Peaches, peaches everywhere but not a bite to eat.
I was pondering upon my existence and lack of life while downing my second glass of whisky. A hunger deep inside me resided for many months with no opportunity for quenching. Suddenly a gorgeous peach appeared before me begging to be eaten. Mind oblivious to my body's actions, I was madly devouring the fruit with out any thought involved.
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"I've been cheating on you."
My body froze as the simple sentence left her lips. I tried to speak but my mind remained completely blank as I struggled to find the words to respond to my girlfriend's confession. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. A variety of emotions teemed forth, battling one another for supremacy within the maelstrom of my thoughts.
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I'd know Cathy since College where she had dated my best friend at the time for a couple of years. For some reason we'd never gotten on very well, I think possibly because she caught me starring at her once or twice when we'd all been hanging out at the beach. To be honest I didn't really care if we got on, I was never quite sure why Simon liked her so much as she was a bit full of herself.
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Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed.
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"Here you go, babydoll. Cabernet okay?"
I nodded and took the glass from him, motioning for him to come sit next to me in the little corner booth. I know it's silly, but I couldn't really bear to have him sit all the way across the table - not when he could be right there next to me, his arm around me, his thigh pressed against mine.
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There I was, lying on my bed with my rigid cock in my hand. I'd been edging myself closer and closer to orgasm for near an hour now, and could tell that I was getting close to maximum pressure. My wife was out with her friend shopping, I'd hoped that she would be home in time to suck me off and swallow this ever growing load, but the chances of that were growing slim. My computer lay next to me on the bed, the screen flickering with a maddening array of eroticism.
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Kate was a very quiet girl, and I often needed to ask her to repeat herself. She didn't really open herself up personally, so even after a few years of working together, I still didn't feel like I really knew her. That said, she was also just a little bit flirtatious, and I flirted with her whenever possible as she was absolutely gorgeous.
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My hands were trembling as I sipped on my chocolate martini. I was fidgeting with the rim of the glass, running my finger around the lip of the martini glass. I kept glancing down at my watch, anxiously waiting for him to arrive. The surprise I had for him was becoming more than I could handle, as I was itching to have my fun.
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Mom was laying back in the pillows, leaning back on her elbows. I stood and gazed at her sexy loveliness; prefect body, sexy and nude, my mother. Lying there in the soft glow of the candlelight she looked like a classic Playboy centerfold, come to life; perfect.
"So," she finally smiled seductively at me, "Is my handsome, studly son ready to actually fuck his own mother's juicy, wet pussy?" she grinned wickedly, her eyes dropping to my hard cock, bouncing with eager anticipation.
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Sheila and I have become somewhat of a matched set; we really enjoy each other's company and well as each other's body. We spend a lot of quality time together doing all sorts of things, from shopping to exploring parks to sometimes even going out with no destination in mind, just to be together. For example, last week we hopped in the car with no place to go in mind. It was a warm day in May and we took our dogs with us.
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