This time when he kissed her there was something different about it. Something more behind the pressure of his lips on hers, one of his broad hands splayed across her lower back, pulling her against him, the other on the back of her neck, controlling her movements. She shuddered when his tongue pressed past her teeth, licking like flames inside her mouth, and she opened her lips further to accept his assault. She didn't know what had brought this on;
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What can I say? I love anal! I really do! I don't even know how I grew to love it. It just happened. I remember seeing it for the first time in a video and thinking it was interesting. Before I knew it though, it was in every other video I watched.
I mean, I love regular fucking as well, but there's an animal quality to anal that pussy fucking can't seem to reach. Think of a woman's vagina and you're thinking of something sacred.
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I hadn't seen Mick in over ten years. But those blond curls, the muscular shoulders, even from the back I knew it was him.
"Hey stranger..." I said.
He turned to face me. Time stopped, just for an instant, and then he smiled.
"Hey back." I had forgotten about that grin. Sexy, cheeky, it could get him out of absolutely anything. "It's been a long time. What are you up to these days, missy?"
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"Her legs look like a road map! Their cover in veins." He tells me angrily.
"You use to say it was a road map to paradise." She says hotly.
"Yea then I followed that map and ended up in Death Valley. There are places there you could get out of with a GPS and a four wheel drive!" He screams back at her.
If you can imagine this is the kind of things I listen to for a living. I get paid to help people get through their marital troubles.
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I was watching a hot, nasty porn tape, dick in hand, having a perfectly good solo time one Saturday night at my new place. I'd lived here just a month after answering an apartment-sharing ad Jimmy had placed. He had a nice, spacious two-bedroom spread in West Hollywood that he needed to share with someone, and the rent was good.
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I had both the advantages and curses of being a rock star. I could afford to go anywhere I wanted on the spur of the moment or as the mood hit me, but if a mood hit me that would land me in the tabloids, I'd better be prepared to go to the ends of the earth. The mood had hit me to get the most exotic and total fuck that I could find by the most talented cocksman I could attract. I had been on open exhibition for months and could have had any woman I'd wanted during that time.
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I walked into the truck stop diner and was surprised to lay my eyes on an old truckin' buddy, Hank. I hadn't seen him for a couple of years. We both haul loads Coast to Coast, but rarely cross paths.
"So, how you doin' good buddy?" he asked.
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I love touching my pussy. I love the feeling of my most personal effect in my hand. I love bringing myself to orgasm by playing with my pussy. I love the feeling of being in charge of my own happiness. I love feeling my silken gift at my fingertips, and the feeling of intimacy that it provides for me.
I've also had to learn to love all of those things.
I've come to love them over the last several years, as masturbation is my only true sexual outlet right now.
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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type.
So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought.
For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.
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I walked home in the glaring sun as sprinklers tinkled on the lawns of our neighbours and sweat seeped slowly into my clothes. I wiped my brow and held the straps of my backpack, beneath which the thin material of my school shirt was nearly saturated. The temperature had risen steadily over the past week and the heat wave was now at its peak.
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