It was Friday afternoon and I had returned to the hotel suite after finishing with my best friends dress rehearsal for her wedding which was Saturday evening at 6 pm. I had about 4 hours to kill before my husband and I needed to be at the rehearsal dinner. Steve, my husband, was out playing golf with my dad and my brother and wouldn't be back for another at least two, maybe three hours.
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Helen was a little surprised when the doorbell rang at precisely nine a.m., exactly when the contractor had told her that the workers would arrive to build her new deck. She was even more surprised when she opened the door and saw two young men who couldn't be more than twenty years old.
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My mother left my father when I was 15. She went off to "find herself" in California. Strangely, my father was upset but also understanding. I think that made it easier for me. I still loved her and she was in touch with us and said she loved us both. I believed her, but also knew that she had moved on as we must. She always was a free spirit and one that was hard to hold onto.
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I am a fairly normal guy except for I have a problem. Ever since I was a teen, I have cum very quickly. It doesn't matter if I was masturbating, getting a hand job, blowjob or sex. If there is constant stimulation, the longest I have gone before cumming is 4 minutes and most of the time it is 1 1/2 minutes.
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Addie anchored her naked arms on the edge of the sink with her cute, round behind aimed straight up at me. She pushed her feet back just a bit, spread her legs and dug in. "I'm as ready as I can be, handsome. Do it."
"Okay, but I warn you, I've never done this before," I responded nervously.
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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see.
My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex.
She said it was "gross".
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Two years ago when I first became a full-time student at the state university's city campus I was fortunate enough to find a part-time job, one that I still have to this day. Twenty hours a week I work in a small family run pastry shop called the Donut King. While the amount of money I earn there is modest, it is a much needed supplement to my student loan and savings.
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"Wahay!" A course Geordie voice shouted as I heard someone wolf-whistle me, "Careful you don't show us your stocking tops; sweetheart!"
I had arrived home half an hour earlier after finishing a night shift at the hospital and as I was hanging some washing on the spinner in the garden my nurses' uniform had risen to mid thigh.
I turned to scowl at the builders who were working on the new conservatory.
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It had been a week since my friend Emily and I had experienced one of the most exciting nights of our lives, a night when we visited a local swinger's club. The week finally passed but it felt more like a month because all I could think about, every minute of each day was going back. Emily had told me that night, when I dropped her off at her apartment that I was to call her the following weekend so we could go back for more.
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Down came the windows, though she knew that the interior would have a fine coating of gravel dust by the time she returned home. It was the first truly warm day of the year. The office had hired a couple of people to reduce her workload. She'd finally come to her senses and returned to single life after a string of two bad relationships.
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