The bass is hard. The temperature is hot. "Bar in the front, dancing in the middle, pool in the back...thankfully Aussie pubs aren't much different from American bars." I don't really attract that much attention until I open my mouth and order a coke. Then every eye is on the American with the weird accent ordering a decidedly "wimpy" drink. I shake off the stares with a smile as I peel my glasses off.
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My wife had to work Thanksgiving Day for about six hours, which was rare for someone in retail. She went in casually dressed in a nice pair of khaki pants, a nice blouse and some comfortable flats. We planned ongoing g to my parent's house later after she got home. This is a casual affair and we bother planned on having a few drinks before we go. When she got home we had a few beers while watching some football, I looked over and saw that she had on her black trouser sock that I bought for her. They gave the illusion that she had some sheer tights on.
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MMMmmmmmmmm, nothing like the feeling of waking after a long, luxurious sleep in!
Steve and I had been out with friends the night before, and the kids were staying at friends' houses, so we decided to sleep in and enjoy the moment alone.
I reached my arms out of the covers, and pointed my toes, my body stretching in that wonderful post-snooze glow. I stretched till I wanted to moan with pleasure, my long legs peeking out the bottom of the covers.
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As a writer here, I am quite different.
I write for women! I write in the 1st and 2nd person present text. I write for those women that are sexually bored, sadly underappreciated in their roles as girlfriend, wife and mother, or frightfully inhibited, but hiding a secret insatiable fantasy side...I write for those women that yearn to be in the grasp of strong, successful, attractive dominant men...men that are mysterious, successful, powerful, erotic.
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"I don't understand what she sees in him," said Michael, already feeling depressed at the thought of spending an evening with his arch nemesis, Nick.
"I know Michael. But... she's been my best friend forever and as long as she's happy, then... what can we do?"
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Mattie Addison looked down at the small plastic object her mom had just placed in her hands. "What is this?" She asked as she looked up at her parent.
"What does it look like?" Cybil replied to her daughter.
"It looks like your Platinum Card, but it can't be your Platinum Card because you'd never let me within 100 miles of that," Mattie said as she brushed some of her dark brown hair from her pretty face.
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As I told you in my first story, " The Boys from next door ", I currently own a home for retiree's. It, of course, caters for both men and women. I currently have eleven males and nine females. I employ twelve staff for nursing needs, eight females and four men. On top of that I also employ five catering staff. I, of course, jump in and help where-ever I'm needed. I've been doing this since my divorce four years ago. I enjoy it immensely. I have great satisfaction in making sure our elderly are well taken care of. For this reason, I'm very particular about who I employ.
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When I came into the bedroom and saw her off white skirt with the butterflies I knew it was going to be a great day and I was going to get to see her in heels and hose. I was ready and tending to the kids when she came out and she looked great. She had on her brown pumps and sheer Hanes silk reflections. I immediately got the camera and snapped as many picture as I could with the kids running around. My wife sat in her chair reading the paper and crossed her legs towards me, I could see the arch of her foot and she ever so slightly let her shoe slip on her foot a bit exposing just a tad bit more of her foot.
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As I closed my eyes, my hand gripped the pole and I swayed to the beat. It was Metallica, Nothing Else Matters. Slow, heavy, wonderful music. I moaned slightly and lifted my left leg off the floor in my high heels. My heaving chest pulsed as the wetness came to my pussy.
Dancing, I felt more alive than at any moment on earth. The eyes upon my body made me totally absorbed in my own sexual high.
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As a civilian apprentice working with the British Royal Navy back in the late 1970s, once my exams were out of the way I would spend my summer months working in places like Portsmouth, Plymouth, Newcastle and Glasgow to gain practical experience in the shipyards and naval bases. On my first visit to Plymouth, aged 19, little did I realise that I was about to gain practical experience on a more personal and life-changing level.
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