The water over the sandbar lapped at my legs just above my ankles. I stood remembering that day not so long after I came to the beach at the start of summer, that day Brenda and I kissed and held each other right here. Now it was the end of summer and tomorrow I would be leaving.
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It was a long deserted stretch of highway, miles and miles of nothing. Susan pulled off the interstate for gas. The gas station was there just off the off ramp, and a sign pointed to a town, but there was nothing else in sight. She pulled up to the pumps, and got out. A wave of hot dry dusty air rolled over her as she started filling her tank. Her attention was drawn to an old beat up truck, and a young couple arguing, just across from her.
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"Come on Jazz, I'm serious."
"Get out," the short black woman said, throwing her hands up.
"Why not?" Regina whined.
"You're serious." Jasmine said incredulously.
"Yes, I'm serious," the tall blonde earnestly replied.
'Dr. Ethridge to the ballistics lab, please' the PA announced, interrupting them.
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It was around Christmas that I had broken up with my boyfriend and wasn't really looking to date anyone. My best friend Toni gave me a gift certificate to a fancy new day spa as a way to lift my spirits. She talked me taking a day off to do something for myself as the New Year's Party was later that week.
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We looked a while for the right woman. I'd met several for coffee, but for one reason or another, I hadn't been comfortable with any of them. Finally, we had found her. John and I were meeting her in the bar of a resort hotel where we had booked a room. Maura insisted on a late date, not wanting to have dinner with us.
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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.
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It all began when I asked Shira: "Have you been a good little girl?"
My wife had been dreading this moment for hours. Indeed, she had known about her impending mortification for days. Even so, she began to blush and cry at once. It was bad enough to be treated like a baby, but to be treated so in front of her best friend was particularly humiliating.
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"I've never had an orgasm."
It took a few seconds for those words to register in my brain. It was so random, so out of the blue and so very unexpected that I didn't quickly grasp the meaning. Looking over at Sarah, I lifted my head to fully look at her and asked, "What?"
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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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It started out in the usual way, with Leslie going downstairs to the corporate gym to exercise, just like she did nearly every day. For 30 minutes the petite blonde climbed up the stair climber. At 29, she was still proud of her body and she took care of it so that she would remain so. She stood around 5' 5" and weighed in around 101 pounds.
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