The Ritual

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She comes to him in the still of the night. There is no sound except for the creaks and cracking of a house that can only come in total darkness. Without opening his eyes, he feels her lift the sheets and crawl in beside him, feeling her body snuggle up from behind. Her familiar feminine scent fills the air of the room, her pointed breasts with rock hard nipples now pressing into his back. He begins to lift his head and as per the nightly ritual, he holds still as she binds his eyes shut tight.

She rolls him over onto his back, raising his arms above his head, and slowly ties his hands to the headboard posts. She is straddling him, her body swaying above his. He can feel her soft tummy on his chest, her breasts scraping against his light beard as she makes sure he is secured. Her breath feels so damn good on his face as she kisses her way down, across his cheeks, barely touching his lips, his chin. She pushes his face upwards and sucks ever so gently on his neck, leaving little love bites as she works her way to his hard nipples.

He lets out an bayan escort ankara eerie groan as she tugs them with her teeth, making him emit a raspy shrill hiss through his clenched teeth. Not a word is spoken; it never is as she teasingly moves downwards licking his navel area until finally, she allows the tip of his hard penis to brush against her lips. His cock twitches, doing a small dance as she tries her best to tongue the dripping wetness, without using her hands to guide his swollen member. Finally the head pops into her mouth, allowing her cheeks to cave in around the shaft as she sucks tightly. Like a small vacuum she sucks every drop of pre-cum, swallowing it as if it was some rare wine.

He struggles, wanting to pull her tightly against him, to feel her whole body against his but she rebukes him, preferring to tease, taunt and tantalize him.

All too soon she pulls away from his rigid flesh and she crawls up his body. Using her hands on his shoulders, she pushes herself upright until she is straddling demetevler escort his waist, and agonizingly slow, she lowers herself onto him. Her wet pussy envelops his cock at a snail’s pace, one inch at a time. She begins to rock her hips, using them as a pendulum to take him a bit deeper with every swing of her pelvis.

He wraps his fingers around the material that bind his hands and he uses them for momentum as he tries to match her stroke for stroke. He pushes his groin up, hoping that in some miraculous way; he can go so deep into her womb so that he becomes a part of her, a part of her soul.

As she rides him she leans forward, kissing him, their tongues doing battle, a dance. Her soft hair cascades around his face; he wishes he could see it, the colors and the shape, instead settling for the feel as it creates a web of sensuality around him.

As if fucking to some symphony, their bodies move in complete unison, a familiarity of a couple that had been making love for years, knowing ankara evi olan escort what drove the other to the highest of heights.

She rides his cock as if she is riding in the Kentucky Derby, urging him on, bringing him to the finish line, a true champion. She grabs his nipples tugging them, making him fuck her harder, faster, and all too soon he feels himself shooting up into her sweet love hole, her pussy milking every drop of his hot thick cum.

She falls forward, collapsing on him as his cock twitches, releasing every miniscule bit of spunk for her.

As they lay there, their breathing returning to normal, he whispers in her ear how much he loves her, only to be shushed, her fingers covering his lips, the signal to just enjoy the moment.

He is sure he hears her softly crying, whimpering, and he feels his own tears start to form. She gives him the sweetest kiss a man could hope for, and almost like chloroform, he is off to dreamland.

When he awoke the next morning, the dream still so lifelike in his head, the tears returned as he thought back to the nightly ritual of the last month, the recurring dreams ever since his wife of 30 years passed away, knowing it was her coming to him as she promised she would.

He sadly turned over and his eyes opened wide. There was her lipstick on the pillow and red silk stockings still tied to the bedpost. Could it have been?

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The Presentation

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Amy leaned back in her office chair, rubbed her eyes and stared at the computer screen. Her brain was exhausted. She was in the middle of a major marketing presentation for her boss that was due to tomorrow when her computer screen suddenly went blank.

“Shit, shit, shit,” cried Amy, “why is this happening now? I need to get this done.” Amy looked over the top of her cubicle, but she didn’t see a soul. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 9:11 p.m. Her co-workers had gone home hours ago. Amy hit the monitor a few times, but nothing happened. The screen was still blank.

She remembered that her company had a 24 hour IT Help desk. She prayed some competent geek was working who could help her. She quickly lifted the handset and dialed. Someone answered on the third ring.

“Help desk. What is your computer problem?” asked a monotone voice.

“Hi, this is Amy Johnson in marketing on the 7th floor. I was working on a very important presentation for my boss, Mr. Sweeney, that is due tomorrow and my screen went totally blank. I think I lost everything! Can someone help me?” pleaded Amy.

“Well, Ms. Johnson, we are a little short staffed tonight. Chad was on his way home, but I’ll see if he can stop by your cubicle before he goes,” replied the Help desk operator curtly.

“Thanks so much,” said Amy. She hoped that Chad could fix her machine. She stood and stretched her long legs. She had been working on this presentation for weeks. Just this morning, Mr. Sweeney had asked her to look at one more option for the brand. The request had thrown Amy into a tailspin and she had been crunching numbers all day. She remembered she had not eaten anything since breakfast and she was starving.

“I must look like a wreck,” she thought to herself. She grabbed her purse and took out a hairbrush. She quickly combed escort bayan şişli her long, reddish brown hair and applied some lipstick to her full lips. She heard footsteps and she stashed her things back in her desk drawer.

A tall, broad shouldered man was standing at the opening of her cubicle. He had dark, curly hair and intense green eyes. Smiling at Amy, Chad checked her out from head to toe. When she stood up from her desk to greet him, her short red mini skirt rode up slightly on her hips. Chad noticed her long, athletic legs.

“You must be Chad. I’m Amy. Please help. I am in the middle of this important presentation that is due tomorrow. I don’t know what happened. The screen just went blank,” explained Amy.

“Let me take a look at it,” said Chad as he approached her computer. The cubicle was tiny and as he walked past her, their bodies brushed against each other. Amy blushed and did not say a thing.

Chad sat down in front of the computer and hit a few buttons. Amy heard several clicks, but the screen remained blank. In the reflection of the blank screen, Chad could see Amy’s shiny hair and red, lush lips. Her breasts looked full, and firm beneath her silk blouse. He felt himself getting aroused.

“Look Amy, your monitor is blown. There is nothing I can do tonight. I am actually off the clock so I will write up a ticket and someone will come by tomorrow to bring you a new monitor,” said Chad.

“NO!” shouted Amy,” you don’t understand I have got to get this done or my boss will crucify me. Can’t you help me? I will write a great letter to your boss about your going above and beyond the call of duty if you help me tonight.”

Chad liked her. She was really panicked and he was enjoying it in some way. He liked the fact that a marketing person was escort beşiktaş not in control for once.

“Amy, that’s nice but I don’t really need another letter for my personnel file,” said Chad as he stifled a yawn.

“Okay, what do you need? I will pay you cash to stay and fix my monitor,” pleaded Amy.

“I don’t need your money,” said Chad. He watched her get more and more frustrated with him.

“Fine, what do you need Chad? What can I give you to get you to stay and help me?” asked an exasperated Amy.

Chad took two steps towards Amy and took her right hand and placed it on the growing bulge in the front of his pants. Amy did not recoil. It had been a long time since she had felt an erection.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Amy matching Chad’s stare.

“Well Amy, I think you know what I want. I want to fuck your mouth,” said Chad in a husky voice. He took her slender hand and rubbed it against the fly of his pants.

“Let’s be clear. I give you a blow job and you will fix my monitor?” asked Amy.

“Yeah, I will fix it tonight,” said Chad. He sat down in her office chair and put his hands behind his head in anticipation of what was to come.

Amy kneeled on the floor in front of him between his legs She could not believe that she had just agreed to give him a blowjob, but she needed to finish the presentation. She unzipped his pants. She could see the bulge in his white cotton briefs. The sight of his hard cock aroused her.

“Wait,” ordered Chad, “I want you to be able to reach all of me.” He quickly pulled his pants and briefs down to his ankles.

Gingerly, Amy took Chad’s cock in her hands. She began to stroke the thick shaft with her hands. Chad was rock hard and his face was flushed with excitement.

“A deal’s a deal, Amy. Suck me,” esenyurt escort ordered Chad.

Amy slowly licked the head of Chad’s cock with the tip of her tongue. She alternated between nibbling and licking. Chad moaned softly as her tongue swirled over the head of his cock. She opened her mouth fully and took Chad inside of her. She imagined how carnal she must look sucking off a total stranger. This thought excited her and she began to suck harder and to take Chad deeper into her throat. He moaned with pleasure and placed his hands on the back of Amy’s head. He forced her head all the way down his shaft. Amy continued to suck his cock and simultaneously massage his balls. Chad reached down and put his hand between Amy’s legs. She was clearly excited and her wetness intensified Chad’s lust.

Chad pulled his cock out of Amy’s mouth. He stood up from her chair and pulled her off of the floor.

“What are you doing?” asked Amy. Wordlessly Chad turned Amy to face her desk and then bent her over it. He yanked her panties down and spread her legs. She could feel his still hard cock at the entrance to her pussy.

“I am going to fuck your hot cunt now,” said Chad as he began to enter her.

“Oh my God! That feels so good,” cried Amy, “yes, please fuck my cunt.” She lifted her bottom up so Chad would have easy access. Holding tightly onto her hips, Chad forcefully thrust himself into Amy. He continued to thrust until he felt her shudder and orgasm. He held her tightly as he exploded inside of her. Chad let Amy finish spasming before he pulled out of her. He helped her to her feet.

“Are you okay,” Chad asked. Amy nodded her head.

“My monitor,” said Amy as she pointed to her computer.

“Yeah, right. A deal’s a deal,” said Chad. He reached behind the computer and reconnected the cord that went to the monitor. The screen blinked and Amy’s presentation popped up.

“That’s all it needed?” cried Amy, “the stupid cord was out?”

“A deal’s a deal, Amy. I fixed it and I think I helped you in the process,” said Chad grinning. With that he left and Amy sat down to finish her presentation.

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The Plumber

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Hmmm, no answer. That’s strange. I knocked on the door again. Still no answer, and no sounds coming from inside. Mrs. Peterson knew I was coming, she sounded very glad when I told her last night on the phone that I could come and fix her kitchen faucet first thing this morning.

I set my toolbox down, and went around to the garage. The door was closed, and her SUV was parked in front. I glanced around the back yard. Nothing. I went back to the front door, and knocked again. She must be down in the basement doing laundry.

Since she knew I was coming, I went inside, setting my toolbox on the kitchen floor. I opened the door to the cellar, but the lights were off, and no sounds coming from the washer. Now I was getting concerned, and decided to look for her. I made my way down the hall, opening doors and looking inside.

Reaching the end of the hall, I opened the door to the master bedroom, and that’s where I found her. Sound asleep, dead to the world, lying in a sea of pillows on her huge bed. I started to back out of the room, figuring she would wake to my work sounds. I heard a sound, a soft moaning. Turning, I saw her roll over onto her right side, facing away from me, her body in a slight stretch. In doing so, the sheet and blanket had been pushed down to her hips, and I was left to stare at her back.

Her long, luscious back. The gentle curve off her hip to the slight hollow at the small of her back. Her skin smooth and firm all the way up to her shoulders, her arms outstretched above her head, hands almost touching. Her chestnut hair, in its’ morning dishevel, flowing across her shoulders and upper back.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. She was beautiful. I moved slowly to the foot of the bed to view her in profile. My eyes traveled up from her beautifully curved hip to her firm flat stomach opposite the graceful curve of her lower back. Upwards, to the side of her left breast, perfectly rounded and proud, tipped in a small nub of a nipple and all but devoid of an areola. Her face was partially hidden by her outstretched arm.

I wanted to see more, so ever so carefully I gently pulled downward on the sheets. avrupa yakası escort They moved to expose another couple of inches of her. She didn’t move, the gentle heaving of her breasts to her breathing unchanged. I gently pulled again, sliding the sheets down to the top of her thighs. Again, no movement from her.

I slipped to her side of the bed, facing her head on. I drank her in, the smooth contours of her face, caught in her morning beauty. Her exquisite body, stretched before me in a sensual pose. I stood there, transfixed by a true sleeping beauty.

My captivation with the splendor of what lay before me was broken by a sound, another soft sigh. Effortlessly she rolled onto her stomach, pushing her arms out further above her head in a cat-like stretch. Then she was still again, her breathing calm.

I let my eyes travel her body again, how smooth and taut it was. Her latest movement had dislodged a small mountain of pillows, revealing what appeared to be a pale green snake. Moving closer, I saw that it was a coiled soft rope that was attached to the headboard, the other end tied into a slipknot. A deviously delicious thought entered my head.

I carefully leaned across her, taking the looped end of the rope and slipping it over her outstretched hands. I slowly tightened the slipknot, holding her wrists snuggly together. Pulling the other end around the headboard, using it to hold her hands in their out reached position. She moaned softly, wriggling against the bed.

Looking around the room, I spotted a silk scarf on the dresser. Carefully folding it on the diagonal into one long wide band, I laid it on the pillow above her head. Slowly working the scarf side to side, I slipped it lower onto her face, working it towards her eyes. She moaned again, deeper, as the scarf covered her eyes and was tied down.

Stepping back, I watched her as I removed my clothes. Lost in an erotic dream, she writhed on the bed, grinding down into it. Once naked, I kneeled alongside of her. Leaning forward, I placed my fingertips on the back of her neck, letting them glide avrupa yakası eskort down, barely touching her skin as they passed over her shoulder blades. Floating down the length of her spine to the small of her back. Rolling my fingers slightly so that my nails barely tickled her soft skin as they slid over her asscheeks and downwards along the back of her thighs.

