Damn it! Just reach over and touch me. I wish you could read my mind. You would be shocked at what I am thinking right now. You think you need to go slow with me. I have been hurt in the past. Right now I just want to feel you pounding that huge joystick into my hot waiting canal. If you put your hand between my legs you would feel the wetness that begs for you to control me, take me, hurt me as you pound me with your cock. I am so hot, so hot.
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The car arrives promptly at 09.30 hours, as stated on the card she had opened when she rose that morning. Sara has her small handbag with her, a light coat, and nothing else. Dressed smartly in a blouse and knee length skirt she closes and locks the front door, making her way down the path on sensible 2 inch heels, sheer stockings swishing together as she approaches the sleek black Mercedes that awaits her. A liveried chauffeur steps from the car and opens the rear door as she approaches.
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I recommend that you read chapter 1, 2 and 3 before delving into chapter 4, but here is a quick recap reminder of what happened. Eighteen year old Kevin Lansing came home to find his older sister Hannah licking his twin sister Kristen's hot pussy. He quickly stripped down and joined in on the filthy fun, where plenty of licking, sucking, tonguing and fucking took place. Later, their mother Krystal, a dominant mistress, and father Kevin, a submissive pet, came home and the fun continued.
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Megs had desperately sought a woman to dominate her in special ways. She yearned to be controlled and, with that control, to be subjected not only to depraved sexual acts, but be exposed to embarrassment and humiliation. An elegant, stylishly attired businesswoman, her hair always perfectly in place, her nails immaculately done, dressed so very precisely, Megs gave off an aura of almost over concern with the crisp and clean and tidy image of herself she presented to others
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His hand came down again on her bare bottom in front of him. The slap was loud. She whimpered softly. The sting of his hand excited her and she felt the warmth of her secretions flood between her legs. Her flesh vibrated and teased her as she felt them resonate to her sex and sensitive breasts.
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Sometimes when you've been with the same lover or a spouse, adjusting to a new one is a bit of a challenge. A person can spend literally hours chatting or texting building up the chemistry, the raw desire, only to find out at the moment that it was all just talk and the chemistry just isn't there. This was definitely not the case with, well; I won't tell you his real name, let's just call him Andre.
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I had met Mandy on numerous occasions previously. She was a good looking lady, about 58 years old. She had shoulder length blonde hair (probably dyed) and a nice figure for someone her age – not perfect but given that she was nearly 60 then more than acceptable. She had a nice face – her eyes were wide and sparkly, nice smile. She had crows feet at the sides of her eyes and her face now showed signs of her age – wrinkles here and there that actually looked pretty good on her.
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One of the great things about being in this relationship has always been our compatibility in kink, and willingness to explore. Sometimes it is not so much new territory as it is going deeper into already familiar areas.
This is the story of a deeper knowledge.
Scening with this man has always been delicious. I know him; know his body, all his secret thoughts and fantasies.
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It all started when I applied for a job as a server. That is a person who delivers court documents. When you are being sued or when an attorney is delivering some important documents, they hire a server to deliver the document to the person's door. I had just gotten out of the Army and I was a starving college student and needed extra money.
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"Then go fuck yourself!" I yelled as I stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door.
I was fuming. How dare Matt accuse me of "dragging him away on holiday"? I'd done no such thing. Our holiday in France was supposed to be fun for both of us. Huh! Not likely! Matt had done nothing but complain; he didn't like the food, the beer was too expensive, he couldn't get a Wi-Fi connection. Whinge, whinge, whinge!
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