This story is a slight departure from my usual stories and was co-written with my husband, Rusty Marshall. Bridget Mallory lay corpse-still, staring at the ceiling, beside her husband of more than twenty years. A solitary tear slipped from one eye and slowly snaked its way toward her ear. Frustration was nothing new to her. She had spent more than a few fru...
Everyone in this story is at least the age of 18. Please rate and comment if you would like me to continue the series! ++++ Ever notice how some girls just have perfect blowjob faces? How, from the second you look at them, you know that their face would look so much better covered in your hot, sticky cum? Bridget was one of those girls, and John stared a...
When I saw Bridget at school the day after she and Elaine got, um, acquainted, there was a palpable tension between us. We'd reached an understanding-she agreed to stop demanding that I pleasure her with my outsized equipment, and I admitted that the reason I was resisting her charms so resolutely was that I wanted to win her respect more than her body. So y...
Bridget walked in the kitchen and called him: "Slave, come here." When he had joined her. She said as she was peeing in his mouth: "My suitcases are in my car; carry them to the bedroom next to Diane's. Then bring my bag from the sex shop with some ice to the living room. I have a gift for you." He walked in the living room with her bag and a bowl of ice...
It was finally Friday and Bridget was trying her best to get the hell out of Seattle. The trouble was, rain was coming down in buckets and traffic everywhere had slowed to a near-standstill. This problem seemed to arise every time she and Michael tried to arrange a little tryst at his place upcoast. Michael had a cozy little cabin which overlooked the ocea...
Author's Note: This is part of a series of short stories. They are written very quickly and are not edited. They are also VERY weird and are not for everyone. You have been warned. * "We are so lost," Catherine grumbled. "No, we're not. Just a little turned around is all," denied Bridget as she tapped on her GPS furiously. Catherine rolled her eyes and pu...
Special thanks to editors DaneW and kasmith05. ***** It was a peculiar dilemma. I wanted so badly to see and move, but all I could do was sit and wait. My hands were bound behind me around the back of a wooden dining chair. The restraints were smooth and sheer: a feminine scarf made to keep hair, not wrists, in place. A thicker black scarf looped around my...
Bridget Marquardt and I slowly regained our strength. The cool air of the bungalow made it easier. I rolled over and looked at her lying there, naked as I was. "I forgot how good that felt." She said with a smile as she looked at me. "Me too." I replied. Bridget sat up and stretched her arms out, her tits still looked so inviting. But my dick needed time...
I served as Mistress Angela's house slave for two years, and had an easy life with her. I didn't realize it, though—not until she made a choice that changed everything. Mistress Angela had a circle of domme friends who visited her regularly, and one evening she upended my world by giving me to one of them on a whim. That is, she gave me away as a permanent p...
Bridget was in college and working on a final project for her class. She was getting frustrated as she could not figure out the code she needed to make her project work. She done some research online and found an instructor that could help her out. She sent Fed the instructor her problem and he told her for a small fee he could help her out and fix the site...