I took a walk several blocks from the convention center in hopes of not bumping into anyone I'd know and found a quaint little establishment that seemed perfect for what I was looking for. The lights were down low, the music not deafeningly loud and a cute bartender to boot. Perfect.
Friday 10:16 PM
The first thing I noticed when I walked into the club was that the coat check girl was dressed in lingerie. After a quick double take, I noticed the poster on the wall.
"Dare to wear, night?" I muttered, reading the words as I realized what exactly they meant.
I then had to pay twice the normal cover charge since my clothing was apparently not "provocative" enough as per the night's theme.