“Come on, Jennifer, give me some,” was the standard plea from my husband Duke.
Not that I minded making love with him, heck, we’d been together 8 years and had made love countless times in a variety of places. But this was Tiffany’s wedding day and we were late for the ceremony. I was dressed in my perfect outfit, with perfect hair and perfect make up. I looked good.
Duke had played golf in the morning, had a couple beers with the guys, and arrived home late. Only stern
Shay’s college roommate had moved out for the summer to study abroad. This left Shay with an empty room and not enough rent money. She decided to put an ad in the university newspaper in hopes of finding a girl to live with for three months. Sure enough, not long after, Kate moved in.
Kate was a shy girl, with a bookish look to her. She had shoulder length blonde hair and big brown eyes hidden by big brown glasses. She didn’t show off her body very much, and instead chose to wear
“I should call the cops and charge you with rape,” Kristi said.
“I’m not sure it’s rape when you beg me to fuck you,” Ryan replied.
“Temporary insanity.”
Ryan laughed sarcastically. “Insane with lust.”
Mother and son were sitting in Ryan’s college apartment, less than twenty four hours since the nineteen year old student fucked his thirty nine year old mother on the lawn of a nearby house.
It was their first effort at
As Pamela showered she couldn’t believe it was her wedding day today. She had known John for two years now and although she had strong feelings for him, the sex was lacking. John just wasn’t…equipped. He had a six inch cock, but compared to some of the men she had fucked back in her college days he just didn’t satisfy her. She longed for a big strong man to ravage her cunt and fill her with cum. She glanced down and realized that she had been softly stroking her pussy
When I emerged from the bathroom, my best friend was on his back in bed, naked except for his underwear, and as I looked at him, arms and legs akimbo and with his eyes closed, I started to get emotional, knowing this would likely be the last time we would ever do what we were about to do.
How many times had we been like this over the years? Dozens and dozens of times over the years, but not nearly often enough to suit me. I remember the first time like it was yesterday…
***
It began with
I was nineteen (about three years ago) when I had my first real life experience testing my foot fetish. I had been aware of my fetish since I was in middle school, always looking under the table at girl’s feet. The older I got the stronger the fetish became. I had a couple girlfriends in high school but had never had the courage to tell them about my fetish.
At the point of this story I was a sophomore in college, about halfway through the year and you could say I was completely obsessed
Annabella was just arriving back to school after her winter break. She’d been home visiting family in Arizona. She loved her family, and it had been nice seeing everyone together. Moving away for college had been a very difficult transition for her. Bella, as her friends called her, was a good girl — honest, caring and considerate. Now that she was on her own, she found it unnerving taking control of her own life.
She had always done as she was told as a child, and she felt better
I was at fundraiser at my new husband’s workplace. Everyone who was anyone in our small town was there, vying to impress each other with much preening of plumage as the evening wore on. As usual, my husband John had gathered what few young people were in attendance like a pied piper and escaped outside into the warm summer night on the porch, leaving the stilted world of moneyed philanthropists inside. I had noted his exit and attempted to follow, but was intercepted in the hall by a
It was during my first summer holiday since I’d gone to university when it happened. I had gone into town one Saturday afternoon to get some CDs, when I saw walking down the street towards me my French teacher from school. Generally I didn’t really like meeting my old teachers, it was always a bit odd being treated normally by people who had been authority figures for me only a short time ago, and even if Mrs Woodcock (she was French, but had married an English guy)
was far more
The snow storm was getting worse. It was about ten miles to the next town and I began to wonder if I would make it. The Ford F250 I am driving is four wheel drive, but even the big truck was having a hard time staying on the road.