La Quinta -- in Spanish, it means "the fifth." To Matt, it meant a sad breakfast of pale bagels, bitter coffee, and tiny boxes of cereal he wouldn't look at twice in a grocery store. It meant light switches perpetually too far away from the bed and the cheapest shower curtains you'd ever see that weren't wrapped around a body on the lead story of the local n...
It started out as an ordinary evening. We were getting dressed for a night out. It was to be an elegant affair, and I was wearing a little black Calvin Klein slip dress. I was excited because I would finally have a chance to wear that lacy, black thong and garter belt I had picked up on a recent trip to Paris. I’d already decided to leave the matching push...
Suzie was a petite blonde with nicely formed tits and a nice round tight ass both of which she showed off wearing basically tight white blouses and slacks while underneath wearing lacy white bras and panties. I finally got a chance to hit on her one night after walking her home. Her old dad was fast asleep and snoring in his lazy chair while we watched a rac...
Chapter 1: The Players Enter We entered the room together and quietly closed and locked the door - it was very dark inside and we sat down to let our eyes get accustomed. Slowly we could just make out the outline of a large iron bed in the centre of the room with a mattress covered in what looked like a black silk sheet. Two large cushions lay on the bed....
(It was 1892 and I, David Shaw, then aged 19 joined 'Maynard and Son, Purveyors to Gentlewomen and the Aristocracy' on Upper Richmond Road, Putney. The job involved providing 'underskirt services' to single women. This was my third day with the firm.) *** Number Six, Paultons Square, Chelsea was an imposing four storey terraced Georgian house with impressi...
A story I wrote before I met my husband, I think I was just 18. A fantasy at the time, but almost a prophecy. After Silk read this story, he wanted to see if true life was as good as prose. Enjoy! I didn't even know his name at first. He was the first black man I had ever seen on stage, and for some reason I was drawn to him. I'm not racist, I pride myse...
Imagine yourself, for a moment, in the half-light of evening, standing in the cozy cabin of a luxury yacht...the warmth of little delectable morsels radiating from your soft belly, as I slowly lower your top from your shoulders, my firm hands massaging your arms and chest into relaxation, as the garments fall away.... The natural ease of my touch makes you...
It's the feel, I think, more than the appearance. Yes I'm interested in how they look, but I am more interested in the touch. Sure, the cut, the style, how much is covered and how much is revealed are important, but nowhere near as much as the sensations I receive. I get so aroused by simply holding the garment in my hands that sometimes it's nearly impossib...
Authors Note: The story you are about to read for the most part is true. I have lived in South Africa, Switzerland, Washington D.C. and Rome and now am living with my husband near Paris, France. The name I have assumed for my own sexual experiences is "Vixen," the alter ego of a model. Now I have written different stories about my life; my inner mind and p...
Winter blew a hard breeze into the foyer as she paused in the open doorway, appraising the men in the room, artfully flaunting her seductiveness. She turned slightly to shut the door, and an usher in a tux appeared at her side. “Let me get the door for you, ma’am, and may I take your coat?” She smiled, removed the wool cloak and handed it to him. This holida...