She moaned, almost purred, in pleasure. Arching her back, she rolled her ass up to me. Reaching the back of her knees, I turned my hands, letting my fingers slip upwards along the back of her thighs. Her legs spread a few inches. My fingertips slid higher, over her cheeks, dipping down into the small of her back, up along her spine, her neck, to her hair.

Turning my fingers again, I let my nails glide along her skin, following the previous trail to her thighs, leaving hoards of goose bumps in their wake. On the return trip up her thighs, her legs spread further, her ass lifting higher, inviting.

My fingers dropped between her legs to find her puffy lips, moist with anticipation. When my finger touched her swollen hard clit, her body stiffened and she released a deep throaty moan. I let my finger roll softly around her clit, as her hips began to gyrate in sync. Curling two fingers, I allowed them to slip between her lips, entering her to the first knuckles. She pushed back hard, straining at the ropes on her wrists, driving my fingers deep into her.

She began rocking, pushing back onto my fingers harder and faster. Using my other hand, I flicked my index finger across her clit as she rode my fingers faster. And faster. She began to shake, then her body went rigid, throwing her head back to scream in orgasm. I could feel her muscles wringing my fingers, pulling them into her.

I crawled between her legs, grabbing her hips to lift her onto her knees. Slipping tight to her, I slid the head of my cock across her pussy lips, up and down. Her juices quickly covered the head of my cock. Moving my hips, I slipped the head between her lips. She arched her back more, pushing her ass up to me. I held just escort avrupa yakası the tip in her, despite her grinding back against me. I grabbed onto her hips, holding her still.

Then I plunged into her, right to my balls. She pressed her face into a pillow as she screamed again in pleasure, her muscles squeezing hard on my cock. I started pounding into her, as she pushed back hard against me, her ass resoundfully slapping against my abdomen. Faster, and harder, we pounded against each other, until I felt her shaking again, then stiffen in another orgasm, her muscles rolling waves along the length of my cock.

Moving back, I slid out of her and off of the bed. I grabbed her ankles, pulling her down onto her stomach, then rolled her onto her back. Crawling back onto the bed, I straddled her hips. I slipped an arm under her back, lifting her enough to slide one of her large body pillows underneath her. Moving upwards, I laid my cock, glistening with her juices in her cleavage.

I pulled her breasts together tightly around my cock. The sensation was exquisite, such a warm soft tunnel as I pumped my cock faster and faster between her breasts, my thumbs flicking across her nipples as I did. I felt myself begin to get close, so I released her breasts and leaned forward, my hands holding onto her still bound wrists.

I looked down as I lowered my hips, my cock touching her lips. They opened and her soft tongue darted out to quickly lick the head of my cock. Lowering my hips further, she sucked me into her hot, wet mouth. I began sliding in and out as she sucked harder. Faster and faster until I was pistoning my cock into her mouth, my own orgasm ready. I shoved hard and deep into her mouth as I exploded. She continued sucking, pulling out every drop, and continued to try for more.

I rolled off of her, dropping to the bed alongside, gulping in air. After catching my breath, I reached over, undoing the scarf from her eyes.

“Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.” I released her wrists from the rope.

“Good morning, Mr. Peterson,” she replied. “What took you so long? I was starting to get worried.”

“Sorry, I was taking in the sights,” I said with a wink. She stood up from the bed. I reached out and gave her a playful smack on her ass.

“Now, I have got to get to the office, and you need to go grab a shower. Remember, that plumber is supposed to be here before nine.”

“Another plumber?” She just gave me a mischievous smile as she headed to the shower, wiggling her hips.

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The Pick Up

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I had been sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes sipping a cold one and checking out the action. Women were sitting in groups of twos and threes, some even solo enjoying their cocktails and unwinding after a hard week at the office or job or whatever they did to earn their keep. Laughter mingled with the cigarette smoke drifting lazily around the tables. All together a pleasant atmosphere where the trials of the outside world melted away. Because tonight was Saturday night and I felt strangely exhilarated.

My eyes scan the room looking for that special someone to spend the evening with when I saw you leaning against the bar while sitting on the stool. Calmly smoking a cigarette and taken leisurely sips from a frosty Margarita. You turned around and studied the crowd tasting your cold drink. I watched as you brushed away the advances of several men. But I’m intrigued. You were beguiling me from a distance. And as sure as the moth is drawn to the flame, I had to try my luck with you.

Before I set forth I looked you over. Hmmm! Perhaps late thirties, early forties. Sort of a dark blond hair. Nice solid body. Even sitting on that stool I could see you had the kind of ass that a man would love to get his hands onto. I also noticed and appreciated the solidness of your thighs and calves. Now I know many males like the big boobs, but for my money the best part of a woman’s body outside of her mind is the derriere. So stirred up and with nothing to lose but a bruise to my pride I ambled my lanky frame towards you.

“How ya doing?” I asked.

“Not bad. How about you?” you replied. You then raised your glass and took a long swig of the Margarita.

I almost stumbled over my words. Seeing your eyes for the first time took my breathe away. They are this beautiful blend of gold-green and brown overtones that are absolutely stunning. “I’m fine, escort vip thanks,” recovering from my surprise.

“Nice to know. ”you answered taking another deep draught from your Margarita. Draining the drink you set the empty glass on the bar.

“Care for another?”

“Sure why not. ”

I ordered another round of drinks from the bartender. When it arrived you suggested that we might be more comfortable finding a table instead of standing at the bar.

You led the way. The sway of your hips, an erotic beacon, guiding me through the crowd. “This looks fine. ” Then you sat at a secluded table in the dimly corner just off from the main flow of traffic.

We sat together with a view of the dance floor and engaged in small talk while we drank. It was shortly after our conversation had begun that you first stroked my crotch with the back of your hand. My immediate reaction was that it was just an accident. Then it happened again this time with a more insistent pressure. Turning your hand palm down and firmly rubbing my now hardening cock you asked how I was doing.

I was near speechless. Here I was in a secluded, though public, area with a foxy woman feeling the growing lump in my jeans. “Just fine. ” I stuttered. “How about you?”

You grinned slyly. “I have this spot right here that needs some attention.” You then guided my hand to the slit at the front of your dress, parted your thighs and slid my fingers to your waiting pussy.

I moved my finger under the dress and to my amazement you were not wearing a stitch. My heart began pounding harder as I stroked your silky pubes. I was a little nervous about being spotted, however my fermenting lust overcame any inhibitions I may have had and I proceeded to gently finger your moistened labia.

Your eyes took on a radiant appearance as you began subtlety shifting your escort rus hips to the rhythm of my finger fucking. You whispered, “Go a little faster and rub my clit more. ”

The combination of your coarse language and your mounting pleasure at the semi public display cause my hard cock to strain against the fly of my jeans. Unzipping my pants you released my cock and continued to rub my erection. The effect was incredible. If this kept up I would cum in a few minutes.

Just as I was trying to maintain my composure you began to close your eyes and take sharp breaths.

“Oh, I’m going to come!” you whispered hoarsely in my ear. “Ughhhh, Ughhhhh!” Then you quickly pushed my hand away from your very wet pussy.

You leaned back into the seat still with a firm grip on my engorged member. “I really needed that. ” Then you reached for your cigs and the remains of your Margarita leaving my neglected pole all alone.

I sat still for a few moments with my member exposed under the table. I tucked my penis back into my pants figuring that you were done for the evening.

“Let’s get another drink before we leave,” you said demurely with no hint in your voice to suggest you had just had an orgasm.

“Sure, why not!” Who the hell could figure where this was all going.

The small talk continued as we played with the ice in the drinks. between pauses in the conversation. We flirted and kissed each other the way lovers do.

“I think it’s time to go. Why don’t you come home with me, honey?”

“How can I say no to you? Sure, let’s go. ”

We left the bar and headed to our autos. “You can follow me in your car. I only live a few blocks away. ”You laughed and turned on your heel.

Within a short while we arrived at your place. I was out of my car in a flash and horny as hell.

No sooner had you turned the escort elit key, opened the door and stepped inside, we were in an impassioned embrace. Scrambling hands and nimble fingers soon had the clothes stripped off and on the floor in an untidy pile.

Your hands grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down to your waiting pussy. “Eat me now…I’m so fucking hot for your tongue. ”you ordered me.

No encouragement needed here. I breathed in the musky wetness of your cunt. Beginning with licking your labia I worked my way towards your erect clitoris and applied tongue lashing after lashing. The juices of your pussy covered my face and I continued to inhale that wonderful fragrance of a woman in full heat.

Both your hands pushed my face harder into your sex. “That’s it…yes that’s it…Ohhh…Ughh… Then came your second cum of the evening. It smashed against your psyche like waves on a storm strewn beach. And again you pushed me away.

Taking me by the hand you pull me down the hall and enter the bedroom. Scrambling up onto the bed you assume the doggy position.

Now I must say that this was a magnificent sight to behold. Your ass is perfection. Wide and solid. I’ve never seen one that is so appealing. The crack of your pussy exposed the puffy pink engorged lips framed in blonde pubic hair. I’m in heaven. This is truly a turn on. I can smell your sex and it is an aphrodisiac. I can’t wait any longer and thrust my hard dick into your waiting cunt.

You shove back with every plunge forward. Now I’m hammering your pussy for all it’s worth. I grab both your ankles and continue to fuck you harder.

“UUUGGggggghhhhh…”You begin your climax. “OHHHHhhhh… Oohhhhhhh!”

As the orgasm runs it’s course your pussy clamps down on my harden dick and now I’m cumming also. “OOHHhhhh…GGOooddddddd!”It feels like I’m shooting buckets.

We collapse on the bed. That post coital calm descends on us as we lay wasted side by side.

You roll over to me and kiss me. “Good night, Honey.”

I kiss you good night also. “Sleep tight dear.”

And now the husband and wife fall soundly asleep.

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The Stand-In Guy

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This story is purely FICTIONAL. All characters are over the age of 18. Some of the places named in this story are real, others are fictional. In my little fantasy world there are no STD’s or AIDS, but we live in the real world so please practice safe sex.

©All rights reserved.

This is my first online story so please send some feedback. I live in South Africa, so my spelling differs somewhat to American English. The story contains a ton of dialogue, so if you’re looking for something that jumps straight to the sex part, it might not be for you.

For PTA East’s hot orthopaedic surgeon and stand-in guy who inspired this story. I sincerely hope you never read this ’cause this might harder to explain than the time I fell in ICU and fractured my ribs.

Hugs I met Doctor James M. Neeson: orthopaedic and spinal surgeon, the stand-in guy. Wow, what can I say? Firstly, he’s ridiculously tall; that’s the first thing everyone notices. Secondly, he tends to be full of shit; the neuro says one thing and his attitude is like ‘Fuck you, I run the show now and you’re not going anywhere!’

My first face off with him came one Saturday morning a few months back; I had surgery that Thursday and he took over for a few days, whilst Dr. Smith went to Cape Town for some much needed rest. Dr. Smith tends works ’til stupid-o-clock most days; and it’s not unlikely to find him wondering around the wards at 2 in the morning, planning the next day’s surgeries. Ask me, I’ve been found out by him more than once, walking through the neurosurgery ward at all hours of the night. I’m a chronic insomniac and the beds are fucking terrible. And the pills SUCK!

I was I.C.U., desperate to get back to regular ward just so that I could be free of all those damn cuffs and tubes, and of course those bloody bedpans. Here I was hoping Dr. Neeson would be my white knight in shining armour and busted me out of there; I was sorely mistaken.

“Hi, hoe gaan dit?”{‘Hello, how are you?’}He asked. Living in Pretoria, almost everybody speaks Afrikaans. I can speak Afrikaans, it’s my second language, but I tend to speak English most of the time; and I refuse to speak Afrikaans to people unless I know them well. Like my mom, although most of what we talk about should never be repeated in front of anyone that lives outside of our home. EVER.

“Fine, thank you.”

“Any problems?” He asked. Even if I had any problem I wasn’t about tell him about them.

“No. Do you think I can go to the general ward today?”

“No. You’re only on day 1 post op.”

“Please?” I whined like a 4 year old, “Dr. Smith said I could go to the general ward today.” In these few moments I realized 2 things. Number 1: doctors lie; number 2: I wasn’t going to change his mind, not that it stopped me from trying.

Basically we repeat the same conversation every time I saw him. I only ever wanted to be move to a normal ward or go home. My attitude in life has always been ‘You go in there, you get the job done and you get the fuck out!’ Being in hospital was no different. I had spent so much time in hospital the last few years I could practically run the place.

However, the more I spoke to him the more I started noticing small things about eryaman escort him. Like how big his hands are(it got me wondering what else is big). The unusual colour of his eyes. The way you could see a tiny glimpse of his chest hair sticking out just above the buttons of his shirt. The slightest hint of grey starting to show around his temples. The fact that he never wore a suit, I loved the way his ass looked in his khakis and his faded blue jeans. My favourite part of his rounds was when he had his back to me; I swear I could spend hours just staring at that ass.

I had come to enjoy these little battles of will between us. He had become my favourite opponent and secretly my favourite fantasy when I masturbated…


About a month ago I got tearful phone call from my best friend, Jason. His long-time boyfriend, Chris had just broken up with him. Apparently he needed some space, although I reckon he was more than likely cheating. I had never actually liked Chris from the first day that I had met him, and the feeling was mutual but I love Jason, so I tolerated him.

