Breeding season was always a bitch. Jasper knocked down another drink as he took in his surroundings. He wasn't generally a fan of women - he preferred his fuck toys to be men, but breeding season came with the overwhelming urge to mate. He needed to fuck his cubs into some bitch, and unfortunately, she couldn't be a werewolf. Women of his own species couldn't carry cubs to term - they lost them at the first change. This meant that males had to outsource, and as the leader of the pack, he needed to find a woman to pump his cubs into.
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"Sure" you texted me.
It was a simple, unvarnished word, but in this instance, laden miraculously with the stuff of utter elation.
I had arranged a trip out to the mountains on a pretext with the hope of seeing you for the first time. It was a very adult thing, I reflected on the flight over.
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The band's manager turned to Erin and smiled. "The guys like you."
Erin's brown eyes lit up. "Do you think so?"
This would be her fantasy come true.
"I know so," the tall, graying man stated and handed the young girl a cloth pass marked All Access in bold white lettering. "After the show," he grinned, "knock on the bus."
If she had won the lottery, Erin wouldn't have been happier than she was at that moment.
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He had never told me his name.
That realization hit me suddenly, forcefully, as I hesitated in the doorway of the large, immaculate, well-appointed suite. The very upscale hotel clearly lived up to its advertising -- which used words like "discerning tastes," "classically comfortable," and even "the ideal destination for enjoyment of discrete leisure activities."
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You stand before me, hands behind your back, awaiting instruction attentively. I gesture in a way you understand. You unhook your bra, slide off your panties and hand them to me. I inhale the warm undergarments, kiss them, then set them aside.
I step closer, grip you firmly by your upper arms and lower my head onto your throat, just under your collar.
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Another long day at work is at an end. It has been a week of non stop demands at work and I am ready for some relaxation. Tossing my clothes as I head for the bathroom, leaving a trail of laundry to be picked up later, I stop to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Unable to resist, I pinch my nipples to hard peaks, moaning softly in the quiet of the house. Bending to put the plug in the tub, then start a nice hot bath, spilling some bubble bath in, inhaling the scent of wild strawberries.
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This was the test. "Zenith, take down your pants, NOW." 25 year old Enrico said to his insolent young wife. Zeni tossed her hair at Ric "What the hell are you doing, this is my family reunion." But Ric could see the challenge in her eyes, and he was enthralled by the way her light brown curls bounced against her shoulders as she attempted to flounce away from him.
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My name is Jen; I've been married now for three years to my husband Tim. I think we have a good relationship and sex life. He'd probably say it could be better but that's a typical guy, always wanting more. But that's not the point of the story. No, I'm writing today because of what happened last week why it's fresh in my mind.
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He is lying in her arm, she touches his face, her gentle voice is sending shivers down his spine, just like all the times. She is playing with his nipples again, they are already hurting a bit. She is talking to him with her calm voice. He had to masturbate in front of her and had to stop just before cumming. Cumming was strictly forbidden. Just using his full strength he was able to do so. She knew more about his body than he did himself. When there were only two or three moves left until his explosion he heard her gentle order: "Stop!"
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