Ever sat back and thought about sexual situations in your past? I had quite a few in my 20's, good ones, bad ones, and down right awesome ones.
One year at a Halloween party for one...
I grew up in a small neighborhood. 45 houses in the neighborhood containing people of all ages and statuses. All of us kids knew each other, age was no barrier. Now close to 30, a few of my friends still lived here.
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I couldn't keep my eyes off of the elegant older woman sitting in the top row of the bleachers at the matinee of the ritzy horse fair.
I also couldn't help but notice that she was making a less than subtle production out of lowering her designer sunglasses and looking me up and down, smiling in a cat-that-wants-to-swallow-the-canary way. Younger women, or at least women who were my age, didn't begin to know how to smile like that.
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My wife and I were throwing our first Halloween party on the Saturday of the weekend before Halloween. My wife had gotten excited about the idea a month and a half before Halloween, excited about the different foods that could be made, the decorating, the invitations, her costume...
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On the outside I've never been weird in any way. I'm popular, with girls and guys. I have normal interests. I go to parties, get drunk, have fun, have normal relationships. I could have sex, normal sex, and enjoy it a normal amount.
But it is only when I think about rape that I really start to feel that heat like nothing else. A hollow aching inside me, yearning to be filled.
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Chloe was hot. She was young, blonde, intelligent, vivacious and generally popular. And she knew it.
Ashley wouldn't go so far as to call her vain, but he did consider her to have a lot of pride. That's was OK. He could work with pride. Pride would make her do things she really shouldn't, just to save face, and that same pride would help her justify her actions afterwards. Basically, it was wait and take the chance when offered.
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New Year's Eve is always one of my favorite holidays, and while my girlfriend Sarah and I don't go out to the bars anymore, we still like to get together with friends and have a good time. 2005, was no different, except now we have a house to entertain in. We had moved in that summer, a couple months after we had gotten engaged, so we were well established and ready to host a party by the time winter rolled around.
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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy.
Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.
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Maxwell Anderson Jr., or Max to most of his friends, had waited years to be allowed to attend his parent's annual Mardi Gras party. It was considered by many in their social circles to be the grandest party of the season. Max's mother, Edwina Anderson, was born and raised in New Orleans, and left when she married Maxwell Sr. so he could take a position that ultimately led to his running his own law firm. Edwina, like so many other wives of wealthy and successful husbands, was a 'bored housewife' who did charity work, worked out, and drank too much.
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The invitation came as something of a surprise. Sarah had worked at the office for the last three years but we hadn't really had much to do with each other. Her wedding was coming up and she was having a hen party. Wendy delivered the invitation to me and said that she hoped I'd come.
When I opened the invitation and saw what it was I immediately told Wendy that I didn't think I would go, citing the age difference between myself and the rest of the women as the reason.
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There were silky red thongs, lacy black bikinis, pearl white strings and soft blue french cuts. There couldn't be a more beautiful collection of lacy panties and bras anywhere. I had just returned to my apartment building from getting my morning coffee and was going upstairs, when my pretty neighbor from across the hall passed me with her laundry.
Being the polite guy that I am, I smiled and said "good morning" and she replied "hi" back. As we passed I peeked around my shoulder and got a glimpse of the treasures in her basket.
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