My family had bought a few restaurants over the last couple of years and I had come to know most of the staff, from the doormen to waiter and the cooks. So, I decided to have one of the doormen drive me down from Pretoria to Randburg.

I had absolutely no intention of driving myself as I knew that there was no way I’d make it home without a DUI. Hell, I probably wouldn’t be able to find my car or my keys for that matter. The Plan: Dinner and drinks, lots and lots of drinks. Truthfully, that’s my answer to many problems of the heart.

Dinner turned out to be amazing Italian food with the Vino flowing freely. After dinner we moved to the bar and started on the cocktails.

“Would you like to tell me what you’re doing?” Startled, I spun around, drink in hand, on my bar stool to see Dr. Neeson standing right behind me.

“Um… Drinking. Jason’s boyfriend just broke up with him so as any good friend would do, so I bought him dinner, and I’m getting him and myself horribly drunk.”

“Uh, his boyfriend?” He asked, looking rather dumbfounded by my choice of words.

“Yup, as in the man he had carnal relations with.”

Just then Jason made is grand return from the bathroom. “Dani, would you like to tell who your friend over here is?”

“Doctor Neeson.” I braced myself for what I surely knew was going to happen next. I love Jason to death but sometimes he can’t shut up. Now would be one of those times.

“OH.MY.GOD! You’re the hot orthopaedic surgeon Dani likes!” Jason squealed like little child, “Are you single?”

At this point I wanted to murder Jason and then crawl into a hole and die.

“Yes, I’m single.” My mind was doing a little happy dance. I had always wondered if he was single; he never wore a ring so I assumed that he wasn’t married but that didn’t make him unattached. Men like him, especially doctors, draw women in like bees to honey. Sexy, skilled and well off. Completely and utterly fuckable.

“So, you think I’m hot?” He did this cute thing with his eye brows he usually does when he tries to draw an honest answer out of me. It gets me every time.

I was about to answer when ulus escort Jason decide to do it for me, “Oh, she thinks you’re more than hot. I think she has a stalker like fascination with you.”


“I didn’t know you use words like that, I’m impressed.” Dr. Neeson said, very entertained by the whole situation.


“Uh, Baby Doll, you do realize you just told Dr. Dreamboat over here to fuck off?”

“Yeah, he’ll live.” “Hey doc, if I throw him down these stairs will he need option A: a surgeon or option B: a body bag?”

“More than likely option B.”

“Fantastic!” “So, what are you doing here; a bit far from home aren’t we?”

“I was having dinner with some friends from my university days; it’s an old friend’s birthday. I hope you’re not planning to drive yourself home.” He asked, giving me a stern look, pointing to the Cosmopolitan in my hand.

“Nope, that is what Ty and Jake are here for.” I said motioning to the two doormen downstairs.

“You know Ty is going to be so pissed off having to drive you all the way back to Pretoria.”

“Ty’s a big boy, he’ll survive.” When I say Ty is a big boy I mean it in all senses of the word. He’s 6 foot 3, 200 pounds of pure muscle and his favourite hobby is kickboxing and he likes to play with knives. Long story short: you don’t fuck with Ty, ever.

“I didn’t know you live in Pretoria. Where about do you stay?”

“Stormy Skies Estate.” Stormy Skies Estate is one of those country club estates where you buy the plot of land and then build on it. My parents bought the place so that I could manage more of the business on that side of the world. Stormy Skies got its name from the frequent summer thunder storms the Highveld is so well known for. I think it was one of the main attractions when we bought the house. I have always loved watching lighting strike; the absolute power of it amazes me every time.

“So do I, it’s a really nice place and it’s practically right across the road from the hospital.”

After looking at Dr. Neeson I suddenly had a light bulb moment… “You know you really should close your bedroom curtains at night, I get to see the little dance you do every morning when you pick out your clothes. Not that I’m complaining, it makes my day every time.”

“What the fuck! How would you know what I do in the morning?” He asked, seemingly startled.

“I live in 13!” I replied, giggling. I’m a happy drunk, happy and chatty.

I do most of my work from home, so I don’t have a fixed schedule although I tend to wake at the same time most morning. Usually, just in time to see my sexy neighbour come out of the bathroom after his morning bath or shower, not certain which one, naked and pick out his clothes for the day. He does this little sway, shaking his sexy ass as he tries to pick out his shirt and pants. Now I could finally put a name to my incredibly hot neighbour. I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out sooner.

“Oh, man, you have got to be shitting me!” He said in a surprised tone of voice. My statement struck him like a ton of bricks. Apparently I wasn’t the only person who watched their neighbours happenings. Laughingly, he asked “So, eryaman escort do you always swim naked at night?”

“Yes,” I laughed, “I don’t see the point of wearing a swimsuit if your body ends up getting wet anyway!” One of the best things about living alone is being able to enjoy life’s little pleasures without anybody telling you how you should behave or dress. I have always loved water, especially swimming. My parents’ house has a massive pool and I swam almost daily growing up so when my house was being built the first thing I insisted one was a pool.

“Okay peoples, it’s been emotional but it’s time for me to fuck off like the robber’s dog. I’m gonna have Jake drive me home. I love you, Baby Doll. Thanks for tonight; you always know how to make me feel better. It’s been fun meeting you doc; you take care of my girl. Remember, I know where you work! Well, sort of.”

“I should probably get home as well. Ty needs to go home at some point tonight.”

“Let me take you home.” James said, a definite promise in his voice.

“I’d like that.”

Getting out in to the night air I shivered.

The drive home was probably the longest it had ever been for me. Sitting in the passenger seat of his Jag, I felt like I might spontaneously combust.

I kissed his neck, laving the spot behind his ear, whispering to him exactly what I wanted to do with his cock whilst stroking the bulge in those jeans I had come to love. His fingers tracing the outline my pussy lips through my tiny, soft, black lace panties.

Finally, getting through the estate’s security gates and out of the car; he pulled me out of the car, pressing me against the car door, kissing me until we were both breathless

We barely made it through the door fast enough for me to disarm the security system. I didn’t even get a chance to put the lights on before he started kissing me again. Somehow we eventually ended in the kitchen after bumping in to my couches and knocking the coffee table over, stripping his shirt and shoes off as we went.

Lifting me up unto the cool granite of the kitchen counter top, he began pushing my dress up so that he could pull my panties off.

Pushing his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his cock jutting out, I realised I had been right about his size. He was long and thick; and as hard as steel.

Gripping my hips, he shoved his cock deep into my pussy, causing me to moan as my head fell back. I felt so full. So fucking good.

“God, you are so tight, baby.” He groaned; squeezing my breasts in his incredible hands, pinching my nipples.

Dragging me from the counter onto the floor, he rolled us over so that he was on top of my body. “You are so fucking hot.” He moaned.

“Oh, James, fuck me. Fuck me hard,” I begged. My breath coming in short gasps as I moved closer and close to orgasm.

“Yes. Yes. Oh God, James, I’m so close. So close…” Slipping his hand between our bodies, he found my clit and rubbed it as he thrust in and out of my pussy. Screaming his name, I came, HARD. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever had; it felt like a tsunami had rolled over me. Feeling my pussy contracted around his cock, he came in me. His hot cum bathing the inside of my pussy.

Lying on the kitchen floor, his body still pressing down on me; feeling his cum slowly leak from my pussy, I said “I think I need a doctor; I’m not sure I can move my legs.”

“Well, I could always check that out for you…”


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The Snowman and the Dreamer

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Chapter 1:

Margie’s eyes scanned quickly from left to right and from top to bottom as she devoured the pages. Her head was propped up on two pillows. The bedside lamp illuminated her hands; the left holding the paperback novel and the right making rhythmic motions in the nether folds of her nightgown. She heard him rudely calling but she was so engrossed in her book that his demands weren’t penetrating her consciousness.

“…The urgent grip of his embrace was almost painful, but she wished she could be even closer to him. Her lips felt bruised from their kisses. Still, sought for his mouth with her lips, desiring more kisses, as his huge hands cupped the cheeks of her buttocks through her dress and petticoats. Her pelvis crushed against his. His pulsing pole of flesh, not content to be sandwiched between them but, rather, wanting solely to be buried to its hilt inside her. She craved more of his kisses. She could not have enough. She could feel the muscles of his broad back ripple beneath her touch. She sensed his desperation. Suddenly he gripped her dress at the neck behind her head and with a mighty surge of strength tore loose the buttons that held it together. She heard the buttons clatter to the floor. She felt him tearing at the belt about her waist. He stripped the dress down over her arms and lifted her free of the train and petticoats. She found herself before him clothed only in a corset and underpants.

It was as if the clothes they wore had become their mutual enemies. As he warred with the laces on her corset she battled the tie on his cummerbund. Next, she attacked the buttons on his trousers. Escaping from her corset, she watched him tear free of his tunic. His attention immediately focused on her ample bosom, her breasts exposed to him. Large melons, they were, ripe for the picking with dark succulent nipples. His lips fastened to one nipple, then the other as her hands, entangled in his long blond hair, guided his efforts from side to side.

Suddenly, as if his spinal cord had been severed by an enemy’s arrow, the prince dropped to his knees before her and yanked her underpants to the floor. His hungry lips sought her womanhood. She started to swoon, but he caught and hoisted her with arms like the branches of a huge oak tree. She found herself with legs over his shoulders, her sex level with his mouth, while he lapped at her womanly nectar. He stood to his feet. She took handfuls of his luxurious hair to hold herself aright. She thought he was walking, taking her somewhere but the sensations at her center were so intense that she couldn’t be sure. Her surroundings were a fog. As she descended from the very apex of the mountain of pleasure, she felt her lover, firmly but gently, lower her body onto the soft bearskin rug before the huge crackling fireplace.

Gracefully she rolled to her knees before him and, with hunger in her brown eyes, lowered his trousers to uncover a flawless male member of generous proportion. She licked her lips greedily as she took it in both of her hands and guided it to her waiting mouth. She lavished the impressive tool with oral delights until the handsome prince indicated that she should recline on the rug. She released his incredible manhood with a “plop” from her mouth and it smacked his defined pectorals as a panther might bat a deer.

She lay on her back, totally open to him and inviting. He positioned himself accordingly as the firelight danced on their bodies. He felt her small hand latch onto his quivering lance and pull it toward her salivating cavern. He began to lower himself into the heavenly delights…”

“Margie! Margie! Hey, where are you? Are you deaf? I need a beer in here. Bring me a goddam beer and be quick about it!”

Margie closed her book over the ribbon to mark her place and put the romance novel down on her bedside table. “Be right there. Just a minute!” She looked at the cover of the book. Typical of this sort of novel, it showed a blonde Adonis in a passionate embrace with a beautiful dark heroine. “I wish! Oh, how I wish,” she whispered to herself as she walked toward the kitchen to get Big Dave his beer.

Chapter 2

The cold was making his nose run. He wiped his upper lip with the back of his gloved hand and returned to shoveling the fresh snow from the concrete walk in front of his house. He hoped within himself that there wouldn’t be more snowfall during the day. Shoveling once a day was more than enough! He finished with the walk, right up to the property line on both sides of the house and started making passes in front of the garage door to clear the driveway that led to the street. He noticed that the tips of his index and middle fingers of his right hand were getting very cold. “I’ll have to ask Doris if there is enough room in the budget for some new gloves next time we go to Walmart,” he thought.

Quickly finishing his early morning chore, he put the snow shovel away, and stomped the snow from his boots before entering the warmth of the emek escort house. His glasses instantly fogged over as his wife, Doris, sharply barked, “hurry up and shut that door! I can only imagine what the heat bill is going to be this month!” He removed his scarf, coat, and hat before taking a step toward a chair in which to sit while he removed his boots. “And don’t track that cold wet snow all over the house” she said looking over the top of her reading glasses. “I hate it when I step in your cold puddles in my bare feet.”

“Sorry,” Mitch mumbled as he untied his laces. He put his boots on an old newspaper spread on the floor by the door that had been placed there for just this purpose. He picked up a few little bits of snow that had fallen from the tread of his boots and tossed them in the trash. Returning to the living room he said, “we need to add a pair of gloves to the shopping list. It seems I’ve worn out the pair I have.”

Doris looked up from her magazine, obviously going back through her memory. “Didn’t we just buy those gloves last spring? You need to be more careful with things. We can’t afford to be replacing stuff all the time.”

“Yes, we got them at Walmart because we knew I’d need them for pruning the bushes.”

“Nothing lasts anymore. Everything they sell comes from China and falls apart as soon as you pay for it!” She scowled before continuing, “I remember my dad telling me about how, when they were kids during the Great Depression, they would wear holes in their socks. Then, they’d turn the socks over and wear them that way until they wore holes in the tops. Maybe you can do that with your gloves.”

