My name is Dadelie Voltaire. I'm a tall, good-looking young Black woman living in the city of Buffalo, New York. I major in criminal justice at Buffalo State College, and someday, I'm going to be a police officer like my father Alan. I come from a long line of police officers. I guess you could say it's in my blood. Plus, I'm a bit of a control freak so law...
Leaving the rhetorical question hanging, Dean Wilkins swung her athletic frame up off the chair and came to a standing position. After tugging at the hem and bodice of her dress until a semblance of order was restored, she spun smartly toward the door and, in three long, bold, strides, was gone. The moment the Dean was out of sight, Jodie found herself caug...
The cool air coming in from the open window kept the space beneath the covers all the more warm and inviting yet more so were the arms of another. To lay there and listen to another's heart beating after having slid into the shared warmth beneath the sheets was so intoxicating to her senses, sometimes it gave Amanda cause to wonder how much of this was dream...
This is obviously a work of fantasy, not logic - be nice to each other. And read the first two parts if you like - it all follows on. Naomi stood in front of Christina, blue eyes downcast, her thick, chestnut hair shading her face from Christina's stern glare. They were in the study of Christina's home. "Say that again, please," Christina commanded, the 3...
Simply being the only one naked makes me feel so alive... to be ogled, fondled, bound and displayed... my degree of aliveness was greater than ever in my life. So beyond naked, so owned, bound, displayed... the air on my skin, their eyes on my helplessly exposed nudity, and trickling love juices... I was brought to the table again but this time to kneel b...
----------------------------------------------- Warning: Just to let the more squeamish readers know, this story contains themes of domination, nonconsent, and reluctance, as well as a lot of pain. ----------------------------------------------- This is not the end of our story, and it's definitely not the beginning. This is just one delicious fruit fr...
Chapter 02 -- 2nd Rung This is the second instalment of Sara's story, and will make more sense if you've read the first already. Everyone in this story is over 18. * When I awoke in my new bed in Helen's house, it was a Monday morning -- a working day. Not wearing panties under my uniform skirt was no novelty, as I'd given up wearing them during my brief...
She said, "Francie, come with me to the party." At that time my name was Francie, not Tulip. I wasn't sure I wanted to go to the party. Why should I go to a party with her? We were no longer seeing each other, no longer sleeping together, and now after not hearing from her for nearly two months, she had suddenly dropped in unexpectedly and invited me out....
Sarah's hands felt very warm on Wendy's breasts, and Wendy relished the blissful feelings invoked by Sarah's expert mammary massaging skills. The general euphoric feelings of pleasure that Wendy was fully immersed in were further augmented by the gentle, writhing motions of Sarah's body on Wendy's in addition to the gentle stroking of Wendy's pussy by her se...
I lined up my last shot, eight ball to the side pocket. I didn't need to take my time; it was and easy shot. The game was already over and my opponent, some cowboy hat wearing guy named Rick or Rich had only had one turn. I was cleaning up, like I did. I never bet money out in this tiny ass town's only bar. I had money. Vegas had opened its coffers to me, bu...