It was with a slight feeling of trepidation that I followed Michelle upstairs. The combination of her full and shapely buttocks and the sweetly acrid smell of her pussy helped to ameliorate my apprehensions. But I did feel as though I was out of my depth, bookended as I was by two elite sexual beings who were no strangers to multiple partners. They were sexu...
Chapter Four The Next Valentine's Day "I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille," said Monica haughtily leaning against the balustrade looking nothing like Gloria Swanson for whom she supposedly emulated. For one she was too tall and lithe, not the petite silent movie star. Secondly she was way too young. And, perhaps most importantly, she dressed in a sheer...
I went back to my apartment to change. Hiro, my roommate from Tokyo, greeted me with a husky "Hi," followed by standing there awkwardly in his hunched posture, staring at me with eyes like black marbles, wearing that half-smile of his. I didn't like how he would nod nervously at everything in a conversation, so I tried to keep it brief with him. He was sup...
NOTE - This is another collaborative effort from Heather and I. This was the first story we wrote together and it was written shortly before our 30th anniversary. I wrote my memories first then had the idea to share it with Heather. When she started reading, her memories kicked in. When she started telling me her memories, I told her to add them into the s...
Now mid November, Chloe and Alex have been more than just neighborly acquaintances for a couple of months. She indulged his desires of a sexual playmate, while he satisfied her needs of an attentive and utterly desirable lover. They began to leave each other's doors open when they were home and took turns daily to wander over to say hello. Both feeling comf...
A Word to the Wise... An oral history. A cautionary tale shared around a village campfire late at night. As rendered by a white-haired old man in the midst of young, black-haired warriors who listen respectfully, even if not convinced of the veracity of the story... Why we don't go over to that island. Anywhere except to THAT island... What we saw, when o...
"This thing called love…I just can't handle it…this thing… It was a hot Sunday morning in New York City, and a young girl named Charlize Theron was singing along with Queen's "Crazy Thing Called Love" coming from KSSFM. She was Hoover-ing the floor of her apartment and jigging her body to the beat of the music. The full length mirror in her room reflected...
Pt. IV: Reunion Carol and I had simultaneously lost our virginity three weeks before, and we had re-discovered the missionary position three separate times. I had also masturbated her to orgasm a couple of times, something she admitted she had never done for herself. As soon as I got off work the next day I called her, and got some really bad news. Joan an...
Aileen had always been an adventurous girl, even with her religious upbringing. Her parents had encouraged her to participate in extra curricular activities, such as girl scouts, sports, and even the international student exchange program. And it was in Spain that she'd met Tadeo. The handsome college boy had been so taken with the lovely American redhead; h...
I dashed for the phone, hoping to answer it before the voicemail picked up. "Hello," I said, breathing hard. "Ken, it's Sam Clemens." No, not that Sam Clemens. Sam is Samantha Clemens. She and her husband Dave live about two miles from me on Huckleberry Hill Road. We have the only houses for miles, so we've become pretty good neighbors. Dave is a realtor...