Cleo and I were both nurses in our late twenties employed at the local hospital. We had been seeing each other for almost a year when we worked the same shift we always took our evening meal together once the patients had settled down and our wards were quite.
On an unusually balmy night in September we had arranged to meet on the flat roof of a disused hospital block to enjoy the warm night air, snatch a meal and a little quality time alone.
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Shrugging into the jacket of his tuxedo, Jacob smiled hearing the chatter of the crowd that had rapidly gathered in the parking lot below him in anticipation of the doors of the club opening. Earlier while making his rounds seeing that everything was ready he shook his head glancing outside seeing the wealth of jewelry that flashed and the vibrant colors of the couture clothing the women were sporting as they clung to the arms of their tuxedo clad gentlemen.
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"The doctor's ready to see you now, sir," the receptionist said, waving him through to the doctor's office. It was like any other doctor's surgery - magazines in the waiting room, a clean, professional doctor's office with an examination table in the centre. The difference being that Dr. Litt only attended to a very specific clientele.
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As long as I have been working as a school librarian, I have traveled every August to a convention the state's Education Department sponsors for teachers, administrators, and anyone else involved in schooling. Usually, my husband, Dan, accompanies me on these trips, and for the last eight or nine years, we have been joined by Janice, a Spanish teacher at the high school where I work, and her husband, Bill.
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A few years ago, Connie worked as a bookkeeper for a small chain of home improvement stores in Pennsylvania. At the time, she had been married for about 8 years and had 2 small children. From time to time, the company would send her to accounting seminars. Connie was happy with her personal life, but she relished the trips.
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It was a blistering hot summer day. I had just walked a couple of miles from the auto dealer repair shop where I had left my car for a tune up. Normally it's a pleasant walk but today it was just sweaty. I was nearly home when a voice behind me said, "Oh good, could you help me with this?"
I heard her bike come to a stop. It was Kimberly, my neighbor, kitty corner from across the street. I was standing right in front of her house. Kimberly and her husband are a young couple that purchased their first home here several months ago. Kimberly is a grade school teacher.
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Funny it happened when we tried "The Invisible Man." I've always wondered about that.
Everybody's tried auto-blow, bending into a pretzel, trying to suck your own cock. Everybody's tried it, especially when younger.
A flexible guy like my Chuck-o can lie back, roll his hips up, bring his feet back over his head, knees to his chest, and get his own dick down between his lips. Gives himself a blowjob.
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'It's a funny old world.' B thought to herself as she ground her crotch hard against Maria's. A few hours ago she almost stayed in for the evening. The couple she'd arranged to meet had called and cancelled but since B had spent so long getting glammed up she was reluctant to let all that effort go to waste. She'd still been debating with herself when the taxi she'd booked earlier settled it by turning up.
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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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One thousand, eight hundred, and seventy-one visible stars danced above his head in the sky, circling about, scintillating, putting on their constant ballet for all those below. Not for the first time, he wondered at how many intelligences he was staring. Millions? Trillions? Or perhaps it was zero.
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