I woke up when some fluid hit my face, then I smelt it. It was piss. Where the hell was I? Then two parts of darkness parted and I saw a face looking at me.
"Bonjour bonjour. En plein de vos la bouche je vous en prie."
So I opened my mouth and the piss squirted in. I just had to gulp it down. It tasted salty, I had forgotten the taste.
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My wife doesn't know about my sessions. She can never know. We live a very normal life. Too normal. Our sex is bland. It's always the same thing. Thanks to the internet, I have realized that I am interested in a lot of strange things. Karen would never understand. So I have my sessions with Mistress Nikki to get what I need sexually.
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My wife and I went camping at busy campground several years ago. Although the campsite had showers, the flush toilets were out of service and outhouses had been brought in. My wife can not stand to use an outhouse. When she found out, she didn't even want to stay at the campsite, although she loves camping.
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I love getting out of the office at lunchtime. It gives me an opportunity to clear my head, and listen to either Jim Rome or Colin Cowerd on sports talk radio, as I drive to one of the local eateries.
Since I'm trying to watch my waist, along with my budget, I usually hit the local Subway at least once a week. It's a fairly popular spot, so there's usually a line, but they do their best to keep it moving along.
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I had known Diana for over four years, since my husband came to the university here. We've always been friendly in a casual way, never close. We see each other about once every other month, mostly faculty social events involving our husbands. Mine is a bigshot professor, hers is the dean of the college and though they've become pretty good friends over the years, we've never socialized as a foursome.
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The morning sun shining through the window wakes me up. It's Saturday morning, which at this point in my marriage means it's my weekly chance of getting laid. I roll over to see if Rose is going to be interested, and her side of the bed is empty.
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It began with a dress.
She had always loved it. Loved how men looked at her when she wore it. But she always felt a little guilty. She had built her rep and her career on being being smart, forthright and right pretty much all the time. She fought the office battles on equal terms and never allowed her sexuality to come into it.
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Shane and I had known each other in college for 3 years. We were both tired of our roommates this year. Shane complained about his playing music late into the night while he tried to study. Mine was worried he would miss class so he woke up 3 hours early for his first class which was 3 hours earlier than I had to get up and was a slob.
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Brothers John and Drew had taken a week or so's holiday to go sea fishing on England's south coast, but after a few days being tossed about in the tiny tub they had managed to hire their stomachs demanded a reprieve. So the next day they took a holiday from their holiday.
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We were five satiated, sleek bitches filing into the bathroom, drunk on orgasms and a little weak at the knees. And it was all my doing. See, there's nothing I like as much as arranging little dyke orgies for a gaggle of foxy babes like myself, good-lookers who know how to turn on a slut and make her pussy steam and her clit swell!
Here we all were in the bathroom now, five ultra-feminine lipstick lesbians who had just spent the last couple of hours getting each other off with hot lips, wet tongues, eager fingers, and plenty of nasty toys.
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