JUST A PLAIN FUCKING STORY

We were only friends. That’s what she said many years ago, “If you have any hope that we’re ever going to be more than just friends, then we can’t even be friends.” We had been friends ever since. We had just returned to her apartment after spending a day together. We had gone to Ikea

Mystery Sexy-Lady (MF)

He had not known his lover long, but he did know that she was a very private and careful woman. He did not know where she lived or even whether she was married. All he knew was she was incredibly sexual and sensuous. Oh, he had been with younger and more beautiful women in his

The Hard Lesson – by bree

Master had been gone almost a week, and I was feeling sorry for myself. I had not been allowed to go on the trip with Him because I was being punished for mouthing to Him earlier in the week. I had pouted and sulked alot the last few days, and then, in an act to

Japanese sex Housewife in 1946

In 1946 Choi Sun-Hee travelled by steamer from Osaka in Japan to Busan in Korea. She came back to a home that surprisingly had changed little in the seven years she had been absent. She came back to a husband whose appearance had changed much. This was fitting, suitable, appropriate, because she had changed as

Dawn of Time – mind control

“Please,” Kate whispered. She stood at the edge of the garden, Leigh standing beside her, her skin close and still desirable. Despite the climax, Kate still ached. She suspected that Leigh did, too. He slowly shook his head, a model of abject sadness. She believed him. He wanted to stay, even desperately, but it was

Monsters in my bed

“But…Why can’t we get it?” I whined, and not for the first time. “Everybody on the whole planet has internet now!” I was 18 years old. A teenage girl living in a broken home, in a broken trailer, in a town called Broken, Tennessee. My whole life was broken and Daddy wasn’t helping at all.

Sex and pot

“Hey, Mindy” Jim held out the joint, trying to talk without exhaling the smoke. “Oh, sorry.” Mindy turned and took it. She took a drag, then looked around the room, “which way is this going again?” “Counter-clockwise for the counter culture,” quipped Curt. “I dunno about that,” said Eric, who in contrast to the others

Sexual Angel at the Beach

In the that clutch of fervor, I live inside your throat, making love with some real or imaginary man or woman. It could be a casual eye, beast, ass or lips that I track. Object doesn’t matter. Only the raunch of sweat and piss remains. It is like the ocean-flood brushing against your body making

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