It's a rock... in a stream. I'm looking right at the fucking painting. I see the rock. I see the stream. What I don't fucking see is a fucking metaphor for women's struggle against social inequity in 1880 France. It's a fucking rock in a stream. My struggle in art appreciation is itself a representation of my first year of college. How do you study for a c...
I'm the bastard of a husband with a slutty, exhibitionist wife. At least right now that's the way it is. I invited a buddy along on vacation for the sole purpose of allowing him to watch my wife through the window for an entire week. As it turned out, he allowed himself to be caught in the act, and my wife decided to let him watch, and subsequently found tha...
As the days passed by, both Fred and Ginger could not stop their minds wondering to their last encounter, not wanting it to stop, but again their lives forcing them apart, but both still both recalling it like it was a dream. Adding extra bits in their minds as they used it as stimulation when alone. Did it actually happen; did they both clean up and then...
My name is Joe and my wife is Tracy. We are both professionals in the computer services field. Each year our company has an annual meeting where the employees from the various divisions meet and are also joined by our clients. The location for the meeting rotates from year to year from one of the following cities - San Diego, Chicago, San Antonio, Las Vegas...
This is my third Tug story. In this one, our hero and his Atlantean wife solve the mystery of Jack the Ripper; thereby, saving the world from Nazi Armageddon. Their discoveries expose the real truth behind the Whitechapel murders, along with some of the more unsavory elements of Victorian England. Along the way, they meet the legendary Victorian swashbuckler...
Before reading this little adventure, I would ask you to please read the earlier parts of The Weekend story. Originally intended as a stand-alone story the first part has been changed slightly at the suggestion of several readers in order to extend and complete the tale of our heroine. An absolute figment of my imagination, there may not be enough sexual sh...
"I promise you'll love it," Ingrid said as she kissed me on the cheek. "Why not come with me?" "No, the Soiree is the sort of place you need to go alone," she explained cupping my D cup breast and kissing my nipple that immediately exploded into its full hardness. I had been transferred from the London Head Office to the company's Denmark Branch in Copenh...
This all began because I was an idiot. I was a person who couldn’t let a dare go by without at least attempting to do it. I wasn’t wild or anything, just slightly crazy, and willing to step outside the norms of society. The more off center and daring, the more I wanted to do the dare. At times in the past I had let my friends convince me to do things, that...
Chapter I started with my wife and I on a combination business trip and mini-vacation in San Francisco. On our first night she had dabbled with flashing and delighted several men with sights of her charms. The night finished with her stripping in the fully lit hotel room, knowing that men in an apartment complex across from us could see her. We had sex while...
Part I: The dare Dennis an IT professional met his friend Tim at the hotel where the convention was to take place. "Hey Tim how are you?" "Pretty good. How was your trip?" Dennis replied, "It was interesting, I took a train just for the experience. I saw a lot of countryside and was able to prepare more for the convention. The trip was affordable. Hey why...