The morning mist covered the grass and flowers; it was a beautiful May morning in Georgia. Birds were chirping and a slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees that lined the long driveway that led to a spacious mansion. It was difficult for Nora to believe that she was only sixty miles out side of Atlanta;
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I'm writing this as I watch a copy of a video we made last Saturday afternoon. I should probably erase it, but I just can't seem to do it.
We had a softball game, and afterwards I invited the guys over for a swim. Some of the guys just took a quick dip and left, but Andre, Carlo and Tony are single, with a reputation as the party animals on our team, and they stuck around for the rest of the afternoon.
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Laura and I had arrived in Jamaica only four hours before. We hadn’t been ballsy enough to bring our own pot and decided that we needed to look for some. As everyone knows, the island is swimming in the stuff and we didn’t think there would be any problem.
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My girlfriend, Trinh, and I have been together for a little over two years now. We met and started dating during our sophomore year in college; we took each other's virginity a few months into the relationship. While the logistics of having sex with Trinh hasn't always been easy -- we don't live together and each of us has roommates -- the sex itself has usually been satisfying, at least I think so, and Trinh seems to think so, too, from what I can tell.
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The evening sky was painted vivid colors of crimson, yellow, purple and azure. The sun was just passing over the horizon completely. I was anxious, alright, I was downright scared. What had I agreed to? What was it that made me want to be on the "list" for eight and a half months?
As I walked down the crowded avenue, I wondered if anyone could tell what I was about to do.
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My wife and I had been lying in bed talking after a round of great sex. When I say great sex, I mean great sex, which is what we usually have. On rare days, its no sex at all. A bad day is good sex, and on good days it's spectacular sex. This had been a normal day, which is to mean it was great.
"Mmm, I love you, honey," I murmured as she rolled off me.
"I love you, too," she answered. "I also lust you." I laughed at that.
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You have a better chance of appreciating this story if you have a large closet full of dresses that were carefully chosen to look professional and a small drawer of lace and silk originally intended for your husband alone. If you're a man who wants me to swallow a big load of cum by the second paragraph, then you'll get along with my husband; but you'll have to look elsewhere for a story. Even in my husband's stories, I never seem to get laid by another man (or women) until the bottom of the first page or the top of the second.
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11:45 pm, the Sheraton, Tacoma, Washington.
Rosette Cole was descending in the elevator from her 26th floor hotel room, contemplating her next move. As something that always on her mind, she wanted sex in that place and knew that there would be no problem getting it. But she wasn't in the mood for the ordinary that night; she needed something different. It's not as though she really had ordinary sex at all though; traveling from city to city around the world on the Black Card daddy gave her having one night stands was never ordinary and no two stories alike.
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Fiona applied the last of her mascara then started to pack her make up away. The doorbell rang and she walked into the hallway. "Darren, the babysitter has arrived are you nearly ready?" She opened the front door. "Evening Ying, come in and make yourself at home." Ying, the daughter of a family friend, was now Darren and Fiona's regular babysitter for their two-year-old son Joshua.
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That Night
Life was good, Alicia thought as she tugged the zippered front of her black top halfway down to her navel. The action revealed most of her large tits and another tug promised to release them completely.
Her red-hot figure and wavy light brown hair were all part of her persona. So were the short, pleated skirt and knee-high boots that would make a holy man think 'sex.' She looked like a wet dream and her job as a DJ in the small London nightclub not only gave her access to the City's club scene, it hooked her up with a seemingly unlimited supply of young, liberated guys.
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