"Shit! Shitshhitshitshit!" Sarah quietly screamed, looking at the scrape on the back fender where she'd kissed the nearby post of the mall's underground parkade. Tears welled in her eyes. "What am I going to do?" she lamented, beginning to hyperventilate, as she considered her husband's response. She wasn't even supposed to be using his pride and joy, a maroon Carerra 4. She wouldn't have been either, except that her Audi was making weird noises.
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The bar was quite noisy with groups of people meeting after work to relay the day's events. There was a football game on the TV screens which was attracting loud groups of men, all with their opinion on how their team was performing.
Jan sat in a booth towards the back of the bar on her own. She was contemplating life – it had not been a good day. She had been late for work, had lost a big contract and had been given a hard time by her boss.
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After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door of Michelle's bedroom creaked open just enough for my short brunette girlfriend to stick most of her head out while one small hand wrapped around the door. Her shoulder-length medium-brown hair fell forward as her piercing eyes peered right at me as she mustered up the nerve to step out, her mouth obscured by the door and her hand. The only other things I could see in that moment were her toes as they protruded through the front of deep-blue shoes that I could tell were high heels.
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I'd flown through Germany a few times in the past but this time I'd decided to actually stopover and have a look around. My flight arrived in Frankfurt mid-afternoon on a Friday and as soon as I got in my hire car I found myself in gridlock traffic. I waded through it as the afternoon settled in and the rain clouds built up. By evening the city gave way to rolling green hills and I was on a motorway heading god knows where.
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"Mmmph.", I moaned, my mouth completely filled with the hard, throbbing member as I sucked it, my tongue working along the underside with horny zeal on it's way towards the tip. My head moved rhythmically back and forth as the head of his cock grazed my tonsils, then back out to the tip until my mouth was flooded with his thick, delicious cum.
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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect.
After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.
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I have always like the look of leather shorts that have a very short inseam. While looking through ebay one day, I came across some black leather shorts that looked quite sexy. They were square cut with a little v shaped notch at the sides of the hem. They were being sold by a manufacturer in Pakistan. I was a bit hesitant to order the shorts because the seller was in another country. The photographs of the shorts did look quite good and the description of the item convinced me to give it a try.
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I need to tell you about what happened here last week while you were away. You deserve to know and I just hope that you understand.
You left me on Monday last week and by the time Wednesday rolled around, my mind started to wonder. I started thinking about you and your tongue and your cock. I put on some lingerie to make myself feel sexy and opened a bottle of pinot. I sat at the computer trying desperately to find myself a story to get off to.
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The bus is crowded during rush hour, and you get pushed toward the back, standing in the aisle, held up by the bodies pressed against you. You only wore a flimsy little cotton sundress that day because of the heat, but now you're starting to wish you had a little more clothing on. The heat wave in this city has lasted so long, you think people might be getting a little crazy, yourself included.
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My friends always told me that my mom was a Milf. When I was younger, I used to feel embarrassed by this and I got into fights, even lost some friends. Over the years, I changed my mind, especially when my mom got divorced for the second time, and I was stuck taking care of my family like the man of the house. Playing the role of dad to two sisters, I began to see what my friends were seeing in my mother. I didn't tell her that, of course, and so I missed my chance for anything once she got remarried.
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