She was bound before him in the most alluringly submissive position, a remarkably stunning vision as she lay on her back, her arms stretched high and held firmly captive by cold, metal manacles that were attached to the headboard while her long legs were spread to an almost painfully wide degree…shackles connected to a bar that hung low from the ceiling lifted her firm bottom several inches off the bed, leaving her most intimate areas exposed to his heated scrutiny as he loomed above her,
“Let’s head over to West 4th for a pickup game, whadda ya say?” It was a hot summer New York night, the kind where it doesn’t dip below 80 degrees and anyone and everyone is out and about, looking for something to do. The idea sounded like a great one to Ernesto; his friends, however, weren’t as enthusiastic.
“Whadda ya fucking crazy? It’s fucking hot as fuck. What the fuck do I want to fucking go all the way to fucking Manhattan for a fucking game of
Even though they got along, and both were awesome fucks, Suzy and Nicky started to get competitive. They both wanted to be a sleazier, nastier, more degraded little bitch than the other one. Today was Nicky’s turn to up the stakes.
I’d agreed to met up with her at the mall where she worked. I’d assumed that she’d picked this because she was working that day, but I was wrong. She was wearing a long, black coat and high heels. Even though it was summer. I hugged her and
“Well, here we are.”
My husband Michael holds open the glass door for me to enter the place. The Relaxation Station; a spa in a shopping center. I sigh inwardly; a tacky name, but as this visit is on him I can’t complain too much…
We approach the reception desk, surrounded by the scent of patchouli and the sound of nondescript New Age music and within a setting of comfortable-looking if anonymous plush chairs and sofas. The young man behind the counter is handsome
It was Rick’s birthday, but not just any birthday, as he turned 60 today. He was really feeling depressed about it, even though he could still pass for mid- to- late 40’s. He stood at exactly 6 ft.,and weighed in at 180. His build was muscular with a dark hairy chest. He kept in shape by going to the gym often and lifting weights.
His hair was brown, worn just where it would hang over a shirt collar. Even at his age, no gray was visible. He had the deepest blue eyes Judy had ever
He doesn’t need to blindfold me.
The room is dark as pitch, even with my eyes wide open, staring so hard that I can feel my pupils dilated fully, making my ears ring, all I see is dark in dark.
The high backed wooden chair I’m tied to is the only solid thing my senses can grab hold of, the harshness of the rope that binds my hands tightly behind my back and my feet to the chair legs.
Another around my waist stops me from moving my hips more than slightly forwards.
I jump slightly as
My Name is Alison, I have lived in California for over five years, and I won’t lie to you. I do have plenty of money. You see I was married briefly before my husband left me for another woman, during my divorce, I got half of his estate which was, well quite a lot of money, with this money I bought a new house, secluded and out of the way, surrounded by a large rear garden with a huge swimming pool and hot tub. Around six months ago my twin sister Mia split with her fiancé of three years,
Dan Taylor stepped out of his truck into the warm sunshine of another glorious southern California morning. As he took his road bicycle out of the back and prepared it for the ride–checking tire pressure and loading his equipment– a large SUV pulled up behind him. He glanced up to see a pretty young woman get out and go around the back to get her own bike.
“I’ve never seen her before,” Dan thought to himself. That was not unusual. The club was always accumulating
Billie was tiny, less than 5′ tall, maybe 4’10” , weighed maybe 100 lbs., and cute as she could be. She was wearing a short-skirt skating outfit like ice skaters wear, but it was a roller-rink. Jay, John and I had been watching her and her boyfriend from High School (they’d enrolled at the Baptist College in town together) whirl around the floor, her like the little acrobat she was, him stumbling along with her. He was almost as clumsy as she was adept.
I’d checked
My favorite teacher was my math teacher, Mrs. Gibson. She was in her late thirties, a wife and a mom, but man, was she sexy! She had long full blonde hair, a pretty face, was average in height, and had big tits. Like most of the teachers she dressed casual more than she dressed up, but whatever she wore, it was hard to hide her hot body. I wasn’t much of a math student, and since I had math my last class of the day, I spent most of the period staring at Mrs. Gibson and having fantasies
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