Mitch knew there was no sense in arguing. Doris was always right. “That might work. I’ll try it,” he said. He went in the kitchen and put his half-full coffee cup in the microwave. He looked out the window as his coffee heated. The lady from next door was now shoveling her walk. Her brown hair came to her shoulders beneath a white stocking cap. She was wearing large sunglasses and a puffy maroon coat. He envied her blue insulated gloves. She stopped moving snow to rest. Mitch could see her rapid breaths in the cold Colorado air. Suddenly, he felt guilty. There was no reason that he couldn’t have shoveled her area while he was doing his own. Mitch didn’t really know her. They had been neighbors for a year or two and only spoken brief hellos when watering or mowing the lawns. Doris and Mitch mostly kept to themselves. Doris said they couldn’t afford to “do a lot of socializing.” As for the neighbors, Mitch couldn’t recall their names. In fact, now that he thought about it, he could only remember seeing the husband once and that was when they were moving in. He was on crutches and it seems like he was a very large man. He watched his neighbor resume her shoveling. She wasn’t particularly large. Very average, Mitch thought. She was probably about the same age as he and Doris, early to mid-50’s. Just then the microwave “dinged” loudly. He slurped the hot liquid as he returned to the window. The neighbor had finished her sidewalk and was cleaning the driveway. She had opened her garage door and started her car so it could warm as she completed the snow removal. Mitch decided she was an attractive woman. No raving beauty, obviously. He couldn’t see many physical details, of course, because of how she was dressed against the chilly morning but he could tell that she was perhaps a bit overweight. Not dramatically so but she would be soft and curvy. “Very different from Doris,” he thought to himself. Doris was a tiny, bony woman. She was skinny with a prominent nose that sometimes resembled a bird’s beak. She had a rapid, sharp way of speaking and moving about. Mitch would never have audibilized the fact, but she made him think of a skinny old hen in the barnyard. The neighbor lady was much different. She moved in a very normal fashion. She disappeared from Mitch’s sight as she put the shovel in its place and got into her car. She backed out of the garage and happened to look in Mitch’s direction. She flashed white teeth as she smiled and waved her gloved hand. Mitch stepped back from the window quickly with a trace of guilt as if she could know that he had been evaluating her physical form.

He spent the remainder of the day, as he did most days, trying not to anger Doris. His mind kept going back, however, to his neighbor and how he should have shoveled for her. He should have just waved back from the window. Why did he recoil when she waved?

Snow falls frequently in the winter months in the Colorado mountains west of Denver. That night it snowed again. When Mitch noticed that he needed to shovel again the next morning he got an early start. With the right glove on his left hand and the left glove on his right hand, he attacked his chore with a gusto that had long been lacking. He soon had his own portion shoveled and was almost finished with the neighbor’s driveway when their garage door opened. The lady, dressed keçiören escort much as she had been the day before, stepped out into the cold with shovel in hand. Her mouth fell open in shock for a few seconds as she saw that her task was already completed.

“You sweet man! Thank you, neighbor, but you didn’t have to shovel my walk.”

Mitch was very pleased with her reaction. “You’re welcome. It really wasn’t any trouble. I had to do mine any…” his mumbled response trailed off as she stepped up to him and interrupted.

“Well, thank you, nonetheless! And you couldn’t have chosen a better day to help me because I was going to be late for work if I had to shovel.” Mitch wasn’t sure how to respond. She continued on, “I’m Margie, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever introduced ourselves,” she said brightly as she extended a hand in greeting.

“I’m… I’m,” Mitch stuttered as he struggled to extricate his right hand from the glove designed for his left hand. “I’m Mitch.” She grabbed and shook his hand as he awkwardly continued, “I live right over there.”

She giggled pleasantly. “Mitch, it is very nice to finally meet you and I want to thank you again. Maybe I can return the favor sometime.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to return anyth…”

“I know I don’t HAVE to but I’d LIKE to,” she interrupted with a big toothy smile. “Now, Neighbor Mitch, please forgive me as I scoot off to work so I won’t be late.”

“Okay. Okay. Uh… you have a good day. Okay?”

“You too! Bye!”

Mitch was still smiling as he stepped into the house with a picture of Margie’s smile in his mind.

“Hurry up and close that damned door!” Doris said adamantly. “We have to watch the heat bill, you know”. She cocked her head and glared. “What the hell are you grinning about?”

The weather pattern over the Rocky Mountains changed about that time and it didn’t snow again for almost two weeks. During the lull in snowfall Mitch couldn’t shovel the neighbor’s walk but he could watch her leave for work each morning. He knew that she would drive away at 7:45 so he made sure to be positioned at the window at that time. And the interesting thing was, she knew he’d be at the window because she had noticed him a few times. Before long it became a ritual that she would smile and wave to him on her way to work.

Chapter 3

Doris and Mitch did not sleep together. They had shared a bed for a short time following their marriage, but Doris said Mitch snored and disrupted her rest. She banned him to the sofa. This had gone on for years. Doris and Mitch had a horrible sex life. Actually, that statement is only half true. Their sex life was perfectly satisfactory as far as Doris was concerned. The typical routine was for them to watch television in the evening. They would watch the 10 o’clock news and she would go to bed. He might watch another half an hour of tv before turning out the lights. On occasion, maybe once or twice a month, she would call out from her room, “Mitch, I have a job for you.” He knew what this meant. He would go into her room and find her nude on the bed with her legs spread. Her dark nipples would be protruding sharply from her almost nonexistent breasts and her glistening wet pussy would be shining from its sparse covering of fine hair while she operated a small vibrating dildo on herself. “Give me a lick,” she would instruct him. Mitch would position himself between her thighs and lick her repeatedly from back to front; starting softly and increasing in intensity as she’d trained him. At the precise moment her orgasm peaked she would yell, “now”! That was the signal for Mitch to get out of her way. She would rub her clit with one hand and plunge the toy inside herself to heighten her own pleasure. If Doris was in the mood she would mutter “again,” and they would repeat the process. If, for some reason, she was particularly horny they would repeat the process a third time. By the time Doris was sated Mitch was very turned on. She would say, “go take care of yourself and don’t make too much noise.” He would return to his sofa, remove his shorts, and stroke himself until he climaxed. Mitch knew from what he’d read and from what he’d seen on television and in the movies that his sex life was sadly deficient. Lately, however, it had improved somewhat because he would imagine that he was making love to Margie as he brought himself to orgasm.

When the snows returned Margie and Mitch continued to develop a neighborly friendship. He would finish shoveling about the same time she left for work. This gave them an opportunity to chat for a few minutes. Mitch smiled as he reflected on the fact that he used to dread snowy days. Now he looked forward to them.

One Saturday, after a particularly snowy week, Margie knocked at the door with a plate of cookies. Mitch had never mentioned to Doris that he was removing the snow from the neighbor’s walk because he was sure that she would not approve. Doris gölbaşı escort answered the door, as she nearly always did, and thank goodness was at least cordial. She thanked Margie for the cookies. As soon as the door clicked shut her demeanor changed. “Why are you wearing out our snow shovel on the neighbor’s walks?”

Mitch was not normally a quick thinker, but he responded well on this occasion. “I was just being neighborly. Besides, they sometimes water and mow part of our lawn,” he lied. “I didn’t think it would hurt anything.”

Doris let it drop as she turned her focus to removing the Saran wrap from the cookies and sampling one. “Mmmm. Not bad. Good cookies.”

Mitch was very relieved and felt as if a major altercation had been avoided.

Margie walked back to her own house, opened the door, and was greeted with the wonderful smell of warm cookies and with the blaring sound of a football game. She went into the kitchen and began washing the bowl and spoons which she had used to make the cookies. A few minutes later there was a loud “bing” from her timer signaling that the last batch of cookies was ready to remove from the oven. She put them on the rack to cool. A coarse yell came from the living room, “bring me a beer, wouldjya?” She quickly put some cookies on a saucer and grabbed a can of beer from the frig. She hustled into the living room and handed the beer to a huge man wearing gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sturdy metal crutches leaned against the wall behind his recliner.

“Here you go, Dave. Would you like a few cookies?”

He took the beer first and popped it open. He took a long deep drink before taking the saucer of cookies. “Chocolate chip? I hope you didn’t put too many goddam chips in ’em this time. You’d choke a man on chocolate chips.” He took one and stuffed it all in his mouth. Margie watched his face in hopes of a comment or at least a look that expressed approval. There was none. Just then the crowd roared from the television’s sound bar and speakers. She could feel the bass vibrating the soles of her bare feet. Dave’s eyes widened as he watched intently. “Run you lazy sonuvabitch, run!” he yelled, spewing cookie crumbs over his massive belly. Margie glanced up at the huge 65 inch television screen. The picture was so crisp and the colors so vibrant that she was sure it was better than the actual view a fan would have had from the sideline. She returned the kitchen and her dirty dishes.

Big Dave was passionate about sports. He was a devoted football fan but he really loved baseball. He had played both football and baseball in high school and even made the cut for a couple years at a small college where he walked on to play football. He had the size but never had the strength or quickness to play more than “garbage time” at the college level. His perception of those facts was different. He believed that he was discriminated against. He thought he didn’t get to play more because he had spoken his mind about some of the team rules. He always contended that he had not been treated fairly. After dropping out of college he worked several jobs before landing a gig as a mailman. That job was working out for him until he walked into a post office restroom one day that had water on the floor from a leaking sink. He slipped and twisted his knee. He had to have a surgery to repair the knee and, after several attempts, found a physician that said Big Dave would never be able to work again. It took a great deal of wrangling and a good attorney, but he was finally placed on disability. For seventeen years Dave had sat in a recliner, drank beer, rooted for his teams, and piddled away his health. At 52 years of age he weighed 340 pounds and couldn’t come close to tying his own shoes. He could ambulate from his chair to the bathroom and from his chair to the bed. His life was playing out in those three rooms.

Dave and Margie were married a few years after Dave left college. He was never a considerate lover. He was big, strong, and he was passionate about getting what he wanted. Even though Margie knew that sex could have been better in those days she never complained. Sometimes she even had an orgasm with Dave. If she didn’t have one with him she knew how to take care of it herself. Sad to say, things didn’t get better over time, they got worse. As Big Dave became bigger, he lost his ability and desire to perform in the bedroom. They hadn’t made love in almost 15 years. Dave would never admit it but he hadn’t even had an erection in 12 years. Margie knew in the rational part of her thinking that it was Dave’s fault but there was a part of her that somehow blamed herself. Maybe if she was sexier. Maybe if she was thinner. Maybe if she had said and done the right things it might be different for her and Dave. Maybe if she were more like the women in the novels that she read.

They could squeak by on Dave’s disability money, but she really needed to get out of the house. She needed time away from the television. She needed time away from Dave. She found a job at a small local motel four years ago. She ran the front desk from 8 in the morning until 5 in the afternoon. Her boss let her run home to feed Dave his lunch. She only made minimum wage but having a place to go kept her sane.

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The Simple Blue Robe Ch. 03

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“There was the sound of the switch rushing through the air and then a wail assailed my ears. Completely disorientated by the pain and humiliation, I realized that the howls I heard were my own. My Aunt Zincuda, dressed only in her chemise leaned over the carpenter’s table. Her fingers reached out for the wood and kindling piled before me. A combination of rage and ecstasy grossly distorted her face. ‘Qendressa,’ she hissed in my face. ‘You little bitch! This will teach you to seduce my son!’

“Tears blurred my vision as I watched Zincuda grab the piece of rough-hewn sandalwood, which lay on the table beside me. I writhed and wriggled in protest as she began to secure it to my back with the series of long green willow twigs. I thrashed and swayed but I could do little, as my hands were tightly bound to the corners of the workbench with coarse hemp rope. When I tried to kick at my aunt, my actions met with more sound correction from the birch switch. Soon my ass was covered in thick painful weals and I could feel blood running down my legs.”

The words, which came from the laptop speakers, captivated Eric. A little detective work through the printed transcripts of his father’s electronic diaries and a great deal of luck had lead Eric to the CD which was now playing. He listened intently as Essa recounted, to his father, the scene that had entrapped her hundreds of years ago. Her story, created in his mind, both erotic images and empathy for the poor trapped girl. Her words painted in fear and panic were addicting. He not only listened, as an eager learner hoping to gain knowledge about how Essa had been ensnared and thereby perhaps gain some knowledge of how to set her free, but also as an enthralled voyeur. Excitement grew within him.

In a trembling voice, Essa continued her story. “Once Zincuda had secured the wood to my back she moved away from me and approached the man with the switch. He was thin, wiry, and dressed only in a dirty shirt. His hands were calloused and rough. When Zincuda approached him, a smile spread across his bearded and pock marked face. His black eyes gleamed with lust. They embraced in frenzy and tore at each other’s clothes. Soon they were naked.

“Their clothes were tossed at my feet along with the switch. I could see the droplets of my blood that still clung to the edges of the cruel birch and stained their garments. The searing pain in my buttocks soon began to ebb as I became engrossed in the erotic scene that was playing out before my eyes.

“My aunt drew his face down so he could kiss her pendulous breasts and suck on her large, brown nipples. ‘Oh Igor, that’s it. Suck my tits!’ she commanded as she reached out and grabbed his enormous cock. ‘I have to get you ready!’ He just continued to make sucking noises and moaned.

“I could see her excitement growing. Her face as flushed and her breath came in short pants. She worked her hand furiously and his dick seemed to double in size before my eyes. Then her eyes met mine. Lust, dominance, and hatred filled her fiery gaze. What had I done to deserve such treatment? Bewildered, I cried out.

“Auntie, please…

“A sharp backhand slap across my face silenced my plea. Zincuda continued with her attention to Igor until she felt he was ready. Then she shrieked, ‘Now Igor, now! Work your magic! Bind her away. Then we will all be rich…’

“Zincuda spun Igor around to face my exposed ass. With a series of deft leg sweeps, she further spread my legs. Then there was the painful shock, as the bulbous head of his cock began to work in and out of my pussy. Pain began to turn to pleasure. My breathing began to change and I closed my eyes. “Now Igor! Now!’ screamed my aunt.

