I have this experience to blame (or thank) for all the many years of sexual deviance that followed. But first, a little bit of background.
Like a lot of kids, the moment I turned eighteen, I left home. Only I didn’t have college to go to, but a job designing web pages 1,500 miles from where I grew up in Texas. So I packed up and headed to Maryland, where I had already arranged to rent a cheap one bedroom apartment and start my new life.
My mother and her family were not the best to grow
I can be rather lazy at times, especially when I’m doing a routine job I’ve done lots of times. The current job was making out the Department Manager’s monthly report. I just had to cut and paste sections out of the previous monthly report and the various divisional reports and that was it. I whipped through it and posted it off to the DM with time to spare. Once I had his formal approval I’d just send out copies to everyone concerned in time for the big monthly meetings
“What Have You Done, Miss Robinson?”
Dolly’s story continues.
*
Ever since that afternoon when Dolly was molested by three other Project girls with whom she and her closest and dearest friend Nitasha had run-ins ever since junior and senior high school days and who was forced to watch Claudette, Neesha, and Wanda have their way with her, their going down on
Five o’clock was here and none too soon. This particular Tuesday had been a madhouse at work. Working at my computer terminal, answering the phone and talking to colleagues, often all at the same time, had taken its toll. My back and shoulders ached, and, to make matters worse, I’d overdone it at the gym during lunch hour on Monday. In a word, I was sore.
The only good thing was that now it was time for my monthly massage therapy appointment. My spirits rose as I drove toward the
Hi. This is my story. My name is Suzanne and I’m 37 years old. I live in Manchester in northern England. My first husband was a steady man but unexciting and once I left him for a fling with a more exciting man. But it didn’t last and I went back to the marriage. Our marriage was our parents’ idea and we were married at 20. He just wasn’t an imaginative lover and not suggestive. Then he died after an accident at his work, so I was widowed in 2002 at the age of 28. I met
Chapter 1 – Susan’s typical life
In a small town in a typical suburb, Susan was busily getting her family ready. She was just finishing sizzling up the bacon for the morning breakfast as her two children, Joseph and Michelle, were just sitting down for their food. Her husband, Brian, ran by her grabbed some bacon and ran out the door. “Late as usual” she thought to herself.
“Not even enough time to kiss me goodbye.” Susan handed each of her children a plate of
Gossip and a strap-on
Willy listened to the two women who were chatting while putting on their make-up in front of the mirror of the ladies change room, while she sat in the toilet stall.
“So what do you think of the new girl,” one asked the other.
“I sneaked a read of her file when she transferred in from New York, she seems to be a good cop,” was the reply.
“So what’s the juice then, tell me all?” the first woman asked.
“She’s divorced, no
“And what about you, Ma’am, how do you like to be fucked?”
It’s not a question you can ask every day, but….
They call it an expo, but really it’s a junket – an unhealthy gathering of strong personalities swapping business cards, trading success stories and basically trying to out-pitch each other.
If you were one with a wandering eye and a moral compass with a tendency to wander from true north, such events are the perfect opportunity to get up to
To my utter surprise and delight, Frank called next day and suggested that we go for a hike or ride. I had other plans but quickly cancelled, meeting Frank behind the base movie house and riding our bikes into a remote area of the base where there was once a hunting and skeet-shooting club now defunct for lack of funding.
It was a spot where we occasionally took girls, or partied. We parked our bikes beside the trailer and, since the door was locked, we pulled a sawhorse (that
I’m on my knees, staring up at a beautifully round, fleshy, tanned ass. It’s spherical shape so perfect, and because the woman who belonged to it was bending slightly forward and bending at the knees as if she’s about to sit down directly onto my open mouth I was infatuated and driven to fanatical heights thinking about it, looking at it, admiring it…it belongs to my mistress after all.
She tanned at the gym and her workouts were clearly evident but because her as is so
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