My normally demure wife, influenced by a moderate amount of alcohol, unexpectedly began to respond, in a flirtatious manner, to the attention afforded to her by the idiot husband of her best friend. I will not tolerate slutty behaviour (outside of the bedroom) this she knows...she will be held accountable and a suitable restoration (of my determination) wi...
It has always been hard to get my daughter to wear certain things; shoes and socks chief among them. She will also complain if her pants are too tight or about tags in shirts. But until recently I thought that she was just making a mountain out of a mole hill as my grandmother would have said. Then I learned about a neurological problem called Sensory Proces...
It might be an unpopular position that there are at least twenty places a man can fuck a women, with his cock stiff and erect and ready to bust. It may be even less popular that a woman can enjoy any one of those ways equally to a man. Few girls actually derive pleasure from having their earhole fucked, a sticky head jamming up against the cartilage, deposit...
Thursday, clear Beloved V I've never written the word beloved before. One more thing that you have called forth from within me. Swimming is my new pleasure. Not as good as you but what is. I use my mask and snorkel, so I can see beneath the surface and not worry about breathing. The water supports and encompasses me. It enters all my openings, but so com...
Paula289. "Hiya, Rouge." Rouge545. "Hugggs, Paula, how's things?" Satyr659. "Hello, Rouge, welcome back." Concerta723. "Hey Rouge, kisses Satyr, huggs Paula, hello room." Paula289. "Good thanks, Rouge." Lethargicrhythms931. "Hello, Concerta, come sit on my lap, ." Concerta723. "Hahahaha, no thanks Rhythms, you're wearing the lips icon today. You're up...
It was late afternoon, the shadows of the foliage just beginning to elongate. I had been dealing with a headache all day, so decided a stroll through the backyard garden would ease some of my stress. I focused my attention on a butterfly that had fluttered into my peripheral. Fascinated by its wonky carriage, I inched closer to realize a leg was missing. I f...
The characters in the story are over 18 years old. *** Lying on the back of the bed, hands resting on the head, eyes staring at the ceiling, the sound of a car running, the sound of people talking loudly through the window in the room. Few new furniture. Being alone in The big city is so lonely and so terrifying. My name is Jack, age 24 years, 178 cm tall...
Dear Stan, I would say this is the hardest letter I've ever had to write, but I don't think it's going to be all that hard. Even though we haven't been married long, everyone in this apartment complex knows I'm your wife, even people I've never met. And a surprising number of them know your dirty little secret. At least, they do now. I'd suspected for a fe...
"I'm thinking of buying that nightgown, Thomas." Thomas looked in the catalogue, over Asha's shoulder, at the picture of the model lounging on a chaise, clad in a satin gown with a slit high enough to expose an almost indecent swath of creamy thigh. The blond woman was thin and by the look of her folded-up legs, he could tell she was tall, too. Maybe even t...
This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Music Box Dancer are: Return To Apple Grove, Media Matters, Swamp Frogs. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains gr...