” Igor began to chant as he plunged in and out of my pussy. ‘Three by three and three again…willow and wood cling and bind…seed of man unite and join…’ Then he withdrew from me only to thrust again. I twisted and avoided his first thrust, but he thrust again. Oh David it was awful…”

Essa’s voice dissolved into a series of sobs. Eric could hear his father trying to comfort Essa and imploring her to continue. She did however, her muffled voice was hard to understand. Eric had to replay that section of the disk several times. Nevertheless, the only words he could decipher were…awful…searing pain…fainted… and blackness. Frustrated ankara escort bayan Eric made a few cryptic notes on the yellow pad he now kept on the desk beside the laptop and turned in the chair to gaze at the doll on the chest of drawers.

It was early in the afternoon, and the sandalwood doll now lay beside him on the daybed. He was beginning to learn the rules for handing the doll and had been careful not to touch the wood with his bare hands as he excitedly carried it to the bed. Naked, his anticipation of what was to come was already beginning to show. Eric cautiously removed the small silk robe and examined the back of the doll. There were pale lines on the sides of the ribcage and a mark that paralleled the spine and ended just above the buttocks. Could these marks be the remnants of the willow bindings and the wood in Essa’s story? Intrigued, Eric peered closer. Upon a more exacting investigation, he could also see a series of faint, lateral marks, which extended across the curve of the doll’s bottom. The description of Essa’s whipping filled his mind. He could not resist the urge to touch them. Suddenly, everything went blurry and black.

Essa lay on the bed on her stomach with her head propped up on her left elbow with her knees adjacent to the pillows and Eric’s head. Her feet moved back and forth in the air to the beat of the movements of her hand. She was stroking Eric’s cock. “So you like touching my ass, do you?” Essa teased with a laugh. He did not respond immediately, but a sharp tug freed up his tongue.

“Ouch! Hey, go easy, there! That’s the only one I got,” he cried. Another sharp tug encouraged a more detailed reply. “Yes, yes I do like rubbing your ass. It’s…it’s a very beautiful ass and I have trouble keeping my hands off of it.” Eric continued between pants of pain and pleasure. Essa’s response was a laugh followed by a quick turn of her body and a playful leap. She now straddled him. Essa’s arms embraced his hips, her breasts pushed hard against his stomach, and she began to smother him in kisses. Eric gasped.

Exposed to his view now was Essa’s beautiful womanhood. The firm, creamy, globes of her buttocks and whisks of chocolate brown hair framed her pussy. A little succulent nectar had already started to escape from the outer lips. The sight inflamed Eric. His hands grabbed her hips. He arched his neck. His lips and tongue lapped at her slit.

Essa squirmed and pushed back against his mouth. She moaned as she feverously sucked at his cock. She could feel the tension building in both of them. Suddenly, she felt a sharp slap against her ass and then another. She writhed against the pain and tried to escape. However, Eric hands firmly held her hips and his tongue continued to tantalize. Realizing that Eric meant no harm and only desired to please her, Essa pushed back hard against his face. Eric’s tongue now seemed to fill her completely. Essa shuddered and convulsed. She let go if his cock. Her open her mouth hovered over Eric’s throbbing cock and his cum splashed against the back of her mouth.

Essa greedily swallowed all of Eric’s essence. The salty sweet tastes her sly reward. She relished the moment then languidly stretched out over Eric’s leg allowing her breasts to touch and tease his now shrinking cock. A celebratory smile spread over Essa’s face. They had cheated the carpenter’s curse one more time.

The two lovers lay inter-twined. Each softly caressed the other. Essa enjoyed the soothing touch of Eric’s hands. She repositioned her body, curled up into Eric’s embrace, and nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck. They were still and silent for a moment enjoying the glow of post coitial bliss.

“That was nice,” Essa whispered. “I feel safe and warm in your arms. I wish I could be with you always,”

“You are safe with me,” he replied. “We see each…”

“Only when you have a sexual need and decide to feel up the doll!” she fumed and spun away from his arms. A look of shock and dismay spread over Eric’s face. “You’re just like all the rest!” she yelled as she bent over him. Fury and frustration contorted her countenance. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m still trapped, don’t you understand! I don’t want to live only when you touch my ass!” She collapsed, weeping, against his chest.

“But Essa, I am trying…”

“Everyone demetevler escort has been trying!” she sobbed. “They have been trying to rape, molest, and defile me. No one wants to help me! No one loves me, just for me.” She slipped to the floor at the side of the bed, buried her head in the pillows, and began to cry uncontrollably. Eric knew there was nothing he could do or say at this moment. He just softly stroked her hair and her back and waited.

It took a while, but Essa finally calmed down. The two of them curled up together like spoons on the daybed. They watched the rest of the day pass outside the window talking little and hugging a lot. At dusk, Eric prepared a plate of fruit, cheese, and crackers. He also opened one of the last bottles of his father’s Cabarnet-Sharaz. In candlelight, they ate and talked.

During the afternoon and the evening, each time Eric tried to steer the conversation to the scene in the carpenter’s shop, Essa tensed and went silent. Nevertheless, he did learn that her father imported only the finest fabrics, oils, perfumes, and woods from Persia and India. As a result, her family had grown very rich and powerful while the family of her aunt languished in countryside. The pieces of silver that Essa brought with each summer visit never lasted long. What should have lasted a peasant family more than an entire year, Zincuda squandered on wine and presents for herself and her friends in just a few short months. Her hatred for her brother and his daughter grew and festered like a boil. When she learned that Qendressa was to be married to the son of another rich merchant prince in the fall, the boil became inflamed. Upon catching Qendressa and Stephan together in the shed, her hatred burst forth.

Zincuda, together with her lover, the carpenter, hatched a plan using faerie magic to remove Essa from the scene. Then her daughter, Alyana, could marry son of the merchant prince, and she would become rich. Unfortunately, Zincuda overlooked human nature.

Essa’s father, overcome with the grief of loosing his only daughter, severed all ties with his sister. She received nothing for her evil actions but Qendressa remained trapped in a piece of sandalwood…forever.

The last red flares of the sunset faded into blackness and the candles began to burn out one by one. The two lovers lay cuddled like spoons on the bed as darkness enveloped them. “Eric I want to see the sunrise in your arms.” whispered Essa. She arched her back and pushed back against him. She smiled to herself when she could feel his hardness begin to creep into the hollow between her ass and her legs. Eric’s fingers began to trace delicate circular patterns on her cheek and then down her throat to her breast.

Essa moaned softly and said. “Star light, star bright, first star I see to night, I wish…” her voice trailed off.

“What do you wish for my love?”

There was a long pause. Essa knew what she wanted to say, but she could not form the words. Finally, a single word slipped from her lips. “Freedom,” she whispered. The effect of that solitary word was dramatic. It seared through Eric’s brain stimulating a series of thoughts, images, glimpses of partial plans. He became still and silent. She sensed his distraction and feared that he was about to leave her. “Hold me. Hug me. Please don’t go,” she pleaded softly as she reached out and touched his thigh.

Eric vaguely heard her words, but failed to comprehend their meaning. Her touch however, brought him out of his dream-like haze. He responded by kissing her on the neck, pulling her even closer to him, and he began to play with the nipple of her right breast. Essa responded with a smile and a sigh.

She liked having her nipples rubbed. Manipulating them seemed to directly stimulate her clit. It grew hard along with her nipples. Essa savored the warm sensations that spread throughout her breasts and pussy. She found herself rocking gently against Eric in response to his hot breath and kisses on her neck. Languidly she turned to lie on her back.

Eric responded by continuing to cup her breasts and bending forward so that he could suck her nipples. “Oh sweetie, that’s what I like…it feels so good,” mewed Essa. “How does this feel?” she teased as she began to stroke his cock. The answer was quickly apparent. esat escort Eric whimpered and hardened in response to her quickening strokes. She gasped when his fingers found her wetness and slipped inside her.

Eric worked his fingers in and out of her now sopping tunnel. He enjoyed the feel of her rhythmic contractions around his fingers and hardness of her nipple against his tongue. He curled his fingers and rubbed the thickness along the front of her vagina. Essa let out a series of short, high pitched grunts, and covered his hand with her essence. “Oh I’m going to make you pay for that,” Essa panted. Eric just leaned back and smiled. His fingers were now at his lips.

When his fingers left his mouth he replied, “I love your taste.” Then he added with a wicked smile, ” Just how are you going to make me pay?”

“Watch me,” was all she said as Essa adjusted her position on the bed, spread her legs, and began to massage her body with her hands. Eric watched mesmerized as the fingers of Essa’s right hand manipulated her pussy while the fingers of her left hand played with her nipples. He was surprised at how hard she seemed to rub, squeeze, and tug. He involuntary reached for his cock and began to stroke it. The movements of her right hand quickened. Soon her fingers were pistoning in and out of her pussy. Her eyes closed. A red blush spread up her throat and over her face. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She rolled her head back, her body convulsed as her open mouth emitted a silent scream.

Eric could not believe the feelings that watching Essa masturbate created within him. His heart raced. Electric sensations tantalized his mind and body. He quivered and raged with passion. His cock was as hard as steel. Release was near.

Then came the sultry look from Essa’s grey-green eyes. They encouraged action from Eric and invited him to move closer. He quickly crawled towards Essa and straddled her chest. She did not say a thing, yet her mouth opened in wanton invitation. His cock slipped between her breasts and Essa mounded them around his cock.

For Eric, the sensations he was feeling were new and uncharted territory. The feelings from his cock radiated through his entire consciousness. He rocked back and forth and the tension grew within him until he felt he would explode. Tiny, quick gasps from Essa triggered the explosion. Long ropes of cum cascaded from his cock to land on Essa’s neck, chin, and cheeks.

Eric leaned back and watched his cock wilt between Essa’s breasts. She silently smiled as Eric reached forward and wiped a gob of cum from her chin. He presented it to her lips and enjoyed the sensual feeling of her tongue as she deftly licked it off. The rest of the cum was cleaned-up in a similar fashion. When the last drop was sucked from his fingers, he bent forward and delicately kissed her. “Thank you my sweet,” she whispered. “That is the best present you could give both of us.”

They now stood before the den window and watched the waning crescent moon drop behind the mountains on the purple horizon. Sunrise would occur in a few moments. Eric hugged Essa. He reveled in the sensations of her buttocks pressing against his upper thighs and her back against his chest. Her hands gently covered his and guided them as they caressed her belly and breasts. However, the touches did not arouse passion only warmth and contentment.

Their sexual desires had been satisfied. Eric had surprised himself by cumming three more times after his violent explosion between Essa’s breasts. Essa in turn had gratefully received and delighted in each of his gifts. They enjoyed a long, luxurious, shower, which only ended when the hot water was exhausted. An energetic mutual toweling followed by shared oil and cream massages ended their romantic interlude. Now they stood naked and satiated at the den window waiting for the sunrise. Essa was full of cum, and perhaps for the first time, love.

“Mmmm…” she sighed, “I feel good…Eric, you make me feel so wonderful and safe. I usually fear the nigh, especially moonless one but…

“I want you to feel safe and sound,” Eric whispered softly in her ear.

“Oh look,” cried Essa. “There is the last night star.” A small pinpoint of light hung in the sky just over the peak of the far off mountain. As the star’s faint twinkling light disappeared in the brightening sky, Eric heard Essa softly say, “…Starlight, star bright, last star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might…” With those words filling his head, Eric promised himself that he would not call on Essa again until he could set her free.

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The Shepherd of Ashburn Court Pt. 04

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Author’s Notes:

In Part 4 Ben gets a little help from his friends… and more than a little loving.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.


Chapter 15

Ben sat in his living room with tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Hannah sat on the ottoman in front of him. When she’d arrived first thing in the morning he’d been a little surprised. He’d let her in and taken her coat. As he turned back her open palm caught him on the cheek. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap but it rang his head as he’d been completely unprepared. Once he regained stability she stepped forward and hugged him fiercely, calling him her hero. His whole body locked up until she stepped back.

“Ben, which of those two things hurt the most?” Hannah said with compassion in her eyes.

The question was so odd he froze and actually thought about it. The slap had been a surprise but the hug and praise had a far more uncomfortable impact on his body.

He stared at Hannah. “The hug.”

“You see how backwards that is, right?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded and she led him into the living room to sit on the couch. She pulled up the ottoman directly in front of him. He had tears in his eyes as she sat before her friend.

“Ben, I spoke with a large and concerned group of your friends last night. We can all see you’re hurting. The source of the pain isn’t quite clear but I think I can make a few educated guesses. Much of your past is still unknown to us but from what we’ve pieced together, we see that you don’t believe you are worthy of being loved. You did an amazing job of bringing Beth back to her vivacious self by showing her what a fun, wonderful, and loving person she is. You helped me by reminding me I was a loving person who had so much to offer and deserved to be loved. Yet you continue to fail to take that same message into your own heart. I don’t know what experiences you had in your life that made that you believe you shouldn’t or couldn’t have love but that belief is wrong. Everyone deserves love. You deserve love and there are people who DO love you. You just have to be willing to accept it.” She squeezed his hands and looked in his eyes to emphasize the point.

“We want you to speak to someone with training in dealing with these kinds of self-esteem issues. We see your value, now it’s your turn. Will you do that?” Hannah asked gently.

Ben nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I will make arrangements today and I will bring you the appointment information; the place, time, and name of the councillor you will speak with. Alright?”

He nodded again.

“We want you to be happy Ben. You deserve to be happy. We will check in with you every now and then and see how you are doing. To remind you that you have friends that love you.” she said to him as she watched his tears slide down his cheeks. She was worried about the man. She didn’t feel she could leave him alone. It was too soon to subject him to Tina but she knew Gabriella was taking some time off.

