Around 10 years ago, when we were both in our early thirties my wife and I had a relationship with another couple. It started at a party we were throwing; I’d bumped into an old college friend I’d not seen for years a few weeks prior and I’d invited her along. As I’d returned to college as a mature student she and her boyfriend were 5 or 6 years younger than us and I’d always had the hots for her.
We all got drunk, I told her my wife wanted to fuck her and the four
You’d never know it if you were to meet her or see her on the street. But the truth of the matter is, my wife has a cum fetish. I guess everyone has perhaps some sort of fetish. Some are pretty kinky, some are pretty tame, borderline fetish even. But this one…well, I’d have to say it ranks on the higher end of kinky fetishes.
And it isn’t just the fact Denise loves cum, a lot of women do. But she loves wearing it…in public preferably, and as fresh as possible.
I
I knocked on the door with my wife, Linda, by my side. The door opened but was held tight by a chain as light peeked out from inside. “Chocolate banana,” I said. The door closed and was soon re-opened without the lock. We entered hand in hand. The door was shut behind us and quickly locked. A short man stood there looking us over.
“Welcome,” he said in a low voice. “The club is meeting downstairs. Please leave your clothes in the living room before proceeding
While driving to Jonni’s place, Ross reflected back to the days when he first met her. It was a time when parties were happening with great regularity and every party brought new faces. But Jonni, like Ross, had been two of the regulars at those parties.
The two of them had never really spent much time talking. They had danced once or twice. But Ross remembered a strikingly attractive girl, close to six feet tall, long legs and dark flowing hair. She was indeed one of the
My wife Sally and I have been married now for twenty two years and I am still discovering new things about her. The true story that I am about to tell you is how my dear Sally first brought Lynda into our lives and what happened the first time that she visited our house. If you find lesbian sex and cream pies offensive then please do not waste your time by reading on.
We live in a medium sized village somewhere in the south of England. I am manager of the local bank, and for the last ten years
Things were going well between them, but Kate still felt something was missing. She partly knew what it was; a desire to ensure they kept things even more interesting by continuing to think of ways to make it continuously exciting for her. The answers flitted through her mind and she resolved to act on some of them, for the sake of their relationship!
They met in town and although she smiled and was polite, he could tell she was a little distant. They drove back to her house and once inside, he
“You say you just want to play eh, no strings attached? You’re my kind of woman.” I smiled as I slipped my hand under her swimsuit, feeling the humidity emanating from her damp nether region.
“I feel the same way, sex doesn’t always have to come with a commitment. What do ya say we have ourselves some fun?” I suggested.
“I say we’re already having it stud.” came her reply as she devoured my mouth, attacking it with her slithering tongue.
She still had her key, but after living away from home for two years, Lisa felt weird about barging in. The house looked smaller than she remembered, and shabbier. Not that her apartment was any suite at the Four Seasons.
The place hadn’t changed; she had. If she needed more proof of it, she got it when she knocked and Mom opened the door.
Mom’s welcome died on her lips as her eyes widened. She scanned Lisa from the top of her cropped, spiked, and scarlet-dyed hair to the toes of
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