Vikki came into my life through a business venture of mine. I had to make some contractual agreements with several not for profit organizations so they'd agree to lend me certain information that they had in their possession. Vikki put the contracts together so I wouldn't get myself into legal trouble. I was expecting to get a 60-ish balding lawyer when I contracted her firm for legal services and instead they sent her out. When we first met she was dressed quite smartly, as one would expect, and conservatively enough to satisfy even the most up tight executive.
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I was online and horny as usual. Tonight I had posted a message on a gay cruising .org kindda site indicating that I wanted to suck a man's cock really bad as soon as possible. My profile indicates that I am a bottom and that I love to suck cock. My profile pictures there of me in action reinforce that fact along with a couple of testimonials from men who I have been very well pleased with my abilities to pleasure men sexually.
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The late afternoon sun shines strongly, casting long shadows on the ground. I search through the crowd, looking for my friends amid the mass of people standing, staring towards the stage. Where I am is still some way from the band currently playing, with only the tallest able to get a decent view. So everyone is mostly stood like near-inanimate zombies, their only movements are the odd step to the side, or a tilting of their heads as they seek that perfect view of a few guys playing guitars and drums.
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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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The "cleanest" sexual relationship I've had was also, in the end, the kinkiest. I lived in a cabin up in Vermont for a short time several years ago. I'd just moved east from California, had a couple bucks in the bank, and was woodshedding some songs for a new album.
First night there I'd pulled all the curtains off the windows and stuck the clock radio in the closet, so every morning I woke up to the impossible shimmer of sunlight off the lake and got right to work.
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Jan was bouncing up and down on her boyfriend, Bubba's lap but not in the way you might think. With five of them in the cab of Jake's old pickup, she did not have anywhere else to sit. They were packed in like sardines but that didn't keep them all from bouncing around on the rough dirt road that led into the hay fields.
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I suppose trouble follows me because I look for it, but sometimes (more often than not) I find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time (or as I would say, the right place at the right time). Such was the case on New Year's Eve.
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An unexpected package in the post is always a pleasure, and this was no exception. Although if Jessica had foreseen the events that would unfold, she may have been less excited when she noticed, upon her return from work, the box left outside her door.
She scooped it up with the other post and then placed it on the table while she changed and poured a glass of wine.
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As we were driving down the highway I heard a moan and wondering what Beth was up to now I looked over just in time to watch her unbutton the last button on her blouse.
Beth had her eyes closed and she was slowly moving her finger back and forth on her tummy by the bottom of her slightly open blouse.
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Sometimes in life we become so lonely that we are willing to do most anything to fill the void. Frequently we do things that are risky and foolish. Often our high risk actions come with unexpected consequences.
Clair Davis woke late that Saturday morning. As she sat up she looked at the digital clock sitting on her nightstand.
The red numbers displayed ten thirty.
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