It was the thing she had for swoopy haired boys, Gwen decided, that made it so difficult for her to dislike Julian Swanson.
And she really wanted to dislike him.
Why?
The reasons were many. His laziness, his money and the spoiled churlish attitude he wore with pride—fostered by his fawning mother— were at the top of the list.
read more
Daniel and I had been together almost a year. I had moved to Portland for a teaching job and didn't know anyone, but had hooked up with Daniel in the spring of my first year at the high school. He'd come into my classroom to recruit students for summer jobs maintaining trails in the city parks. He was handsome with his brown eyes and golden hair, and he was smart and funny without being cynical and his professional life was devoted to making a difference in kids' lives. I couldn't help but fall for him.
read more
His hand came down again on her bare bottom in front of him. The slap was loud. She whimpered softly. The sting of his hand excited her and she felt the warmth of her secretions flood between her legs. Her flesh vibrated and teased her as she felt them resonate to her sex and sensitive breasts.
read more
The early morning flight settled softly onto the runway rousing us from our light slumber, the heat of the day burst into the cabin as the main doors opened and the fragrant smells of the island filled the air. We made our way out, gathered our luggage, & shuffled through customs before we finally climbed into our rental car. Kate navigated as we made our way across the island the small beachside villa we'd rented.
read more
OK, I admit it. I have a real fascination for a woman’s ass. Not all asses, but nice pear-shaped ones. If I see a woman walk by, the first place I look is behind. Well, maybe not the first, if she is walking towards me, but I will make an extra effort to look back as she walks past me.
First let me tell you a little about myself. I’m 51; about 5 foot 9 inches tall, 175 lbs, graying hair.
read more
I didn't know how best to describe my desires as I grew older, at least I never truly acknowledged them from fear of judgment until I met Him.
January. Two weeks ago.
I was rushing to class when I first saw Him. He was chatting with a good friend of mine, dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans.
read more
While washing dishes in the sink, I didn't hear him come in over the rush of water. Suddenly there was a press of a warm body against my back with strong hands encircling my waist, reaching up to catch my breasts.
"Miss me?" He breathed into my ear, tickling.
I groaned as he began to unbutton my shirt. Once unbuttoned, he pushed up my bra and began to tug and twist on my nipples.
read more
I'm so done with this school, with these ridiculous uniforms and my jackass classmates trying to look up my skirt and down my shirt. (Who picked these clothes? I mean the skirt is halfway up the thighs for god's sake. And these shirts must have been designed for girls who, well, didn't develop as early and as, uh, fully as me - which, trust me, is not all it's cracked up to be, big tits are huge pain even in clothes that weren't poorly designed for someone a lot _smaller_.
read more
She stands in front of the apartment. Naked thighs cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the long coat she wears. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. He heart is racing as she raises her hand to knock on the door. Her nipples harden immediately. She knocks, once, then twice before she takes a small step back.
read more
Her heartbeat pounds out a familiar rhythm as she waits in the dark, stretched silently across the mattress like an offering, knowing he's on his way. The sensation of her pulse is primal. She's tried to fill the long desolate stretch of daylight hours, anticipation rising with the setting of the sun. A few more hours, a few more mundane tasks, a little more self control. It's a mountain she climbs daily, the precipice of which she now balances on, waiting alone in the tangle of blankets.
read more