Fetish

The sex between Devin and me, which began on our third date (a month ago now), has been world-incinerating in its hotness. In addition, call it the effect of the honeymoon phase if you want, but I love the guy with every shred of my soul-his gentle gray eyes, his teeth slightly crooked on the upper right, his large but graceful hands, his messy dark hair, his subtle sense of humor, his passion for the same art and music I like, his trace of an Irish accent. (He and his parents moved to the U.S.

The illumination from the streetlights was more than enough to see by, even after the intense electric glare of the subway station. But the addition of the subtle light of the full moon added a certain something to the night that Alex Johnston had always thought special, almost ethereal in nature.

Even now she marvelled a little at the way in which the moonlight seemed to erode the clean and ever so modern edges of the nondescript Yokohama street, eating away a part of the very real and

I yawned. I was bored and too hot. The lecture I was in was dull and I hoped it would end soon. I felt so sleepy and I was itching to get out. I sat there restlessly staring at the screen as the lecturer droned on listlessly. My feet sweaty in my converse, as I flexed them around inside my shoes.

I didn’t notice exactly when the lecture finished by the second I saw people stand up I left the building as quickly as I could.

Once outside I welcomed the cool breeze that made my black hair

Chapter 1

Over Christmas and New Years, our neighbors took a holiday in the warmer climes, I certainly can’t blame them; here in Wisconsin, it’s cold.

Their son, Rick, who’d just gone off to college, was not expected to be around with any consistency so they asked me if I would water plants and bring in the mail and such which I was happy to do.

They had always been good neighbors which, these days, is quite a happy circumstance.

So, I was generally taking care of things and

I heard my sister’s boyfriend’s car pull up into the driveway. I was in the house alone watching some DVDs while my sister was gone. Our parents happen to be away for the weekend on their second honeymoon. I couldn’t focus on the movie because I was worried about my sister. Ten minutes went by and she still hadn’t entered the house. I got kind of curious as to why she didn’t come in yet since I didn’t hear the car pull out of the driveway. To satisfy my

Paul had a little trouble finding Kaylee’s apartment building and he was almost twenty minutes late by the time he finally reached her door. It was bad enough being flustered by having taken a wrong turn while following the directions he had been given but, as he pressed the doorbell, he discovered he was distinctly nervous indeed.

Kaylee’s website specified several massage specialties but, although the text was suitably noncommittal and vague, it was clear that they were all of the

We’ve all seem them; an object of nostalgia and whimsy. It is a jewelry box, a place to keep secret and personal things, sitting on the vanity table of a particular kind of woman. There is the lingering hint of some perfume, a subtle reminder of the elegance of it’s owner. It is the color of ivory, picked out in silver or perhaps gold, the edges frilled or otherwise decorated to soften the lines.

On the top of this ivory colored box is the figure of a ballerina on a circular dais.

It’s a bit of a librarian look, the way I wear my hair at work. All coiled up on my head, and stuck through with several of those Japanese-looking hair spikes. Not a strand is out of place, and the hair is wound and wrapped tightly into a bun roughly the size of one of those Kaiser rolls the bun it makes is easily the size of one of those Kaiser rolls.

It’s about the color of fresh bread, too: either a very light brown (which is how I like to think of it), or the dirtiest blonde

I have never met a man or woman as confident as the young woman who took my anal virginity. She was not dominating, or arrogant, just very confident in herself and her judgments of people. How she knew a guy like me would give her what she wanted, and what I learned to want, I still do not know.

We met when I was doing a work survey of a local university to add some decorative pieces to the administration areas and the student union’s offices.

I had started up a specialty business to do

My reputation as a tongue slave was definitely on its way up. I was getting my good share of pussy and/or ass to serve on a weekly basis. Inspite of being any man’s dream, it had its downsides for sure. There is only so much pleasing a man can do before he starts wanting some attention of his own. There were few of my female friends who would blow me or let me fuck them every now and then.

This kind gesture would keep me at bay and let me be a proper tongue slave to the rest of my