“Ben, I’m going to call someone to sit with you today. I think you need the company.” Hannah said firmly and he didn’t argue which made her even more convinced she was correct. She dialed the number and Gabriella picked up on first ring.

“Hi, could you sit with our friend today?” Hannah asked.

“I’ll be right over.”

Hannah put away her phone and patted Ben’s knee.

“I’m sorry.” Ben said, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Ben you have nothing to be sorry for. Whatever got you to where you are now, please know you are surrounded by people who love you and want to help. The only way that could have happened was because you are worthy of it. You reap what you sow.” Hannah replied.

The doorbell rang and Hannah got up and answered it.

Gabriella stepped inside with a look of concern on her face.

Hannah leaned in close and spoke quietly “Ben has agreed to see a councillor but he’s pretty shaky this morning. He needs someone to keep an eye on him. See if you can get him to talk. I have to go to the hospital as I have a board of directors meeting at ten.”

Gabriella nodded and slipped her coat and boots off. She had on the black knit sweater and black yoga pants. The sweater was long on her and reached just below her bottom. She wore it for comfort when she was at home.

Hannah poked her head around the corner and looked in on Ben who was still on the couch. “I’m heading off to work now Ben. I’ll see you later with the details I promised. Gabriella is going to spend some time with you, ok?”

Ben nodded and gave her a small smile.

With that and a look at Gabriella Hannah headed out.

Gabriella locked up and walked into the living room.

“Hi Ben!” she said and saw Ben straighten up his posture on the couch.

“Hello Gabriella, how was your trip?” he asked.

She smiled at him and saw his eyes light up just a little. Her heart made a little zing sensation when she saw that. “It was lovely! ankara escort Have you ever been to Europe?”

“No, I’ve never travelled anywhere.” he said, thinking about the trip to Hawaii he’d planned for Wendy.

“I highly recommend you plan a trip somewhere and someplace in Europe should be one of your first destinations. France, Spain, Germany, Italy and England are all excellent first trip candidates. Travelling broadens your perspective and gives you a real insight into different ways of living and the people who live there.” she sighed. “You can take a group tour or travel with someone who has experience in the place you choose and can act as guide.”

“I’d like that.” Ben said. “Maybe I will.”

She smiled at him and he smiled a little back at her.

“So I hear you’ve agreed to speak to someone.” Gabriella said gently.

“Yes.” he said nervously.

“I think that is a brave and smart move, Ben. It will help a lot!” she said, smiling.

“I’ve never talked to anyone about my past. I- I feel uncomfortable about telling… a stranger… personal things about me.” Ben fidgeted.

“The councillor keeps anything you say to them in strictest confidence. You can say anything to them. It should feel easier to open up to them.” she explained.

“The only time I’ve felt comfortable talking about me was with you and Catherine… and… I don’t know why.” He said looking down at his hands with a confused look on his face.

Gabriella looked at him. He really didn’t see that they loved him or even could. That hurt her a little and it must have shown on her face as Ben noticed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing Ben, it’s fine.” she said and forced a smile onto her face. She hoped that after his counselling he’d be more receptive to their love.

“This is why I’m going to see this councillor. I can’t seem to stop hurting people I care about!” he growled at himself.

“No Ben, you’re going to see the councillor to find out why you feel you’re not worthy of being loved. To find out what events in your past led you to that conclusion. Those of us who do love you… who are IN LOVE with you… feel pain when we see you hurting because of your misconceptions. But you shouldn’t worry about our pain because healing yourself will eliminate ours.”

“In love?” he whispered.

“Yes, you silly man! You have a few women who are in love with you and they accept the fact that others are in love with you too. Something else you need to understand is that love CAN work that way.” Gabriella smiled and shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to be here as your councillor, just a friend. What else would you like to talk about?”

He’d only had bad experiences with people who said that they loved him, Wendy being only the most recent. These experiences went back… a long way. He looked at Gabriella’s open and friendly expression. He wished she WAS his councillor but then he’d feel bad about burdening her with his baggage. Maybe he should do some ground work to prepare for his sessions with the councillor.

“What is love?” he asked her.

Gabriella snorted gently in surprise.

“I mean, what does love mean to you? I’ve been ‘in love’ a few times in my life and it’s never worked out for me so maybe if I could hear what love means to others I could see what I’ve done wrong.” he amended quickly.

“Why do you think you’re the one who did something wrong?” she asked. “You weren’t alone in these relationships, were you?”

Ben blinked at her and she smiled.

“When I met Daniel in University I was smitten. He was young and dashing and so in charge of his future. I came from a very poor family and I found his confidence with money and finance to be very attractive. He also said the right things to me and made me feel important. I was completely dazzled. He played the courting game very well. That doesn’t mean I was faultless the eventual state of our marriage. I put Daniel up on a pedestal. My expectations of him didn’t match reality. When I discovered that I tried to work with him to recapture what made me fall in love with him but some of that never existed outside of my mind and his passions had moved on from me to money. He had no desire to change anything as he had what he wanted. Instead of leaving Daniel who genuinely loved his children I gave up on finding happiness for myself so my children would have a stable home.”

“I’m sorry.” Ben said.

“My point in all that was that the two young people we were when we met in University weren’t honest with each other. We let our expectations and desires cloud our decisions. During courting, people always present their best attributes and hide the negative. Human nature I suppose. But we should have taken more time to get to know the real people we were before making the decision to get married. I don’t regret having my two wonderful children. There are other things I do regret but now I get to start over.”

“Find happiness.” he said

“Yes Ben. I’m going kızılay escort to find happiness!” she smiled at him.

“OK, so maybe I’m not solely to blame in the failures of my relationships. But maybe my expectations are interfering with my ability to sustain a healthy relationship.”

“List them.” Gabriella said.

“What?” he asked.

“You’ve just said you have expectations. What are they? If you can itemize them then maybe you can see if any truly are holding you back.”

“Fidelity.” he immediately said.

“You are particularly sensitive to that one based on how your marriage ended?” she asked.

“Yes. Discovering she’d been having an affair for potentially years hurt me more than I thought possible.”

“So maybe honesty is more of a critical item for you. If she had come to you before she had the affair and told you why she felt the need to have one, maybe you might not have been as hurt as you were?” Gabriella asked.

Ben thought about that for a bit. “I think it would have still hurt a great deal but… yes, I think if she’d been honest the pain would have been far less.”

“What else?” she asked.

“Communication.” he said.

“I think we just described that. Open communication but it needs to be truthful.” Gabriella said. “Next.”

“Uh. Loyal, friendly, kind, caring…” he struggled to name other expectations he had.

“These aren’t really outrageous expectations. Where are the ‘must be a nobel prize willing scientist, run a humanitarian aid station, and bench press 300 pounds’ requirements? How about must be able to cook, do book keeping, and laundry.” she smiled.

Ben smiled. “Reasonably intelligent, genuinely compassionate, and fit will do. The rest I can do myself.”

“So it sounds like your current expectations may not be as big a factor as you thought. What were your expectations when you got married? You said were planning on having a big family. When that turned out to be not in the cards, how did you react in your relationship? You still had a chance at being fertile with someone at that time, just not your wife. What did you do?” Gabriella pushed.

“I told her it wasn’t important. And it wasn’t.” he murmured.

“You adapted your expectations to protect what you had, right?” Gabriella clarified.


“So maybe your past expectations weren’t so rigid and difficult to live with either.” She said looking him in the eye. “What about sex? Did you want it more often than her or less often? Were you incompatible with how you wanted to have sex?”

“The only time she complained was after she discovered she couldn’t have babies. She wanted to cut back significantly. Then near the end of our marriage she wanted sex much less often. She even cut back on the cuddling before sleeping.”

“Near the end she was likely trying to distance herself from you. Limiting the intimacy in preparation for the separation.” Gabriella suggested. “But before that, generally, you two were compatible?”

Ben frowned. “Uh, I’ve mentioned that my body acts like a teenager. My libido has always been a little… over active. Wendy was sometimes annoyed by that. Not angry, really, just annoyed.”

Gabriella smirked. “More than one woman could endure?”

Ben smiled then caught the nuance of Gabriella’s question. Her frowned again.

“What?” she asked, seeing his quick mood swing.

“I’m not that kind of man.” he rumbled.

“What kind of man?” she asked.

“I don’t- I’m not promiscuous! I’m not unfaithful!” he growled.

“Have you made promises of fidelity to any of the women you’ve been with recently? I understand you’ve specifically told one the exact opposite yet she still wants to be with you. Another promised you no strings attached relationship. Neither calls you unfaithful. Neither has anything but praise for what a good person you are. Why do you think that is?” Gabriella asked gently.

Ben scowled and thought hard. Obviously she was talking about Tina and Trish.

Gabriella pressed on. “You did mention in your expectations that fidelity is the most important one. May I suggest that may have a lot to do with the type of relationship you were in? A traditional marriage is a contract with terms specifically defining the promise of fidelity. That’s a traditional marriage. There are open marriages that don’t have that clause and allow the spouses to seek emotional and physical enjoyment with other partners.”

“That’s unrealistic!” he growled.

“Really? We’ve talked about expectations. Let’s talk about beliefs. Do you believe the heart can only love one person at a time? Do you believe the traditional marriage is the only successful kind of relationship between adults?”

Ben thought about his complicated feelings for Gabriella, Catherine, Tina, and Trish. She saw it on his face so he couldn’t deny it. “No, people can love more than one person. But that leads to heartache when one partner feels unfulfilled!”

“That could polatlı escort definitely happen if there was no communication. No relationship will last in a vacuum. People just aren’t built to function that way. We need to be constantly in touch with each other to see if we can do something to ease the other’s way in life or if they can ease ours. That’s what make a rich relationship! Were you unwilling to communicate your feelings and needs with your wife?”

“No.” he mumbled.

“So communication shouldn’t be an issue for you.” she smiled.

“You can’t marry more than one person!” Ben argued.

“Back to the question of marriage then. Is that the only viable outcome of a relationship for you?” Gabriella asked.

“Well, traditionally. You meet someone. You date. You fall in love. You get married. You start a family. You grow old together.” Ben said.

“What about friends?” she asked. “How do you see that relationship working?”

“Friends you nurture for life.” Ben replied.

“That’s a really nice way of putting it. I think I like your idea of friendship more than that model of a traditional marriage. The idea of the nurturing never ending but being an integral part of the relationship sounds lovely!” she smiled. “Can I ask you how you define friendships? What are the benefits and limits? Can you love a friend, romantically, physically?”

Ben thought about friends. He thought about how he had been interacting with his neighbors, his friends. About how he was emotionally connected to them and cared about their well-being. How he HAD used sex to help them feel better. The light came on behind his eyes and Gabriella’s smile grew wider as she saw him understanding.

“Yes, you’re already there. It’s working and no one is hurt. Everyone wants you to feel as happy as you make us feel but the only one stopping that from happening is you.” Gabriella said gently.

“I hurt Tina.” Ben said through gritted teeth.

“And how did that happen?” she asked.

Ben looked at Gabriella sharply.

“Tina told us the whole story of your evening of dancing, minus the intimate details, so we are aware of the circumstances but I’d like to hear your opinion of what went wrong.” she added.

“I led her on. We had a wonderful evening and in the morning she told me how sad I’d made her. How I’d ruined her!” Ben said in anguish.

“Tina believes you don’t want her. Is that true?” Gabriella said bluntly.

Ben rocked back. “Don’t want her?!? Of course I want her! She’s beautiful, smart, loving, but SHE’S NOT FOR ME!” he barked.

“Who says?” she asked sternly.

Ben’s mouth opened but nothing came out at first. Then he recalled something. “Ah… I do… and Trish! Trish agrees with me! Tina is almost half my age! It’s unfair to her!”

“I think if you spoke with Trish now that she’s had time to understand Tina better she’d give you a different answer but let’s leave that alone for a minute. Instead let’s take a look at the word you just used. Unfair. I think you’d agree with me that finding a compatible mate is difficult. Someone you can love. Someone that loves you back. The push and pull of personalities, wants, needs, and desires can make that very difficult. Tina is a special case. She’s a submissive. Her needs are very specific and the risks for her is much greater. How much more difficult do you think her submissiveness makes it for her to find a compatible mate. She’s had a very bad experience in her marriage. In you she’s found someone who is willing to give her what she needs without fear of abuse. Then you pushed her away because you believe she needs to find someone else.” Ben began to protest but Gabriella held up her hand so she could continue. “Do you understand she doesn’t need to be the ONLY person in your life? She just wants to be part of yours. You’re right, she’s young. She’s going to be going to University. She will meet people. Maybe she will meet someone closer to her age that can fulfil that special need she has. Wouldn’t that be easier for her if she had a support system in place until it happened?”

“But- but she said I ruined her for everyone else. How would I make that better by allowing it to continue?” he argued

“First true loves are always the best. That doesn’t mean life doesn’t move you along. Sure you always compare new relationships to the first and Ben you are pretty tough to beat, but life goes on. Tina is YOUNG! Everything is a little more immediate and dramatic for the young. Don’t be trapped by her current angst.” she said with an understanding smile.

“So… are you telling me I should let her live with me and be my lover?” Ben said, confused.

Gabriella still felt a little uncomfortable with the idea but realized that was exactly what she had to be ok with it for everyone’s sake including hers.

