I was in kitchen preparing dinner when Graham called from office and said he would be coming home early as he had something important to tell us.
Worried that it might be bad news, I asked him to tell it right away but he calmed me down saying, "Don't worry, it's not bad news," and hung up.
After another bout of love making, we were exhausted and fatigue had taken over our bodies. We showered together in the lavishly sinful bathroom, dressed again and left the place along with James, who drove us back to her place. On the way back to her place, she promised me another good time, and we fixed the appointment, and scheduled our program. We planned out where and what we would do for that next evening. James glided the car to a stop at her apartment gate. I pulled her in, as she was about to alight from the car.
These stories will follow the views and perspectives of individual characters, sometimes switching between them. I apologize for any confusion this may cause and I hope to clearly distinguish between each character when I make the transitions.
The afternoon air was warm, but not unusually so for that time of year. It had been ten minutes since the local highschool had been dismissed for the weekend. Two eighteen year old students were making their way through quiet neighborhoods nearby.
Ethan found it extremely difficult to walk properly, even on the smooth, level footpath. A mixture of nervousness and excitement was causing him to over-think every step.
Something very traumatic happened to me recently - something that could have killed me. Since then, I have been reliving all of the major events in my life. Fortunately, I have plenty of college friends and family to discuss things with. However, there is one event I must keep secret and anonymous.
During my senior year in high school, I was a determined, albeit slow, member of my school's track & field team.
((I usually detest the idea of using toys in a movie or a story because it generally means that the writer has just run out of ideas and the toys are used to take up space, which is almost always the case in commercial porn. The toys also usually sever the story line because they put space between the participants and eliminate flesh-to-flesh contact. However, in this particular story with a "Mother-teaches-daughter" theme, I felt that the use of toys was appropriate to the plot.
It was one of those days where you just wanted to go out and get yourself laid. My name is Gus Roberts, 32 years old, and it's been in a while since I've had a steady relationship. I'm kinda on the stocky side, a little under 6 feet tall, and short brown hair. I was wearing a classy black shirt and matching slacks, flashing some cash, buying women drinks and trying to get some at a local singles bar.
Billie was tiny, less than 5' tall, maybe 4'10" , weighed maybe 100 lbs., and cute as she could be. She was wearing a short-skirt skating outfit like ice skaters wear, but it was a roller-rink. Jay, John and I had been watching her and her boyfriend from High School (they'd enrolled at the Baptist College in town together) whirl around the floor, her like the little acrobat she was, him stumbling along with her. He was almost as clumsy as she was adept.
18 year olds, Phillip mused, were much easier to talk into sexual experimentation than any other legal age. Perhaps once they turned 19 they'd had enough perverse encounters with dirty old men (by which he meant 35, which wasn't all that old -- unless, of course, you were 18) to be slightly more jaded. But 18... ah luscious, innocent 18 with all it's bend-a-bility and flexibility in both mind and body.
"Hi. I came to see you before I go."
Fiona was the daughter of friends. We had watched her grow up and go out on her own, been to her twenty-first, seen her get her first job and become an attractive young woman. She stood on my front doorstep on a hot summer's day and she looked good enough to eat. My wife was away for a couple of weeks in Perth, and I was batching.