As a high level executive, I work very long hours. I am a total professional, conservative, hardworking, prim and proper. My entire clothing wardrobe is tailored, expensive and high quality. My entire life is careful and deliberate, including my private life. My social circle is chosen carefully to network both the business and myself. I am always in control — of myself and of the situation.
The fantasy always involved being sexually out of control — to be the plaything rather than
Joe rushed into my office and asked, “Simon, have you heard the bad news?”
“What bad news is that Joe?” I asked with a quite audible sigh.
“The new boss starting next week, Chris Smale?”
“Yes I know that Joe, Chris Smale, the mystery man, what about him?”
“It’s Christine Smale not Christopher, our new boss is a female.” Joe said with a look of disgust on his face.
I laughed at my worried colleague, “As long as she is better
NakdSalr’s “Mom Takes a Ride” (1 & 2), and byRetired04’s “Sitting On My Son’s Lap”, are both slightly absurd, fun and erotic situations, with a Mom going for an extended ride sitting on her son’s lap, with others in the car. IMHO “Mom Takes a Ride” sets a high bar for this kind of story, being a quick easy read, and the car scene ridiculously erotic.
I thought I’d take a shot at a similar story, from the Son’s point of
I was 20 years old and had been going out with my girlfriend for about 9 months. Everyone thought I was straight, and although I had never really acted on it, I had often had gay thoughts and wanked over other men. So when my girlfriend told me that she wanted to fuck my arse with a strap on, I was interested.
I was at university at the time but was home for the holidays. I only come home during the holidays, so at first both me and my girlfriend were super horny for each other. We’d have
As might be expected, dinner that evening at the DeVries household was somewhat awkward. Christopher picked hesitantly at his pasta, not trusting his stomach. He just couldn’t settle down. His heart would palpitate for twenty minutes at a stretch, and just as he’d start to relax he’d think of the delights he might earn in the next few months, and the whole process began again. He was getting exhausted just sitting.
“So mom, I’ve been thinking.”
“Hm.
“Oh c’mon Tracey – Tom’s a professional, or at least he could have been. He was well on his way to being a Certified Physical Therapist/Sports Trainer until I got a hold of him. That’s how we met. He’s very good with legs and hips. Besides George doesn’t mind – do you?” Kim chided her friends husband.
Tracey looked at her husband who tentatively nodded his head. “OK – Tom can do it. It’s been bugging me for weeks and
I’m out running alone, along the river road. It’s a beautiful warm sunny day out, and I’m feeling great. Wearing a T-shirt and a pair of tight black spandex shorts. I stop to stretch at an overlook, and feel the sweat bead up and run down my tight leg. If only there was someone else there who appreciated the sight.
“Having a good workout?” asks a masculine voice behind me.
“Uh, yeah.” I stand up and turn around. The man is leaning against the overlook
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
Rob Barton arrived home from work to find a letter stuffed beneath his door. After reading what was in it, he was in a mild state of disbelief. The thirty eight year old ‘Resident Manager’ of the small, two building apartment complex was thirty days away from losing his two favorite tenants. The prospect of which had left him feeling more than a little depressed. He went to his filing cabinet and pulled out the packet of forms that he would have to present to the pair of them.
Rob
I’m in my late fifties. Pretty good-looking, I’m told and still in pretty good shape, thank you very much. I live in Bridgehampton, New York, right in the center of the ‘Fabulous Hamptons’ resort area. I live here year ’round and unlike the eclectic billionaires that comprise my neighborhood, I don’t go to the fancy parties and fundraisers, horse shows or designer shops. Don’t get me wrong, I love the style and artistic nature of the place, bumping into