“Look, you set out a life plan for Tina. It’s hugely generous of you and truly demonstrates you care about her future. I’m not saying you change the plan significantly. Just let her into your life on the condition that she keeps her heart and mind open to possibility of love in the future from someone she may meet. You in turn will have to be aware that what you two have may not be permanent. Kind of like friends with benefits. Someday she may meet ‘the one’ and you two will just remain friends. Special friends.”

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The Senior Trip Ch. 01

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In the small high school in the little town of Lynwood, Ohio, in the mid 1990’s, a feeling of pleasant anticipation ran through the halls. Spring break approached and a week off from school seemed like heaven. For a small group of senior honor students, however, there was something more — a trip for a week in Washington, cause enough for elation. The group, four girls and one boy, anticipated a week of freedom and adventure, limited only by the supervision of a faculty chaperone. In years past, the chaperone, a Mr. Phillips, was reputed to be interested in having a good time, not being a wet blanket, leaving presumably mature seniors a reasonable amount of discretionary activity. Unfortunately, their euphoria was due to be dampened considerably when a different chaperone was announced by a notice on the bulletin board in the school lunch room.

One of the girls involved read the notice and exclaimed, “Damn, wait until Kenny sees this!” The response was immediate as Kenny Singleton came in behind her, asking, “What should I see?” Then reading the notice, his face tuned red as he exclaimed, “What in the hell is this? How could they pick the Witch to go with us? Good God, she’ll ruin everything for all of us, particularly me! What happened to Phillips?” It turned out that Mr. Phillips had personal problems, necessitating his being replaced by another highly regarded teacher — highly regarded by the administration anyway.

The teacher involved, usually referred to in private as “the Witch” (although some times the “W” became a “B”), was Mrs. Linda Kramer. She was universally recognized by her colleagues as one of their nicest colleagues, but she had certain tendencies that made her equally recognized as one of the teachers least liked by many students. A math teacher, she was a disciplinarian, requiring strict adherence to an extensive list of personal rules. She always had been something of a stickler for the rules, but in the last semester she had become noticeably more acerbic, more inclined to pick up on petty violations. Even the students agreed that she was fair in grading, but she was not evenhanded in her classroom activities. In every class she seemed to pick one unlucky person to serve as a foil, a goat. She tended to select athletes, extremely popular students and, of course, anyone who refused to knuckle under to her arbitrary rules.

In fact, if truth be known, much of her prejudice was caused by her fear of the students, themselves. This was not fear of physical violence, of course, but was a fear that if she let down, even for a minute, chaos would result. Actually, while she was 45 years old with a master’s degree in mathematics, Mrs. Kramer was relatively new to the teaching profession. She majored in math in college, married shortly after graduation and quickly became pregnant. While her two sons grew up, she stayed home, taking an occasional graduate course in mathematics, the credits adding up until, with the boys old enough to supervise themselves, she completed the work necessary for her M.A. She had no particular career objectives, just interest, but, with a severe shortage of math teachers in the school system, she was pressured to become a teacher herself. So, with minimal student teacher experience, during a summer session, she was emergency certi?ed, and, at the age of 42, began teaching full time at Lynwood High School. Thus, while she had the academic training, far more than math teachers who took education courses as their major, her classroom experience was relatively brief, and, frankly, she just wasn’t con?dent in her ability to handle discipline problems. So, she headed off the problem by staying distant from her students and sticking to rules.

That practice had worked effectively for some time, her genuine expertise in her teaching specialty making her an excellent instructor, particularly for advanced students, but something else had arisen lately to sour her disposition and cause her to be even more tart in the classroom — she was feeling old. Her youngest son had graduated from college and was considering marriage. Most signi?cantly, however, was the fact that her older son had made her a grandmother at what she considered far too early an age. Grandmothers were sixty-plus, had gray hair and wore housedresses and aprons! Heavens knows, she loved the grandchild, but she didn’t want to be a grandmother! Even worse, she had that not unusual relationship with her husband in which he was wrapped up in his work, and their association, while still affectionate, was more that of close friends rather than lovers. On top of everything else, he was insensitive enough to refer to her occasionally as grandma,” rather that Linda. Since she could do nothing about these things, she took them out on her classes. She, of course, would have vehemently denied that such unprofessional motivations led to classroom bias, and would have been morti?ed if forced to face the truth.

The surprising thing about all of this is that Mrs. Kramer, in “real” life, was a pleasant, considerate woman, ankara escort easy to get along with and good to be around. In addition, at the age of 45, not a grandmotherly age, she had a ?gure that the girls in her class envied. She was a small woman, 5′ 3″ and weighing about 120 pounds, with breasts that were outsized and prominent. Those, plus her ?rm and ?t body, led even the teenage boys (and girls) who disliked her to speculate as to what she was like under her clothes.

However, as far as the clothing, itself, was concerned, there would have been few surprises. A devotee of conservative dresses and suits, with skirts longer than style demanded, Linda Kramer wore lingerie that was tasteful and equally conservative. The only somewhat unusual thing was her wearing of garter belts and hose, rather than pantyhose, but her skirts never rose high enough to reveal even that slight variation from the norm. Certainly, none of her students would ever have actual knowledge of the body under those clothes! She was very modest, as well as a conservative and disciplined, woman — and the bete noir of Kenny Singleton. Actually, Kenny was exactly the type of student who was almost certain to be the focus of Mrs. Kramer’s attention. He was a successful two-sport (football and wrestling) athlete as well as being the very popular student-body president. In addition, he had a somewhat perverse sense of humor which delighted in puncturing pretensions and violating picayune rules which seemed to have little purpose but to harass others. Unfortunately, many of Mrs. Kramer’s rules appeared to him to ?t that category, causing no end of discipline problems.

In fact, Kenny was quite intelligent (four years in the school’s honors program, having earned a 1500+ score on the SAT’s, for example), and that further frustrated Mrs. Kramer. When she asked a hard question, she always asked it of him. When he answered correctly, as he did most of the time, she gave no praise and went on to the next problem. On those relatively few occasions when he failed, she reacted scornfully, harping on his failure to be prepared. This, of course, was blatantly unfair, and, since he was very popular with both fellows and girls, the use of the word “bitch” frequently replaced “witch.” As a result, there was a continual feeling of tension in the classroom with him (and classmates) resenting her harassment (i.e. “always on his back”), and her, irked by his, as she saw it, ?aunting of her authority, feeling it necessary to rein him in.

In any case, regardless of who was to blame, the thought of having her as a full-time supervisor for what was supposed to be a fun week in D.C. was infuriating. Unfortunately, no amount of complaining moved the mountain that was the administration and, on the Monday morning of spring break, the ?ve students and teacher climbed aboard the bus for the long trip to Washington. In addition to Kenny and Mrs. Kramer, the group consisted of Beth Simmons (Kenny’s present girlfriend), Jenny Simpkins, Judith Warner and Angela Rodriguez. Kenny and the ?rst three girls had been together since kindergarten and Angela had joined them in fourth grade. They were quite close, particularly since the ?ve of them had been in the honors program throughout their high school years, thus being in the same classes most of the time. This, of course, made the girls resent Mrs. Kramer almost as much as Kenny did.

The ride to Washington was uneventful, with Kenny sitting with Beth. She did her best to downplay the potential problems, but the whole situation continued to upset Kenny. He had handled the classroom personality con?ict with considerable aplomb, particularly for an 18-year old boy, basically by refusing to be baited by Mrs. Kramer’s treatment. (Of course, now, at 18, he no longer was really a “boy” and he disliked being treated as one.) He recognized that ignoring her sarcasm and derision was more disconcerting and frustrating than any reply that he could make. Inside, however, he frequently was seething as he sat there, smiling and accepting her abuse. He always knew that at the end of the class period he could leave, apparently unruf?ed. Now, though, he saw ?ve full days that he had looked forward to all school year being ruined, and, as he told Beth, he was becoming very tired of “turning the other cheek” and was afraid that he would explode before the trip was over.

Here we have what is the basic self-ful?lling prophesy. As happens so often, anticipating or fearing problems leads to having problems. In this case, little things, minor comments or jibes which would have been ignored, or perhaps not even noticed, became major irritants. For example, the party checked into an old, solid middle-class hotel with the four girls being assigned to two double rooms with a connecting door. (Fortunately the thick walls and doors provided natural soundproo?ng to contain the girlish screams and shrieks which were inevitable.) Originally, Kenny and the male chaperone were to share a room and, carelessly, no one from the school had changed the reservations. With the original arrangements obviously impossible ankara eve gelen escort due to the nature of the parties, the hotel staff scrambled to ?nd new accommodations. There being no single rooms available, the reservations were upgraded to the only vacant space, a luxurious suite with a sitting room, two bedrooms and two baths — certainly far more luxurious quarters than the school system could have paid for. In fact, it hardly could have been better, solving the sleeping accommodation problem, plus providing a place for the group to gather and talk. Mrs. Kramer, perhaps innocently, perhaps not, ruined a good thing by commenting that the arrangements were perfect because she had to keep her eye on the only male in the group. Regardless of her intent, Kenny was sensitized to see any remark as criticism and this one brought him one step closer to that anticipated explosion. The same thing went on all afternoon and during dinner, with innocent or not-so-innocent remarks taken as criticism.

Added to this, it soon became apparent that Mrs. Kramer had no intention of following Mr. Phillips’ laissez-faire pattern of supervision. She made it quite clear that she expected the entire group to stay together at all times — under her observation. This piece of news was dropped like a bombshell as they separated and headed for their respective rooms. The group had no time to respond to this seemingly arbitrary decree, so, after storming around his room for ?fteen minutes or so, his ire rising all the time, Kenny deputized himself to be spokesman. He went out into the sitting room and knocked emphatically on the other bedroom door. She opened it and stood there with a startled and worried expression on her face, asking, “Kenny, is something wrong?”

“Something’s wrong, all right! You’re acting like a dictator and spoiling our trip! Why can’t we go where we want?” In fact, he was wrong in this case, for her view of a chaperone’s duty was completely innocent and followed the rules set down by the Lynwood school board. Mr. Phillips was at fault for lax supervision in past trips, and Mrs. Kramer, who had never accompanied a group like this, wanted to be sure to follow the rules to avoid problems and criticism. However, Kenny was not prepared to accept a rational response and, faced with what she regarded as an insubordinate and insolent student, Mrs. Kramer was not inclined to explain or be conciliatory. In any case, the issue of supervision was only the trigger for a long simmering feud, and consequently, the debate rapidly degenerated into a confrontation about the entire school year. While her attitude was the real cause of the bad feeling, there was sufficient fault on both sides so that each had plenty of ammunition. Recriminations ?ew thick and fast, tempers rising, until, ?nally, Mrs. Kramer exploded, shouting, “Young man, if you were my son, I’d give you a sound spanking! This is just too much! Tomorrow, I’m going to put you on a bus and send you back home!”

For Kenny, this was the ?nal straw. “If someone around here needs a spanking, it’s not me!” As he ground out those words, he gripped her around the waist, set back on the bed, and dropped her across his thighs. Flipping her skirt up over her back, he grasped the waistband of her panties and literally ripped them from her body. Hard as it might be to believe, Kenny was completely unaffected by the sensual sight revealed to him. Framed by the straps of her garter belt was a pair of hips that a sodomite would love — perfect globes covered with soft pink skin unexpected in a 45-year old woman. A deep crevice between the rounded cheeks ran downward, continuing as a slit between two plump, hair-covered lips pushed outward by her position. At that point began a very nice pair of legs with garter straps supporting sheer dark hose. All this was lost in his rage as he raised his hand and brought it down with a sharp slap, the “smacking” noise echoing throughout the room. That blow left a red imprint on the left cheek, quickly followed by a similar smack on the other, the ?rst two of many.

For Linda Kramer, the whole sequence was unbelievable. There seemed to be no transition: one second she was standing, involved in a furious verbal dispute, the next she was draped over a hard pair of legs, her head hanging down, her hips jutting upward. She was stunned, literally unable to comprehend what had happened. She was brought back to herself abruptly, however, when she suddenly felt her skirt thrust up and her panties violently ripped off, her most private features completely revealed. Oddly enough, her ?rst thought was only of the exposure, not why she was there and what was going to happen. She always had been proud (and even bragged) that no man other that her husband (and a few doctors who weren’t really men) had ever seen her naked, and now, for practical purposes, a student could see everything below her waist. She clenched the muscles of her buttocks and squeezed her legs together to hide everything she could and, loudly and with some questionable çankaya escort language and threats, demanded to be released.

When the ?rst smack came, however, her focus immediately changed. With a cry of pain, she ?ailed wildly, her legs kicking up and down, her torso twisting desperately. Efforts at concealment were forgotten, her legs spreading widely as she attempted to break loose. The blows rained down, smack…smack…smack, sending waves of agony through her body as she thrashed back and forth. There was no pattern to the action, the spanking hand hitting whatever part of her rear that was directly under it at the time. First one cheek, then the other, sometimes two or three smacks on the same spot as he was able to hold her still. Several times her efforts caused her body to slide upwards and the next smack would hit directly on her bulging cunt lips, bringing a different squeal of pain. The process was very noisy, the smacks, each followed by a screech or shriek. Between blows, she loudly screamed her demand that he stop and let her up. Thank heavens for those thick, soundproof walls and doors!

