'Can I cum on your face?'
That was where it all started I think, I was 18 and Greg was my first boyfriend. We had been sleeping together for a few months and it was all 'quite nice', all very so-so. Probably it was a bit like most first relationships between two virgins, you are both pretty clueless.
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"Are you ready for this?"
She hovers just in front of my face. My hands held down above my head. Her pussy is wet with sex - both hers and mine.
"Because you're getting it, whether you are ready. Or not." She looks down into my eyes and smiled.
An hour before, Rashel was just getting home from work. I had the day off. Most of the day was spent playing video games and surfing the web, but just before she got home I went into action.
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Only rarely did Mistress and I venture into the world as a normal, vanilla couple. We were much happier playing in our usual environment, where we could be as wild as we wanted without anyone else around. Her dominance, and my submission, were a release from the everyday. But tonight, Mistress had needed an escort for an inner city work function, and I had been commanded to attend.
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For a long time now, I've loved the idea of eating my wife's pussy right after I cum inside her. I fantasize about it practically every time we have sex, but unfortunately, as soon as I cum I lose interest completely. In fact, after I cum the idea repels me. I've mentioned this fantasy to Pam, and much to my surprise it turned her on at least as much as it does me.
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There wasn't an adult in the land that didn't know what her family did. There wasn't a tabloid editor on Fleet Street that hadn't paid out hard cash for sex tapes containing her or her family. They were notorious; famous almost. Salacious details of the exploits became Internet folklore, the stuff of legend.
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I sat on the couch, the room lit by the flicker of some skin-emax show. There was a tumbler of scotch in my hand; one of far too many for the day, but then, this was our annual vacation with a group of friends at the beach and excessive consumption was practically required. This was the third night though, around 11pm, early by first night standards, but well past the breaking point for most after three days of hard partying in the sun and sand.
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She straddled my legs and leaned forward. Her breasts hung over my stomach. She swayed from side to side and her breasts gently smacked my hardened penis. She stroked my hardness with her nipples. I groaned and moaned my pleasure. Drops of pre-cum fluid formed. She smeared my pre-cum with her nipples, back and forth. "Mmmm I love your slick pre-cum on my nipples, do you? Do you love how it feels? Do you love your slick pre-cum on my hard nipples?"
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This is a fantasy exploration of some of my erotic thoughts. I would love your comments. This story is for adult readers only. Always engage in safe sexual practices.
Just another workout...or so I thought. I was working on my bench press and struggling with the second set. I knew I had more in me but I needed a spot to lift the bar off the bench. I looked around the weight room and saw Brian. We had met at the gym, and at that point we were just kind of "hi-how-are-ya" friends.
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The parties that went on at 69 Brentwood Street were legendary. When Luke Prescott received the invitation email by Blackberry during his final year at NYU, he had high expectations. The house was a three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side, and was being rented by three of the hottest girls in university. Kendra, Lacey and Chloe were commonly referred to around campus as 'The Babes on Brentwood.'
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"What's the matter with you guys? You got lead in your ass? We're never going to win a goddamn thing if you don't pick up your game!
Tom was screaming at the football team as they practiced for the upcoming game. His red hair glinted in the bright sunlight so that his head seemed on fire, matching his fiery temper. Most of the team looked sheepishly at me, knowing this was not their day.
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