When I was 25, I lived alone in a one bedroom apartment in a rather large apartment complex with 1, 2, and 3 bedroom units. I had moved there after breaking up with a long-time girlfriend, and was enjoying being a single, independent adult for the first time in my life.
One Saturday night, I had decided to stay at home, mainly because I had just paid the rent, and my cash flow situation was not very good at the time.
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Browsing around the adult store, I looked at everything as though I hadn't seen it all for the hundredth time. This was my favorite pastime whenever I was in the city and early for an appointment. I loved all the different sized dildos with their dazzling colors and features.
I picked one up and felt it, running my hand up and down the thick, veined trunk and feeling instantly excited.
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It was her day. The trip to Boston without our kids was my idea, and after checking into a luxury hotel and putting a nice bottle of wine in the refrigerator, I spent the entire first day in the city with Kara, my wife, letting her shop to her heart's content. This delighted her to no end, as our little town doesn't have the shops and selection of a major city. She loved the attention I paid to her and the time I allowed for her to shop with no pressure to hurry it along. In short, she was in a great mood by the time the afternoon concluded.
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Ellen and I have been so busy raising our children and meeting our responsibilities that we somehow managed to avoid spending time together for about ten years. We grew distant, but still loved each other. In fact, I have always lusted after my wife. When we were dating, Ellen had a wild side. We made love in cars, on beaches, and in the woods; where a hiker once caught us. I remember it well because Ellen was on top of me and just told the guy to move along as if he had found us picnicking.
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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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After three days of the sales conference, Steve was sick. Sick of giant pieces of paper stuck to the wall covered with vague, ridiculous words regarding goals and mission, sick of pointless team building exercise but mostly sick of long evenings spent with amateur drinkers who felt free to let loose, particularly since they were far away from home in the French Quarter of New Orleans.
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He was about a head taller than me. Dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and full round lips. His name was...What was it? I had one of those moments where my heart began to race and I began to think of all the crazy things I've heard of starting like this.
'He walked into the house, still and silent. No one was around, but he could feel a presence. Just as he heard the creek of the floorboards, he turned too late and was knocked unconscious." Then you end up chained in some weirdo's basement for three months. Or in an tub full of ice minus one kidney.
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I pull up to the curb, around the corner from my apartment. It has been a very long day and more than anything I am glad to be home and am looking forward to a nice long bath, some quiet music.
I turn off the car, and look out my window before opening the door. For a moment my attention is drawn to the other side of the street. It is only for a moment and I shake my head, thinking I have caught myself starting to day dream. Checking for traffic I open my car door and get out.
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"Half an hour to go," I thought. We closed at six o'clock on Fridays, and I was definitely ready to go home. It had been a long week at the shoe store where I worked. Michelle, the owner, had decided to hold a big summer sale to try to boost the business. It's hard for a small boutique store to compete with the big chains, so I understood the need, but it had been a crazy week. Michelle did a good job promoting the sale.
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How long can you last just sitting by the hotel pool on holiday without getting bored? I can go about an hour before I start to shuffle.
Have you every got so bored by the pool you played imaginary games? Looking at the bikini clad women and guessing if they have shaved, trimmed or hairy little cunnies, if they had a good pounding last night, what they look like when they come and, my favourite, my top ten shagables in each position.
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