On Kenny’s part, he really wasn’t thinking or listening, only reacting to the rage that had built up in him over the school year and brought to a head by her injudicious threat to send him home. Smack…..”Ouch! Damn it, let me up!” smack….”Ow! I’ll get you for this!” smack….. “Ooooh, stop it!” smack…..”Ouch, ooh, stop!” smack…”I ’11 have you arrested!” It went on and on, her struggling, demanding that he stop, threatening, twisting and turning — anything to stop the beating. The blows were hard, intended to hurt, and they did. She had never felt anything like this. She had never been spanked before, even as a child, and the indignity, the humiliation, hurt almost as much as the hand belaboring her ass. She was enraged that he had the temerity to do such a thing to her, a teacher, a grown woman — and on her bare bottom, a thought that sent a new ?are of anger through her. The spanking went on and on, her bottom becoming beet-red as the hand-imprints merged into a solid, deep crimson.

As Kenny’s wrath was gradually appeased by his very thorough spanking of Mrs. Kramer, and his arm ?nally began to tire, he, bit-by-bit, became more aware of the erotic sights spread before him. The feel of her ass cheeks was quite sensuous as they quivered and bounced as he hit them, like spanking a pair of very ?rm foam rubber pillows. Her legs ?ailed back and forth as she tried to free herself, opening and closing, giving him frequent glimpses of her cunt, and, even when they were tight together, her cunt lips protruded in a fascinating way. He knew what a cunt looked like, of course. No teen-age boy, even in those days, could be ignorant of that part of the female anatomy, what with X-rated movies, porno sites on the internet, etc. Nonetheless, as his spanking slowed, he leaned to the side to get a better view of this cunt. However, that distraction caused him to loosen his hold on his victim, and she was ?nally able to pull free, rolling off of his lap and falling ?at on her back on the rug.

She had never ceased her struggle or her verbal assault and, she was in the midst of the continuing tirade as she unexpectedly fell off and hit the ?oor, driving the air out of her lungs. She lay there, skirt up to her stomach, her legs splayed open, gasping for breath. Neither moved, and it was almost as if time was frozen. Kenny gaped at her open cunt, never having seen a real one displayed like that. Oh, he had gotten two girlfriends, after a date, to lower their panties in the car for quick petting sessions, but little detail could be seen in the semi-darkness. Recently, as he and Beth had become more serious about their relationship, the petting with her had become quite extensive, involving mutual masturbation (and, even then, it was done more by feel than vision), but he had never gotten her to “go the whole way.” It may seem unlikely that an eighteen year old man should have such limited sexual experience, but this was before the age of “hook ups” and female virginity was still prized. As a result, research showed that, despite normal male braggadocio, close to a majority of entering male college freshmen had done nothing more than “heavy” petting in high school. As it happened, one of the reasons Kenny was so furious at having Mrs. Kramer replace Mr. Phillips was that he was pretty sure, from some recent hints, that with minimal supervision in a strange city, he might ?nally get Beth to “put out.” He had even purchased a packet of condoms in case the big event should occur! In any case, what was spread open before him was not the vagina of an eighteen year-old girl, sparsely hair-covered and virginal — it was the cunt of a mature, adult woman. In reality, it was like looking at the illustration of the female sexual organs in their sex education class. He didn’t consciously do an inventory, but there were the outer-lips, thickly covered with curly, brownish- blonde hair, puffy and somewhat swollen from being spanked. These external lips were pulled back in arousal, revealing the dark red, shiny inter-lips, the shine coming from the lubrication that was a sure sign of that arousal. Finally, in the center was an even darker red hole, the portal into her most intimate recesses.

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The Secluded Beach

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It was a perfect holiday, the sand beneath our feet, her hand in mine. Looking at her and she smiles back at me, warmth spreading throughout my body. I squeeze her hand a little tighter, just to feel it. How wonderfully real it feels. She turns towards me and we embrace, only a few birds above are present to witness our love. They will never tell of what they see here today.

She had driven me there, to that secluded beach, as a sort of surprise. As she drove I’d joked that we were going so far from civilisation that she would be able to do anything to me and no one would ever know. she just smiled when I said it. That lovely smile.

We got out and walked the short distance from the car, she had parked it under the shade of a large tree, to the beach. It was so quiet, with only the waves and a few distant birds making any sounds at all. So calm and peaceful that all the stress of everyday life just melted away, a distant and unpleasant memory. She walked up to me and took my hand. There were just the two of us there and nothing else mattered. With her eyes and lips drawing me in as if they were magnetic in some way I kissed her. I kissed her and melted into her arms as we embraced. We kissed for what felt like a quiet and bliss-filled eternity. Just holding on to each other. her soft lips against mine.

It was her idea at first, but since we were alone and I feel more comfortable undressed I agreed immediately to her proposal that we remove those last trappings of civilisation that were our clothes and slip into the water dressed like Adam and Eve. There’s something so natural about being naked and like many women she looked quite beautiful au naturel. I could never say no to an opportunity to see her naked, nor decline her an opportunity to see me equally undressed. She slipped into the water like Venus from the sea returning for a visit to the place where she was born. It was beautiful just to watch her. Walking into the water myself she couldn’t resist taunting me a little, egging me on to go further out by keeping her distance. Her pull was as usual significantly larger than my fear about being a bad swimmer. The water was about shoulder high when she swam into my arms, her hair and skin glistening from the warm water. Her eyes glittering with something more. She held on to me as we kissed, making me hold her up in the water a bit. Feeling her limbs all around me, trapping me in a way I could never object to. All I could do was to hold her tight as I felt her body against my own, squeezing away the water between us. Kissing the only woman in the world right then. Just having her near had an intoxicating effect on me.

We swam some more, with her taking the lead. I don’t know which one of us is the most daring on land but in the water it is most certainly her. She swam up behind me, planting a love bite on my neck. Telling me that my skin tasted salty. She clang to my back, moving her hands all over my front. Feeling her bosom against my back. I turned around and held her in my arms again, she has such a lovely loving smile. I couldn’t resist lifting her up by her buttocks, holding on to them tightly. After kissing her again I knew just what I wanted to do so I suggested getting out of the water. Our skin glittering as we escort bayan left the water for dry land, sitting down on the beach. Relaxing I lied down next to her, hoping to entice her into mounting me. leaning towards me she let her right hand draw little patterns with the droplets of water that were left on my torso and abdomen, her fingers edging slowly downwards.

Her fingers came upon it as if by accident and she smiled at me after she had discovered, seen and felt, the state she had put me in. She let her fingers wander up to my chest and started playing around my nipples. Circling them again and again before squeezing them, gently at first and then harder. Egging me on until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Feeling like a ravenous wolf that had been starved for far too long I rolled her over on her back. Kissing her at first on the lips and down the salty skin on her neck. Kissing my way further down, I could play with, caressing and kissing, her heavenly hills for an eternity. Nibbling on her lovely nipples, rolling them against my lips. Her hands caressing my neck and back. Telling me to go on she pushed me downwards a little, quite aware of my weakness for her bosom. Kissing my way down over her stomach and then out on one of her legs. I love feeling them both wrapped around me and against my lips and fingers so that I might worship them.

Kissing and caressing my way up and down her legs, so lovely. I was in a trance as she purred with delight. Kissing my way down her inner thighs, wandering slowly towards her fountain of life. The edges between her thighs and her groin are perfect for the tip of my tongue, a snug fit. her skin still salty from the water. As I kissed my way around her sensitive spot she grabbed my hair, more and more trying to direct my movements. As she put her legs up on my back I could no longer object and lying there I kissed her luscious lower lips with as much fire as I a few moments ago kissed her mouth. The tip of my tongue an eager explorer into her many wonderful mysteries. My hands wandering all over every part of her that I could reach. My hands never getting enough of her, always hungry for more. Licking her up the tip of my tongue circled her rosebud, brushing up against it to test her excitement. Her juices were already flowing like a torrent, leaving me with a wet chin. So firm was her rosebud that soon I was sucking gently on it, leaving her shuddering, moaning.

She held my head, my face, tighter and tighter against her hungry lower mouth. Almost insatiable in her desires. As she started convulsing more and more my hands sought out her breasts, my fingers playing with her swollen nipples. In the back of my head I wondered what the local wildlife was assuming from her animal moans and groans. To be the cause of such pleasure is an enormous boost to ones ego. There are few if any things that even comes close to compare to it. With her grip so tight that it was like she was trying to push me inside and her thighs pressing against my cheeks she started shaking, I pushed her over the edge and into the abyss. She climaxed with her whole body, pulses that even I could feel travelling all the way up and down her body. Her shaking hands rubbing my face in the mess I had made dikmen escort as I struggled to keep suckling her clit. By the time she was calming down most of my face below the eyes was wet from her juices. All I could do was to lick my lips and smile.

It took a while for her to come back to earth, she pulled my head up as if to kiss me but then instead asked me with a smile to wash off. So I went down to the water, leaving her looking like she had just run a marathon. Panting and sweating, she looked like she had been hit by a hurricane of lust. She was mind-numbingly beautiful, almost as beautiful as she was at the very instant that she came. Waded in until I was about waist deep, scooping up water in my hands and splashing my face. In the end I went a bit deeper and got rid of the sand that had stuck to my chest as I had been lying there licking hard. Going under a few times. After a while I looked back up at the beach. For a moment I panicked, she wasn’t there. I looked up and down the beach but she was nowhere to be seen, my mind was starting to spin in all kinds of different scary directions. Had she left me? No, that wasn’t her type of humour. Had she been taken? No, no sign of anybody else anywhere near. Then I felt something touch me under the water, I turned to look and there was that smile again.

She kissed me and I felt a surge of relief, as well as excitement. She led me towards the shallower waters, taking my hand in hers. She led me to where it was only a couple of inches or so of water when the waves came crashing in. Kissing me and then kneeling before me she told me it was time to return the favour. Running her fingers down over my chest, all the way to my groin. Continuing down my inner thigh. She let her fingers explore all around my staff, rising up under her inspection. Playing and touching all over my most sensitive skin. A few light kisses and she had me shivering with delight, knees trembling. She gripped me more firmly, pumping me. Feeling impatient I pleaded with her to just take me.

She helped me lie down on the sand, my feet sticking out into the water which reached all the way up to my bottom at it’s highest. Crouching next to me she held me in a firm grip, playing with me until she had me at full attention. She smiled as she crouched over me, guiding me in. At first only letting the tip taste her wetness. She was as eager as before if not more. She teased me for a while, only taking it in a little, before she seemed to grow tired off it and engulfed me so quickly that it made me gasp. When I was fully immersed she looked at me and said that she had me now. That now she owned me, I was hers. As she moved slowly up I couldn’t have agreed more wholeheartedly with her. She was the perfect rider for a beast such as myself, the perfect mistress.

She rode me as the waves came crashing in, smiling at her captive as my hands wandered between her bosom and her buttocks. Squeezing both, delighting in her flesh as it swallowed and milked my member. Smiling she leaned down, biting my neck. Holding her buttocks tightly I did what I could to increase her pace, counter thrusting as much as I could. The waves tickling and caressing my sensitive sack and inner ankara otele gelen escort thighs. Holding her close to me as we made love. Wanting to feel her body. Enjoying the feel of her skin against mine in the warm weather on the lovely beach. Our own lover’s paradise, ours and ours alone. She pushed off against my shoulders and rose back up to sitting. Riding me with just her hips, grinding against me. Riding me like that she asked me who was my queen and conqueror, how could I name anyone but her? Calling her my lady she called me her dirty boy, taking hold of my jaw for a moment smiling down on me. There’s just something about a woman with an appetite that’s an enormous turn-on to me. A woman filled with desire, passion. That asks or makes me fill her needs.

She leaned down again, rubbing our pelvic bones against one another through the skin, grinding her clit against me. With her head to the left of mine she whispered into my ear that she was going to do whatever she wanted with me, that she would keep riding me until she was satisfied and not stop a moment sooner. I whispered back that I loved her and that she could do with me as she pleased. She said she knew, before nibbling roughly on my earlobe. Making me wince at the same time as she was making me moan with pleasure. I don’t know how long she rode me like that, fast enough for me to enjoy it but too slow for me to climax. It felt like an eternity of pleasure-filled torment. But then she seemed to be closing in on her apex, I could feel her shuddering as she moaned into my ear. She arose and with one hand caressing herself she dug the fingers of her other hand into my thigh and rode me with force. With my hands on her hips I counter thrusted and did everything I could to go faster, harder. She seemed determined to come together, her hand caressing herself faster and faster as she bounced around on top of me. Involuntarily I dug my fingers into her hips, there was no way I would be letting go now. Water splashing up as we frantically fought our way to our common yet selfish goal. To explode in desire.

We were both shaking and shuddering, pulses flashing up and down our spines signalling the approaching annihilation. I don’t know who of us screamed the loudest when we came. I’m not even sure which of us came the first, but the difference was so minute that in my disoriented state I had little ability to tell. She seemed to start milking my member a second or so before I completely lost control of myself and emptied myself into her shaking body. Almost blacking out as I did so. Forcefully milked into oblivion by her pleasure-driven orchid, her flesh-eating flower. Time and time again I released until there was nothing left and I lied like some jelly fish washed up on the shore, equally incapable of moving as I seemed to have ejaculated my spine into my loved one. She rode me without mercy until her own shudders had ebbed out and left her as drained as myself. Lying there with gentle waves lapping at our fatigued bodies. Panting and smiling at one another. I caressed some of her hair away from her face and then kissed her, breathing life into each other. We just lied there resting until we were more than certain that our legs were strong enough to walk with again.

We swam a bit more before walking further along the beach, exploring the surroundings. Stopping here and there to kiss, even stopping to make love a few times. Colonising the beach and claiming it as our own by our love-making. Scaring the wildlife by our enthusiastic moans. It was late when we left, vowing to return soon.

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